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r0xy-w0lf · 2 years

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Always A First

Summary: Sometimes when you looking for information, you end up learning something completely different. With your newfound knowledge, you decide to try it on Arthur one day.

Warnings: Oral smut

Word Count: 2,201

A/N: I remember learning that giving head/eating out wasn't very popular in the 1800's, at least in America, but was favored in other countries more. I don't see many stories where Arthur receives and he doesn't know what's going on. Cute little experimentation!

The sun slowly began to settle within the horizon, easing the sodden, swampy landscape of just a touch of heat. Below you, the remainder of the camp seemed quiet compared to the festivities of last night, drawing into almost the early morning hours celebrating the return of little Jack Marston. It only seemed as if you were asleep for mere moments before rising again to begin the morning chores.

While you weren’t much of a homebody, you elected to stay in camp today, helping the others clean up whilst Arthur left yet again. Most of your time was spent clearing empty amber bottles and scrubbing dishes. Once you’d finished that, you wandered back up to yours and Arthur’s shared bedroom.

While Shady Belle’s run-down appearance hardly made for a luxurious living space, you did your best in making it homely and comfortable. Folding freshly cleaned clothes, sweeping away dirt and dusting around the few knick-knacks, you finished the look by placing a small bouquet of flowers found nearby on the desk that held his map. It certainly looked somewhat more appealing than when you first arrived. Keeping it decently clean was something you took pride in, especially whenever Arthur proceeded in longer excursions.

It was around dusk when you caught wind of Arthur’s return, his deep voice carrying upward through the cracked windows as he greeted the others on the grounds. You smiled to yourself, excitement building in your chest.

Within minutes you detected the heavy footfall of his boots climbing the creaky steps, closer and closer across the worn floorboards until the door opened.

Aquatic eyes met yours, accompanied with a soft smile. “Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted, opening his arms to pull you into a tight embrace. His lips found yours in a brief kiss, and his gripped loosened as he leaned back to peer at you once again. “How’s your day been?”

“Just fine, I spent it cleaning,” you reply with a gesture around the room.

Arthur looked around for the first time, pausing at the flowers on the table. His smile widened a bit. “I like what you’ve done.”

“Thank you, so what did you do?”

“Ah, nothin’ out of the ordinary,” he released you to pull the satchel off from his torso, placing it on wrought iron head post of the bed, his hat and gun belt shortly following. “Seein’ if there’s anything worthwhile out there.”

You could hear the exhaustion in his voice. See the stiffness in his movement. These past few weeks certainly had taken a number on him, even when he himself wouldn’t admit it. Between the constant move and threat of Pinkertons down everyone’s necks, and Jack’s kidnapping, Arthur was seemingly like a nonstop machine. You voiced your concerns, wishing he’d at least take a day for himself, but like a stubborn workhorse, would always refuse.

And that’s why you’d come up with this little idea of yours.

The sound of your own name pulled your from your thoughts, and you focused on him again. He was facing you, an expectant look on his face.

“Huh?”

He chuckled lightly. “Looks like you got your head in the clouds.”

You half-smiled and said, “Kinda,” you step forward, placing your hands against the soft fabric of his shirt. “Arthur, I want to try something.”

“Hm?”

Without clarifying, you lightly ball his shirt in your fists, stretching up on your toes to kiss him again. He complied easily, his nearly rigid frame softening with your touch. This time it was deeper, slower, more passionate. It didn’t take much longer for him to figure out the gist of what was on your mind.

His hands wandered to your lower back, pulling you flush with his body. Despite this he parted his lips just an inch from yours. “This ain’t new, you know that right?” he lightly quipped, a hint of huskiness already in his voice. “Ain’t gotta ask to try.”

You giggle, giving him a sly grin. “You don’t even know what I’m gonna do yet.”

“Not hard to guess, sweetheart,”

“Yeah?” you challenge, “I guarantee you won’t.”

He raised his eyebrows at you. Before he could even have a second to respond, you kiss him again, curling your fingers into his hair. He hummed into you, greedy hands toying at the hem of your skirt. Your hips pressed against his, providing the slightest friction until your efforts yielded a soft moan.

Before he made an effort to remove any of your clothing, you broke from his arms, taking a moment to observe him completely. His cheeks had a slight pinkish hue, eyes glazed over with lust, a strain on his jeans where his arousal began.

“Darlin’ –”

Reaching forward, you palm him through his pants, his words melting into a low groan. Your free hand made quick work of his suspenders, peeling them from his broad shoulders, effectively loosening the jeans before you unbuttoned them. You freed him of his confinements, your palm resting against the hot, velvety flesh of his length.

Arthur immediately reached for you, though you stopped him midway by grabbing his wrist. He stared in confusion.

“Let me take care of you,” you whisper to him. “Since you’re always carrying so much weight, it’s only fair I do something for you.”

His lips parted as if he were about to question further, but decided against it, his arm going limp in your grip and his eyes on you with curiosity. Smiling sweetly at him, you release his wrist and then push him back, guiding him until he sat on the bed. Only then did you kneel before him, your eyes never leaving his.

Pushing his knees open, you scoot forward, face close to his awaiting cock. A new and invigorating route for you, and what you could tell from his expression, to him as well.

“What’re you up to?” he quietly asked, curiosity plain on his face.

Your only answer was a wink. From what you heard, this maneuver was a favorite in Europe, sometimes even more than actual penetration. If there was truth from the harlots in Saint Denis, it would bring you nothing but joy to see Arthur melt from just your mouth.

Your lips surrounded the tip, tongue darting forward to explore the smooth surface. Arthur’s breath hitched. And inch by inch, you engulfed him, struggling somewhat from his width.

