Spike's Birthday Surprise

"I'm so spent..."

Sore and sweaty, the fatigued Sailorboy Spike dragged his feet close behind his friend and mentor, Iggy Astro, several paces away and not a care in the world. The August heat didn't help, though even Spike—who felt very much near death—had to admit it was a beautiful evening at the GSA ranch. And not simply for persona reasons either.

A red flannel wrapped around Iggy's waist, and a cut off band T-shirt/crop top lined their sickening body. Hair in a rare ponytaile, Iggy walked with their arms wrapped casually around their neck.

"That's the third time you've mentioned it since we finished drills," Iggy sighed. "Honestly, Spike, you can take so much punishment. It's very sexy."

The compliment, as well as the whiff of B.O. Spike kept getting from his favorite heel and mentor's armpits, renewed his strength. Iggy had intentionally opted to forgo deodorant tonight. And it was headlock endurance night. Spike's neck stung but it had been worth it.

Iggy and Spike approached the little guest house around the back of the Tamberly boy's (and pet Maine Coon cat Zeus') farm house. Crickets chirped in the night air, adding a lovely, romantic ambiance to another wise balmy evening in the Texan Republic. The house with the green shutters was dead silent and dark.

"Did I mention it was my birthday?" Spike said casually.

"That would be the...hmmm...fourth time, yes." Iggy turned around and flicked Spike pointedly on the forehead, laughing at his pained expression. "Did you think I was going to go easy on you just because you're 23 now? Now, be a good boy and help me take these crates of El Amante merch back to the truck for tomorrow night's show."

I can barely lift a slice of pizza to my mouth, Spike inwardly lamented as they walked up the little steps to the screen door. But he dared not say anything in front of Iggy. One wrong word, and that sinister smile would cross his beautiful lips, followed by some corporal punishment...or lack thereof, if Spike was enjoying being bullied already. Iggy knew when to withhold too.

"So why does Victor get a whole damn house to himself," Spike asked as Iggy fiddled with their keys. Of course, Iggy had keys to their luchador boyfriend's sweet digs.

"Colt goes a long way back with Victor and Rosa's family," Iggy explained, fiddling with the keyring. "Ugh, which one, which one. Practice ring. Gym. Dungeon. Ah, here we go. Anyways, Victor was one of Colt's earliest students. Of course, he'd been training long before coming to the GSA. He actually does a lot around here! So, figures he got the guest house and I got a yucky dorm room!" Iggy stuck out his tongue. "I used to be a rock star, kitten. A genuine rock star!"

"At least you have a single," Spike groaned. "Not that I would trade rooming with Kengo for the world!" Which was the genuine truth. He had hoped to have spent his birthday night with his favorite bear and roommate, but Kengo apparently had plans. Come to think of it, so did a lot of Spike's fellow trainees, leaving him alone.

Not that he was too mad or sad about it. Birthdays were always sort of 'meh' affairs to Spike. Came with the territory when you grew up in an orphanage. Still, Spike had banked on at least a bit more revelry at the GSA, and had even considered going out to the Rainbow Saloon (where Victor/El Amante worked as a bouncer) for a drink on himself (and a bit of a birthday cruise) but now he was so dog tired that sleep was the best gift he could give himself now. 

Spike followed Iggy into the dark house. "I just want to take a shower and cuddle up with a bottle of rum. Wow, Victor's house smells so good! Like cinnamon. Hey, Iggy, can you hit the lights, it's so damn da--"

"SURPRISE!"

Lights, and the faces of several of Spike's fellow trainees, hit him up the side of the head like a steel chair. It took him a few seconds to realize what had just happened (as well as to not go into cardiac arrest)

Jaw retracted back into his face, Spike reeled back in instant shyness—he loved having the spotlight on him, but only when he knew it was coming. He felt himself reel over. "I'M GONNA THROW UP!"

"No, you're not!" Iggy said, stabilizing him and pushing him into the room full of smiling friends with solo cups.

It was whirlwind of emotion. Spike was in complete and utter shock! All of his friends, here, cramped into a semi studio space full of balloons and tasteful Southwestern décor. Stunned and smiling like an idiot, Spike did the rounds, embracing and thanking all who showed up. His eyes fell on a keg of beer propped against a cartable full of liquor, beer bottles, and boxes of pizza. At the back of the room, taking in the good vibes, Victor. He wore tight jeans and even tighter, lavender shirt that could barely restrain his pec cleavage. Spike briefly locked eyes with the masked man, who smiled warmly at him and raised his solo cup in salute. Spike blushed and turned to hug the luchador's spunky cousin, and Spike's best friend, Rosa. Big Kuma Kengo, dressed in a very formal (and well-fitting) suit, accompanied her. 