“Oh,” he sighed, his chest fluttering unevenly. “My God….”

Music to your ears.

You pressed your tongue against his velvet flesh, bobbing your head in a slow pace. His quiet moans soon filled the room, tangled with hushed praise of your name. His fingers snaked into your hair with a loose hold.

This encouraged you, quickening only slightly, taking more and more with each pass. You distinctly remembered someone mentioning to squeeze your thumb to dull the inevitable of your gag reflex coming to play, and that’s what you did.

You couldn’t count how many times you’ve taken him the proper way; from that very first night he slid into you, the way you winced as he stretched your inner walls, his sweet caresses and gentle words to help ease the discomfort into unforgettable pleasure. Having experience it in a different orifice was a completely different playing field.

What else did they say to do?

Your hand cupped beneath, massaging his balls with reserve. He seemed to like that; his groans deepened as his palm pressed lightly against your head.

“Shit… that feels so damn good,” he panted, his legs trembling on either side of you.

The corners of your lips turned upward into a smile, though from his end it would be impossible to see. As you grew more comfortable, you continued to go faster, further spurred by the faint throbbing of his cock against your tongue.

He swore again, pressure of his hand even heavier now, all but forcing you to take him to the hilt. He easily reached the back of your throat. Good Lord was it a strange sensation. Tears burned at the edge of your eyes as you kept yourself still, knowing one wrong move could have you gagging around him.

Arthur’s breaths were heavy, his gaze finding yours again. “Sweetheart,” he grunted, easing the pressure from your head. “Ain’t gonna last much longer.”

You heeded his warning. You wanted to prolong it, to allow him to truly enjoy himself instead of being quick. Stolen moments of intimacy were often far and few in between, and that last time either of you had pleasured one another was at least a month ago. You slowed yourself, releasing his balls to smooth your hands up and down his thighs, using your eyes to hopefully give him the message: Relax.

He seemed to take the hint, leaning back and taking a deep breath. You settled yourself to a medium pace; focusing on each ridge and prominent vein aligning his length. He kept his eyes on you, reflecting pure ecstasy within. His free hand found yours, clasping it while he groaned your name once again. You turned your hand to wind your fingers between his, absolutely enjoying every moment.

Just listening, seeing, feeling how aroused he was…settled a spark deep within you. A faint pulse radiated down below that you mentally pushed aside. It would be so easy to just get up and ride him, to finish the job and collapse upon each other for the night, but your own pleasure should be waysided for the time being.

You decided to engulf him whole again, proving easier than the first time. He growled out a breathless “fuck,” as his hips bucked up, pushing him even further down your throat. Holy shit.

“S-sorry,” he mumbled, realizing how far he’d gone. He reached to stroke your hair, but you only hummed to him, indicating you were fine. The sheepish look still remained on his face, a shy smile crossing his lips. “Uh…can I do that again? That felt real good.”

Hell, how could you say no to that? You hummed again to him in approval.

He smiled wider, stroking your hair once more before resting it against your head. His hips moved beneath you, sliding himself in and out of your mouth. He was gentle with you rather than the abrupt and forceful attempt earlier, which you appreciated.

Even though you were supposed to have the helm, Arthur using you like this only intensified your arousal. You squeezed your thighs together, ignoring the growing heat between them, though the pressure provided just the opposite. Breathing deeply through your nose, you brought your focus on the heated, pulsating extension of your lover.

His own breath was prominent, stuttering and disjointed. You could tell he was nearing his peak. But you wanted to reclaim your charge, holding onto the top of his thighs until he slowed to a stop. Eyes unblinking, you held his gaze evenly, bobbing your head for those final moments.

Arthur’s hand tangled within your locks. His lips parted, huffing out deep groans and swears. His hand knuckled against your crown, meeting your mouth with a sudden buck – strings of his spend painting the inside of your mouth. A satisfied sigh curled in the thick air.

He stopped. You stopped. Both held in a familiar, static moment of bliss and satisfaction. The taste on your tongue was surprisingly mild compared to your previously fantasy-driven assumption. You pulled away from him, popping your lips off the dripping tip with a small, audible pop. A single rivulet of the pearlescent fluid cascaded down his length, and your tongue darted forward to catch it, earning you a shiver.

And then you swallowed. A preferred method, as so they say.

Your own name was carried by a breathless whisper. He loosened the near-vice grip within your tresses. His chest heaved with a gulp of air. It seemed as if every bone in Arthur’s body dissolved into jelly, limp against the mattress. Slowly he sat upright, staring at you as if you were divine.

“Where… did you learn that?” he finally questioned, leaning in and reaching out to your face to wipe away a small bead of saliva hanging from the corner of your mouth.

Smiling, you rocked forward to kneel upright, your face closer to his. “Learned a thing or two from the girls in Saint Denis. I, uh…got distracted when we were trying to get information on Bronte,” you admitted.

A look of realization dawned upon Arthur’s face, then shifted to a half smirk. “So that’s what you were doin’ all that time?” he chuckled. “Well, guess I gotta thank those girls,” he trapped your face with one hand, pulling you into a deep kiss. Slowly he drew you into his lap, his arm wrapping snugly around your waist.

Finally his lips parted from yours, a telltale glint in his eyes reflecting brightly. “Now…” he murmured, quick fingers trailing along the curve of your hip, hooking his finger within the waistline of your skirt. “I ‘spose my lady needs a favor returned…”

A sweet smile stretched across your face. “They did teach me a little about that,” you giggled. “Perhaps you wanna learn too?”

Arthur smirked. “Can’t say no to you, princess.”

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