The girl in red gave him the double cheek kiss. "We had to wait in the dark so long!" She gently cuffed him on the shoulder.

"Thank you!" Spike said. "I think?" He politely took the beer she handed him.

"I am sorry for lying to you," Kengo said, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. "But I wanted to surprise you roommate Birthday hug!"

"Best birthday hug ever," Spike said, burying his face into Kengo's bulk. He'd finally mastered how to squeeze him without crushing his ribs. Progress. "Hey hey just watch you don't spill the beer!"

Rosa threw a sideways look at her buff cousin, now making small talk with his mentee and fellow luchador, Blue Dragon. "Viki wanted to do the thing where we shove your face in the cake when you blow the candles out." She shrugged. "Mexican tradition. I talked him out of it."

Spike nearly spat out his beer. "WHAT!? Don't get me wrong, I love burying my face in cake, but that seems like a waste of perfectly good pastry!"

"Ugh. You're so sweaty. And you smell."

Spike blinked, unsure if he'd really heard the familliar voice behind him. He turned around and looked over at the smug, handsome, redhead. "Cian? You...you came to my birthday party?"

He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer. "What else was I gonna do on a Friday night, paint my toenails? Besides, free beer and pizza?" He sighed. "Happy birthday, boyo. Hopefully this year I get to kick you ass."

"I'd be honored," Spike said. This was crazy nice! I'm seriously gonna cry if I don't start to drinking. "Is that New York style pizza!?"

"Well, the closest you can get to it anyway," Buck, wearing a tasteful, floral button up said. He didn't waste time pulling Spike into a tight embrace.

But it was the cheek kiss, held perhaps a second too long, that Spike really appreciate. In fact, he was speechless. Which was a feat, considering his infamous mile-a-minute mouth.

Why is my heart beating so fast?

"Happy Birthday, you goober," sly Buck, heir to the GSA said. "I got you a card. Dad signed it. He's busy, of course."

Spike looked down at the work of art in his hands. There he was in comic form, rendered in colored pencil, punching Vahni Rage in the face.

"DID YOU MAKE THIS?" Spike said, forcing his eyeballs from falling out of his skull. This was a work of art!

"Oh, that's not the only thing he made," Rosa said, coming up behind her 'will-they, or won't-they pseudo boyfriend. She handed Spike a small, flat box tied with a navy blue ribbon. "Well, I helped too."

"She sewed it," Buck added.

"Buck, you're gonna spoil it!"

Thankfully, Spike was too distracted by the shiny bow to hear them. Tongue hanging out of his mouth, the tiny titan ripped the ribbon off with ease and opened the box. A white sheet of tissue paper lay inside.

"Awww," Spike said. "I love paper!"

"It's...beneath the paper, Spike."

"Oh! Gotcha." Spike lifted the soft paper up. His eyes almost immediately welled with tears. "STAHP! You guys..."

It was a brief-cut pair of trunks and knee covers, both in royal, navy blue velvet. Rosa had stitched a white anchor, Spike's icon, over the crotch. The back, appropriately, was embroidered in fine lettering that read: Sailorboy.

Spike pulled his friends into a giant bearhug. "THIS IS THE GREATEST FUCKIN' GIFT!"

"Erp..." Buck groaned, struggling against the too-tight embrace. "Spike, you're really strong! I can't breathe!"

"Oops," Spike let them go. "Seriously though. This is amazing. Probably the best birthday I ever had."

Which was, by and large, very true. Spike spent the rest of the time co-mingling with his fellow spellbreakers, drinking beer, and wolfing down pepperoni pizza (it was no New York style, but it wasn't bad). More than seeing everyone turn out for him though, Spike was warmed to seeing his buds having a good time hanging out. With the world tournament coming up, the crew had been a bit on edge lately. It was nice to let off steam.

Feeling more confident, thanks, in part, due to the liquid courage, Spike snuck to the edge of the room, where Victor and Gio were drinking wine and regarding Victor's collection of potted cacti and succulents.

"Is Icy still back in Toronto?" Victor asked his large, hirsute friend.

"Si," Gio said, swirling the wine in the glass. "Probably beating up all the boys and bullying them."

"And then sleeping with them," Victor laughed. "And what about Deadboy?"

"Do not say his name so loud! He might hear us, come creeping out from the shadows, and make us drink beer from the shoe again!"

"Ah, Australians."

"Still, Viki, it would be nice to have the whole family back together again. I know Joseph was busy tonight too, but..."

"Hey studs," Spike interjected, unsure who his coaches were talking about. "Oh wow, Victor, I love your cacti!"

Spike was not, in fact, looking at the cacti. But somewhere else entirely...

Gio smiled proudly. "I help him with them." 

"Err...yeah." Embarrassed, Victor looked away. "I may have killed the first batch."

"Do you know how hard it is to kill a cactus?" Gio whispered in Spike's ear.

Victor cleared this throat, clapping his hands together for silence. "Ahem! Now it is time for the stripper!"

Spike nodded along. "It's...WHAT?"

"Yes." Victor said, tossing his hair back. "Me." he pointed to Iggy, standing dutifully by the record player, which had been playing rockabilly and motown for most of the night. "Musica!"

Rosa put her drink down next to Buck and pointed to the door. "I'm gonna go."

"I'm gonna stay!" Buck said, drooling as he took his seat on the couch. Rosa, sighing deeply, abandoned the boys to their fun.

Before Spike could speak, he found Gio forcing him down onto a folding chair. He blinked, in confusion, as a raunchy reggaeton bop blasted out from the player.

Victor sauntered over, gyrating his hips and turning around on the beat. He unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, and then tossed it to the side with the grace and poise of someone accustomed to taking off their clothes. He revealed his gorgeous, buff, ripped body to the other men in the room.

"Oh wow."

"I think I'm gay."

"I think I'm gayer."

Spike, a little embarrassed, but mostly excited, found his head being pushed into Victor's crotch, and then immediately picked up off the seat and dry-humped in the mid-air. Oh wow. He's good. He's REALLY good at this. 

Victor wove his love spell, but it wasn't even necessary. His movements were masculine and erotic. He tossed his hair like an unbridled stallion in heat, and teased Spike by pulling down the back of his jeans, slowly, revealing a cherry-red thong.

"He wore that for me last night," Iggy whispered coquettishly in Gio's ear.

Victor turned and presented his rippling back for Spike's pleasure...as well as his muscle ass, which he bounced and flexed, g-string completely eaten up between his cheeks.

Spike was already rock hard, but now he was duly impressed. And, perhaps, envious too. Not possible...my ass is the ass that is legendary. This ass is beyond mortal power! 

The ripped luchador (still masked, naturally) straddled Spike, careful not to crush him under his bulk, and rode him, grinding against him. Spike, bright red but loving it, caressed the wrestler's giant pecs and biceps. What I'd give for just one night...

Victor got a bit bolder with his tease, pulling Spike's face into the ample bulge of his thong--which already showed off a hint of Victor's dick cleavage. Even though Spike was fully aware all eyes in the room were on him, he wasn't shy about rubbing his face all over it.

"Wow. He's really going for it."

"Wasn't he raised by nuns?"

"Yeah, they did a bad job."

"It's Spike's party, what did you expect?"

Amused, Victor pulled back his generous birthday package and held up a finger. "Now, now," he said, teasing Spike by poking his nose. "Just a taste for now."

"Where do I put the dollars?" Spike said, mischievously. Only a cocky ex-pinup like Spike would dare try and seduce back a stripper. He parted his legs for Victor to see the outline of his hardon in his silk workout shorts. "Or would you like me to return the favor?"

For a moment, the hunky stripping luchador looked blindsided. But he resumed his normal cool. "This one is on the house," he said. "You are very, naughty, Spike. You may need to get punished later."

"Oh?" Spike asked, demurely. "Punish me? What kind of punishment.

The music finished, maybe sooner than Spike had hoped. To answer Spike's question, Victor looked down and grabbed his junk (though junk, perhaps, was too crude a word to describe the beauty that lay between his legs). He leaned forward and gave Spike a quick peck on the lips, before pushing him back and away.

Spike was speechless. "I...yes."

"That is the usual reaction," Victor said, with a sly wink. "Happy birthday, guapo." He put his jeans back on, much to the disappointment of almost everyone in the room. "I also got you a more tangible gift." He grabbed a pretty bottle of liquor on the shelf and handed it to Spike.

"I mean that was pretty fuckin' tangible. Yeah, it definitely looks like I tanged a little. Oh hey, tequila! My favorite!" He leered mischievously at his host. "Y'all wanna do shots?"

"Don't do it!" Sanjay alerted the others, who were all still reeling from Victor's sensual performance. "Spike can drink anybody under the table. And tequila? This will turn into an orgy at the drip of a hat."

"Hey," Iggy said, annoyed, "don't go ruining a good time."

And it was true—Victor's ambient love magick had worked too well. Whether they were fully aware of it or not, all the men in the room and suddenly coupled up into private conversations. Even Cian, still shy about his seldom explored sexuality, was making eyes at Buck. Strangely though, Buck kept throwing hungry looks at Spike, who was both oblivious and free-pouring tequila into his and Victor's red cups.

It had been almost a year now since Spike had been kicked out of the Navy, and he'd missed that sense of comradery. Now, he had it in abundance. He felt accepted. Loved. He was in awe of his peers, supporting them as much as they supported him. And so, in a rare glimpse of maturity (hey, 23!) Spike raised his solo cup to the crowd.

"All of these presents are amazing, guys. I..." he found himself choking. "Nah. I'm not gonna' cry. You are all so wonderful. I'm lucky to have you as my teammates! I feel the love." He threw back the tequila in one gulp. "I'm also drunk!"

Drinks were had, though truthfully not that much more. Guests began to pour out, giving Spike well wishes and tight hugs (and some kisses) before filing out the door. Iggy was the last one left, and one of the few to notice that Spike and Victor had gotten chummy around the card table, swapping stories.

"Viki," Iggy said, trying hard to seem responsible. He pointed to Spike. "Make sure he gets back to the dorms safe." He turned and opened the screen door, but not before looking coyly over his shoulder. "And...make sure he has a good birthday night."

He shut the door behind him. Spike hardly realized that it was just him and Victor left in the room.

Victor got up to pour Spike a glass of water. "You feeling good, chico?"

"Yes," Spike said, pouring himself and Victor one last shot. "Here's the last one. I want to remember tonight, not blackout!"

"Sounds like something a mature, twenty-three-year old would say." Victor smiled at Spike with his eyes, and held up the cup. "To two lonely boys with sad childhoods who turned out somewhat okay."

"Or at least, turned out hot as fuck." Spike tipped the cup of tequial to him "Salud." He tossed it back and sighed. "You know, it's nice to see you outside of training and all of that."

"Ah, I'm a busy man, Spike! I feel bad not taking the time to talk to you more."

"It's okay, man of mystery. You know...to be honest...I was super intimidated when I met you."

"Ha! Who wouldn't be." Victor stood up and flexed. Veins popped in both of his boulder biceps. "With muscles like these."

"They...are pretty nice." Spike gulped down his water, but there was an entirely different thirst he felt needed quenching now. He stood up and walked over to the kitchen sink. "Hey, I'm just gonna get another glass of water."

Spike used the moment to recollect himself. There was a tension in the air. He recognized it. He'd been here before. That moment when two people want something but are too afraid to act, even though they know the answer. Spike poured water into his glass and took another gulp.

"Did Iggy want you to haul those boxes of shirts back tonight?" Victor asked. He scooped a few glasses, stacking them with the expertise of someone who had been working at a bar for a solid period of time.

"Yeah, it's not problem." Spike put the glass down. He heard Victor come up behind him. He was glad the man couldn't see him grin. "I should get going soon anyway."

He turned around. Victor, looking at him, reached behind him and placed the glasses in the sink. His wide arms were now to either side of Spike, with the muscular, blond caught between.

"Do you want to leave?" Victor asked.

"No..." Spike said.

There is a magick in a first kiss between two people impossibly attracted to each other. No words need to be exchanged. It operates on an invisible language. In that moment, all Spike and Victor—who were both comically mismatched in height—had to do was look at each other, before their lips met, and met hard.

Moments passed. Victor held Spike firmly, gently, pulling him in close. His tongue prodded his mouth, but not invasively. His kiss was soft, but potent, empowered by his magick.

After what felt like a blissful eternity, Spike pulled away slowly, surprised at himself. Usually, his first time kissing a new guy was forceful or playful or slutty. This was different. It wasn't 'love' (not that Spike had known that before) but it was mature and different.

Spike and Victor looked at each other, unsure of what had just happened. 

"I...have wanted to do that for awhile," Spike said. 

"I know." Victor reached up and stroked the side of Spike's face with his finger tips, a soft and powerful caress. "Should we keep going or would you like me to walk you home? I know you've been drinking."

"Keep going," Spike said. He smiled, with confidence and surity, lost in Victor's dark eyes. The fact that he had never seen his face...it almost made it feel more pure somehow. "Seriously. I promise you Victor, this is the most sober decision I have EVER made."

"Thank Goddess," Victor said, his finger tip finding its ways into Spike's mouth.

Spike took it in and sucked it, long and deep, before slowly removing it. "Why?" he asked.

Victor laughed, but it didn't ruin the moment. "Uhhh...because you are hot?" He leaned in, powerfully and hungry and in complete control. "I love compact, muscular studs like you. Face of an angel. Body of a devil. Spike, the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I had have you one day."

They kissed again. Longer. Deeper. Spike didn't even care he had to stand up taller in order to reach the masked stud. His arms were strong around his waist. They picked Spike off the ground, just as he had done during his strip tease, and held him in the air. Spike wrapped his thick legs around Victor and allowed himself to be carried over to the lounge in the back of the room, by his comfy looking bed with the satin sheets. He sat him down on the edge of the bed and then easily removed his pants again. Spike looked up, almost at eye level with his cock, but it was the man's entire pysique that took his breath away. Abs. Pectorals. Giant legs. Massive arms. He was a god on Earth; of course he couldn't reveal his face to mere mortals; Spike was already burning up admiring him.

"I just know you're handsome as hell behind that mask," Spike said, breathelessly. He kissed Victor's abs. Hard as diamond (and double for Spike's cock right now). "Can I touch your muscles?"

"Mi amor," Victor said, taking Spike's hands and guiding them up his ab muscles, "my body is your playground tonight."

"Fuck." Spike was trying very hard to to drool. He was tenting so hard in his workout shorts that he worried he might drill a hole through them. But worries quickly faded away. All he cared about was worshipping his master's muscles.

Victor sensed as much, and flexed his arm for him. Spike's hands followed his mouth and tongue. He fondled the masked fighter's mountainous bicep, inspecting every bulging vein, first with hands, then with tongue, capping it off with a series or worshipful kisses. 

Every new muscle offered a new delight. Spike pulled his head back and looked down at Victor's chest, so large and round that it was almost obscene. "These arms and pecs," Spike said, grabbing a handful, only for Victor to bounce his pec. "Ffffuck."

"Watch," Victor said, with a mix of mischeif and juvenile cocikness. He flexed his chest muscles in perfect isolation. His upper pecs contracting, and then making them bounce up and down with his middle pec muscles. It wasn't just hot, it was a damn feat of the human body.

Spike felt a trail of percum leak down his leg. His jockstrap was already soaked through.

He coulsn't control himself. Maybe it was the tequila. Maybe it was Victor's magick. Spike fell forwrd and wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in the crook of Victor's meaty neck, taking in a scent of fine cologne and natural man. "I love muscle guys," Spike moaned.

"You're a sweet kid," Victor said, kissing Spike on the cheek. And speaking of cheek, he cupped Spike's bubble butt. "With a fucking hot ass," he said, punctuating the statement with a slap to Spike's rock hard rear. "Damn! Iggy said he enjoyed fucking that. I can see why."

Normally, Spike would have been offended. Truthfully, he loved the idea that Iggy had told their partner how much enjoyed using him like a slut. "He tore it up," Spike said, biting his lip. He returned to worshipping Victor's chest, gleefully narrating the encounter, hoping it might stir up some animal jealously. "Fucking cored me out, made it gape, and made me watch in the mirror. They've got a great cock."

"One of the many reasons Iggy is mi amor," Victor said, looking at Spike hungrily suckle his nips. "And we love to share our toys. Do you want to be my toy Spike? Ah, you like the pecs don't you."

"I love everything about you," Spike said, eyes watering (and mouth too). If this was El Amante's spell, Spike never wanted him to lift it. Was it possible to get drunk off a person? "You're so hot. I know I talk a game, but..."

Victor laughed lightly, pressing his finger to Spike's lips, enjoying how he took it into his mouth. "You have a playful, slutty, sexuality. Like a college boy. I, on the other hand, am a gentleman of seduction. My sensuality is my power. You must learn to take it slow. To withold. To tease. I will teach you so many things." He leaned in and kissed Spike deeply, tonguing the inside of his mouth, before pulling back. "Would you like me to show you how it's done, my apprentice?"

There weren't enough languages to say 'yes'. Spike, choked by raw lust, just nodded submissively. He would let this man do terrible things to him. He honestly hoped he would.

But El Amante wasn't one of those 'alpha' types who drilled and jackhammered their submissive partners and called it a day. His method was relaxed. Sensual. Targeted. Like the Scorpion tattoo on his massive shoulder, his venom worked slow, building up. He was content to return Spike's slow caresses and rubs, looks of longing (his eyes were gorgeous, but it helped that was one of the few facial details Spike could see), interrupted only by briefs utterances of "Wow," when Victor touched a muscle he liked. 

"You have such a great body, Spike," Victor (kneeling now) said, kissing Spike's neck and abs. His hands finally moved to Spike's bulge. His shorts had a massive wet spot. In any other circumstance, Spike would have been embarrassed.

But with his head reared back in ecstasy, he didn't care. "Please. Touch me there."

"I intend to so much more, chico," Victor said, rubbing and fondling Spike's bulge. "Let me do the honors." He pulled off Spike's workout shorts, and admired Spike's jockstrap pouch, which was half hanging off his erect cock. "Blue jockstrap?"

Spike smiled down at his stud. "Gotta be on brand."

"Mmmm." Victor looked at Spike's bulge, fondling it and rubbing it with his thumb. He took his time with everything. Savored it. "Can I be a bit of a dog right now?" he asked, looking up at Spike. He leaned forward and took a whiff. "Mmm. Yes, that smells good. Just worked out, right?" 

Spike felt scandalized (though this wasn't his first rodeo). "Oh fuck..."

"I love mouthing it first. Teasing it." Victor put his lips on Spike, sucking on his pouch. "Tastes so good. But let's see if you are a worthy opponent to El Amante's glory."

The moment of revelation. Victor pulled down Spike's pouch, revealing seven and a half of inches of Sailorboy. Spike's cock was just a bit girthy, with a slight upwards hook, like a devil tail, belaying his impish nature. He'd though once, fleetingly, of getting it pierced (but was too afraid of needles).

In any case, Victor was a fan. Again, he uttered a low, throaty, "Wow." His way of sex was quiet and cool, with a slow-burn passion. Iggy had mentioned casually to Spike that Victor was a 'textbook Scorpio'. From what Spike gathered, it meant that not only would this man fuck him great, but would totally consume his senses while he did.

"Spike, you have a beautiful cock. Bigger than I expected." Victor was content to play with it, rub his knuckles against it, admire it.

Spike wasn't sure if he should take offense to that or no. "Hey, what's that supposed to....Ohhhhhh fffffuck."

He was cut off, of course, by Victor completely engulfing Spike's mouth with his cock. He didn't even lick or go slow. He took it all into his throat with masterful expertise, letting his big lips do the work. Spike liked getting head, so this wasn't anything new, but he could safely say he hadn't been sucked off this hard before. Whatever Victor was doing with his throat, his tongue, his movements, was pure magick.

My life might be in danger, Spike thought, eyes rolling in the back of his head as every never on his cock was activated. I'm fine with that. Twenty three? Dying from orgasm from a muscle stud? Fine way to go.

Victor pulled his lips away, a mercy. "You like that, chico?" he said slyly, caressing Spike's abs with one hand and circling his thumb around Spike's glans with the other. "You can hold onto my mask, if you want. As long as you don't try to pull it off."

"In the position I'm in?" Spike said. "I'm dumb but not that....ffffffuck."

He was cut off by Victor's head game. The man was an an artist. Eventually, he took his mouth off Spike's cock and started to milk it, tugging it closer to his chest.

Spike took the lead and moved his cock head up the valley of Victor's pectorals, nice and smooth. It felt amazing. He realized he could probably fuck his pecs if he wanted to. But he would settle for dragging his shaft and cock head up to their peaks, across his nipple. It was dirty and depraved, but he didn't care.

"Yeah," Victor said, enamoured with Spike's worship of his chest. "Slap that nice cock against those pecs for me."

Spike did as he was told, slamming his meat against Vic's chest as the muscular fighter bounced and flexed his pecs, adding to the sensation. "Ohhhh," Spike groaned, at a loss. He had reached a trance like state. He didn't care how depraved he was with his cock. Victor alternated between mouthing it and forcing Spike to worship his pecs with his cock head, admiring the cocktail of saliva and precum that dripped onto his meaty muscles.

"I'm not gonna last long," Spike moaned. This was beyond anything he'd felt before. A damn great birthday.

"I can make it feel really good with my power," Victor said, grinning, and in total control of his boy. "But you might faint."

Spike took a deep breath. I better not regret this. "Fuck, do it." He knew he was thinking with his cock, which was close to shooting anyway, but it didn't matter. 

"You probably will cum right away," Victor warned, as he pressed his finger tip to Spike's cockhead, injecting it with a wave of warmth.

"Don't care just—" he was cut off by the overwhelming sensation of something pushing its way into his prostate and base of his shaft at the same time, a feeling that was painful and uncomfortable for all of a second, before all of the serotonin inside Spike's brain released himself, and all of his genital muscles contracted at the same time.

It would have been embarrassing, if Spike was capable of any other thought. His voice cracked. "OH FUCK I'M GONNA CUM."

"Aim for my pecs," Victor said softly, "I want you to cover them."

Spike did as told, but it was a photo finish. "OH FUCK. OH I'M GONNA SHOOT SO HARD."

He wanted to scream, and had to bite down on his tongue to prevent himself from doing so. Whatever Victor had done to him was impossible to describe. It was like an orgasm from a different part of Spike's cock than he was used to. He shot out the fattest load of spunk he'd ever seen, at a high velocity and volume. He moaned and gasped, as he pumped a load of cream all over Victor's chest, watching it slide down smooth.

"Wow," Victor said, impressed. "That's incredible." Watching Spike try and not faint back down on the bed, contented Victor gathered Spike's cum in his finger and put it to his lips. He kissed Spike with it. "Taste yourself, boy."

Spike could have been told anything in that moment and he would have gladly done it. He was far gone. Eyes in the back of his head, all he could do was let free a string of giggles, in disbelief of what had happened.

But he wanted more.

"I need to keep going," Spike, already exhausted, said. He dropped to his knees, in front of Victor's tenting bulge in his red thong. He looked at it like an object of worship. There's no way I'm taking in this giant man's cock after all that pizza. Not a problem. I'll suck out his soul instead.

"It's my love magick, mi amor. It's addicting." Victor was patient and understanding. "I'll make sure you sober up by the--"

"Shut up and let me suck that cock!" Spike snarled, like an addict cut off from the source. He couldn't contain himself. Slut became aggressive slut, a tiger on the hunt for raw meat. Spike yanked Victor's thong off and pulled it down his legs. 

"HOLY SHIT," Spike said.

Victor, ready to receive Spike's mouth, looked down. "Everything okay, handsome?"

It was beyond okay. Spike looked upon Victor's glory. Sure, it had been hyped. He had tempered his expectations, even. But to look upon it now was like staring at a priceless work of art. Nine inches of length and an optimal amount of girth, straight and beautifully shaped, with a spherical and symmetrical head. It was, without a doubt, the sceptre of a king, beautiful in its composition, right down to the length of cum vein that ran across it. The Goddess herself must have shaped this cock, Spike thought, taking in Victor's equally large and finely shaped balls. He was shaved smooth, which was hardly a surprise. Spike placed a finger against the tip, where a bead of precum, formed like a white pearl.

Hungrily admiring his cock, Spike looked up submissively into his master's eyes. "Victor, this should be in the fuckin' Met." He couldn't control himself. He took all of Victor's length inside his mouth and made a silent vow to give him the best head of his life.

The feedback was promising. "Oh...fuck, Spike, your mouth." He leaned back in rapture, daring to thrust slowly into his new toy's mouth. He pushed a little, careful to make sure he didn't make Spike gag too much. "DAMN that's good head."

Spike might as well have been stranded in the desert for days. Victor's cock was an oasis. He couldn't help himself, forcing his mouth deeper and deeper. He tasted Victor's precum. It was sweet. Strange. It made him go harder. His thought were completely consumed. All he could think about was sucking this man off.

Victor knew what was happening, but it was hard to convey it between the waves of pleasure. "Just a heads up....my precum...it will numb you a little."

Spike looked up with innocent eyes and forced himself to pull off, but only long enough to say, with absolutely authority and desperation, "Good. I want you to fuck my throat."

Victor was right. Whatever was happening here had supressed Spike's gag reflex utterly (not that he was new to deep throating; he'd been in the Navy after all). He inhaled Victor's cock into the back of his throat.

"SPIKE..." Victor tossed back his hair, lost in the sensation. "Agh. I should let you know....if I cum in your mouth...Remember, I am a half Incubus. It might..."

Trailing a rope of saliva and precum, Spike pulled back, if only to breathe. "I don't care," he said sternly. "If I die, I die." It was like a spellbreaking match. Spike had every intention of utterly destroying his opponent. Victor's seed would be his.

Victor tried to brush it off, but he could feel himself creeping closer to the edge. "Oh...you might die a little." He'd made a monster. He knew he should have turned down his powers. Still, he had a duty of care. He had to warn Spike.

But it was too late. "Are you sure...NO, I'M SO SORRY, I'm gonna CUM."

Something warm and sweet, but with the effects of a fine wine, poured into Spike's throat. He didn't stop. He would suck down every drop. He would drain Victor completely. Nothing else mattered.

Moaning and gasping, Victor finally had to pushed Spike's face away so he could catch a breath. He heaved, coated in sweat, his hair matted against his chest. "Damn..." he sighed. "Goddess damn. That was amazing, chico." He looked down at his younger friend, eyes glossed over in a trance-like state. "You okay, boy?" He ruffled his head, playing with his hair. "You drank it all down. That...will probably cause some effects."

Victor was right. Spike stared off into space. It was like he'd just taken a hit of a potent drug. He was nearly catatonic with bless. "I....I...."

Between his legs, Spike grew raw and erect. A string of precum leaked down from his throbbing cock, right onto Victor's floor. 

Victor arched an eyebrow. "Ah. Hehe. You are love drunk. We'll have to fix that." Victor leaned over and pushed Spike onto the bed, onto his back. "You remember how I said you'd shoot hard? Well, now you've had the full dose."

Spike's soul was somewhere else, but he was aware of all that was around him. Victor, quite possibly the most muscular and beautiful man Spike had ever laid eyes on, slowly crawled on top of him, making sure to distribute his weight as not to crush his partner. Spike was overwhelmed with sweat. Victor's hair hung down into his face, brushing his cheeks as he went in for a series of slow, tender kisses.

More. Spike thought. I want more.

Victor caressed the side of Spike's face. "I'm not gonna fuck you," he whispered. "Not yet. You still need to adjust to what I can do." He lowered his head and bit Spike's neck softly, whispering, "But I am gonna make you scream."

Whatever was happening, Spike wanted to stay inside this state of mind forever. "Can't....speak..."

Victor began to brush his massive girth against Spike's cock, frotting him real slow. "If you want to stop, you can squeeze my hand." His movements were liquid, strong, sensual. "I'm just gonna ride my cock against yours. Feels good, doesn't it?"

That was putting it mildly. "Ah...ah...."

Victor increased in his thrusts, grinding his hips against Spike, dominating his cock with his own. A steady stream of precum leaked from both of them, lubricating them up. Victor increased the speed and momentum.

Spike was already in the throes of pleasure. This was something else. Every nerve was at attention, sending signals to his brain. His prostate and nuts were swollen with pleasure from both sides. He would give everything to Victor.

The master of love magick looked down into his moaning, writhing partner's distant stare and knew he was close. He tried not to let his amusement show, or make Spike feel embarrassed. Instead, he grabbed one of the silk pillows and held it to his face.

"You're gonna need to bite down on this."

Spike had just enough sense left in him to heed the command. The wave of pleasure was overwhelming. Like before, it was painful, almost like being stabbed in the g-spot and the nuts. Spike felt the orgasm come on slow and drawn out, as if something was pushing every ounce of cum out of him at once.

Oh Goddess, I'm gonna fucking die. Spike buried his face into the pillow and screamed. This was too much, ion a good way. "MMMMMMFFFFFFFF!!!!!!"

Thankfully, Spike didn't have to see what mess he made. A fountain of seminal fluid and cum shot out all over him and Victor in a steady stream, leaking onto the bed. If it wasn't so hot, it would almost be grotesque. Victor, afraid he'd just killed his friend, stopped and looked down.

The orgasm to end all orgasms stopped. Spike was distant. Gone. Endorphins played across his neurons. He tried not to faint, merely trembling and shaking in the aftermath instead.

"Happy Birthday, mi amor. Hahaha. If you pass out, it's alright."

But the Sailorboy was no bitch. And even though he didn't have ad rop of cum left in him, he would live another day. "I..." he choked on his words, trying to look up into Victor's dark eyes. "I'm...still shaking."

"Yes, I can see that." The hunky luchador kissed him on the cheek and then went up to fetch a towel. "Are you alright, beautiful?"

Spike got a good view of Victor's rock hard, muscle ass. Shit, and that was just from a bit of grinding! I can't even imagine getting my face or cock in all of that. It really would kill me!

"That...was the best orgasm I've ever had." Spike sighed, smiling, feeling as if he was glowing like a god. "A double shot."

Victor laughed softly, and handed Spike both a towel and a glass of water. "I can do this..."

"No, no, no," Spike insisted. Sex decorum 101. "Just...ah man, give me a second I can't move."

Feeling mischievous, Victor leaned in. "Now imagine if I had fucked you."

"Let's...build up to that," Spike said, legitimately terrified of this spellbreaker's power. So, love really is the strongest magick!

Spike did eventually find the stamina to wipe himself down (and there was a lot to wipe off). "I can't believe I came that much," he said, red faced. "How is that humanly possible?"

Victor laid back, lounging in his nudity, a god in repose. "I am good at what I do." He motioned for Spike to come to him.

Spike bit his lip. The man's touch alone sent his senses on fire. Good thing he probably wouldn't be able to cum again for some time now. Spike fell down and back into Victor's arms. The man held him close, kissing the back of his neck. It was intimate. Sweet. Spike didn't want him to let go.

"Speaking of which," Victor said, nibbling Spike's ear. "I might need you to come over and service this cock again sometime. That mouth and throat of yours is something else." He paused. "Stay the night with me. Please."

"As if I wouldn't," Spike said, assumingly. He craned his head back and gave Victor another kiss. "Thank you. This was a great birthday."

"Happy to hear it," Victor said. "Dream well. You're in my arms tonight."

But sleep had already taken Spike, satisfied beyond measure, nestled up against the muscular man's chest. Pure bliss. Happy birthday indeed.