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47 hopped off the rigid-hull inflatable boat into the shallow water of a small hidden bay on the least-accessible side of Ambrose Island. The beach evidently had not been used in years, or maybe decades, if the dilapidated umbrella and the fully skeletonised human remains in the sand were anything to go by. Dragging the boat onto the shore, the hitman made sure to pull it up all the way against the rocks so it could not be seen from the torch-lit path going up the cliffs. He was here on a reconnaissance mission, preparing for a double assassination the next day. While 47 was perfectly capable of improvising – especially with the assistance of a handler as capable as Diana – he preferred to plan ahead, snooping around the area before carrying out the mission proper. With the Ark Society’s gathering still weeks away, the group was left with ample time to kill, so Lucas had agreed to let 47 scope out Ambrose Island by himself this evening, not particularly concerned for the agent’s safety. He knew from first-hand experience that 47 was perfectly capable of hiding from view, after all.
The hitman was wearing his tactical wetsuit under a pair of camo-print pants and combat boots. An odd look for your average tourist, to be sure, but it wasn’t flashy enough to make him stand out and he wasn’t really planning on entering the island’s town anyway. No, he was mainly here to look for ways to move between Crest’s cave hideout and Akka’s hut unseen. 47 had noticed a rope bridge leading towards the old ruins above the cave that should be accessible from the top of the stairs, so he quietly scaled them, listening for any of Akka’s guards patrolling the area. The area wasn’t technically off-limits, but there was no reason to assume that members of a pirate syndicate would play by the rules.
It appeared the cliffside security was lax, at least on this day. There had been a single guard patrolling the stairs, and it had been child’s play to sneak past him unseen. Now nearing the highest point of the island, 47 found himself entering a small clearing containing a small campsite and a shrine, with the rope bridge clearly visible in the distance on the far end. The shrine was rather impressive, featuring a large relief of the Buddha in the rock wall behind it. The place was adorned with old lanterns, a number of vases, a smaller gold Buddha statue, a tea kettle, and some lit incense sticks. Over on the other side of the clearing there were two campers, one of whom was out cold in the grass in front of his tent. A large cauldron was bubbling over a fire pit nearby – ayahuasca, judging by the state of the man lying beside it. The other camper stood bent over what appeared to be a makeshift chemistry lab, apparently deep in thought.
The man was a blond 30-something year old with tinted sunglasses. He had an average to fit physique, though he did not look the type to frequent a gym. His lightly stained green shirt, shark tooth necklace and dog tag, brown cargo shorts and hiking boots made him feel right at home in the wilderness. Considering the lab set-up, he was probably some sort of researcher doing field work. He did not seem particularly aware of his surroundings: 47 was quite sure the man hadn’t spotted him yet, and he strongly doubted that the campers had any idea how close they were to Akka’s pirate camp. Considering they weren’t much of a threat, 47 decided that he wouldn’t need to sneak by them, so he walked into the clearing and made eye contact with the researcher.
“Hey, are you into biochemistry at all?” the man called out in a soft voice.
“I suppose I am,” 47 replied, curious as to what the man wanted from him.
“I’m doing my thesis about new applications for biotoxins native to Ambrose Island,” the man said. “If you find any unique frogs or flowers nearby, could you bring them to me? I’ll be happy to share the results of my research with you.”
Biotoxins? Interesting. 47 was rather familiar with those. He supposed that he could also be considered something of a researcher on this topic, though the kinds of new applications he was interested in probably differed from those of the camper. Nevertheless, he would be happy to receive some tools to use during the mission.
“Sounds promising,” the assassin replied with a friendly smile.
The camper looked up in surprise, apparently not expecting the stranger to agree to help. Grinning, he gave the other man a respectful nod. “That’s what my advisor says!” he said mirthfully.
From the corner of his eye, 47 noticed one of Crest’s henchmen approaching from the rope bridge. Not wanting to be seen by Crest’s men, he bade the camper farewell and quickly exited the campsite in the direction of Akka’s base with the intention to circle back around and observe the guard from a safe distance. As he ran down the path between the rocks and passed the lit torch by the cliffside, he noticed Akka’s lone patroller a little too late. The man hadn’t seen him yet, but it wouldn’t be long before he would, especially if 47 did not get out of the light soon. Thinking on his feet, he quickly turned the corner and hid in a small dark alcove behind the stairs to the shrine and held his breath.
As he listened to the guard’s footsteps passing by him, he suddenly noticed a bright and colourful purple flower bud with bright green tipped petals sticking out from the fern beside him. He hadn’t really seen anything like it before. Deciding it might be a good find for the researcher, he quickly plucked the flower from the plant and gently placed it in his pocket. The footsteps returned as Akka’s guard made his way back down the cliffs. After waiting for the man to disappear into the distance, 47 exited the alcove and made his way back to the camp.
Crest’s guard was still standing there, being a nuisance. Sighing lightly, 47 pulled out his emetic dart gun and shot him from across the clearing, hitting him in the side. It didn’t take long for the dart’s effects to work their magic, as the man clutched at his stomach and hurriedly began to make his way over to Akka’s camp to hurl. The assassin was sure that Akka’s men would allow him in, but they would most likely detain him afterwards to question his presence there, so that should take care of him for a few hours.
Putting away his pistol, he casually sauntered back towards the tents.
“I found this,” he told the camper, flower in hand.
“What a beautiful specimen!” exclaimed the researcher, a look of wonder etched on his face as he studied the plant closely. It was honestly kind of adorable, the assassin thought.
“You’d never know it from looking at them, but these flowers can be distilled into an odourless liquid that’s phenomenally lethal,” he continued, before plucking a few of the leaves from the flower and inserting them into the distillation flask.
“So, um, this will take a while. I just realised I never got your name,” the camper said, still fully focused on his distillation kit.
“It’s Tobias,” the agent replied. “And who might you be, Mr. Researcher?”
“Ah, it’s Greg. Gregory Yeager, at your service,” he said while scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be rude or unfriendly. Most people I talk to are only interested in my substances.”
He gave the zoned-out man in the other tent a pointed look.
“Don’t worry,” 47 reassured him. “I understand.”
“It’s just, I know what this operation looks like,” he huffed, gesturing to the ayahuasca hanging over the fire. “Typical, right. Biochemistry student, but I’m really just looking to make my own psychotropics. And like, I do, you know, do that. But I’m also genuinely fascinated by the properties of these kinds of substances and the effects they have on the human body and mind.”
“I think your passion is plain to see,” 47 said affectionately. “Experimentation is only natural.”
“Thanks, man,” Greg replied. “Means a lot. Say, what’s your interest in this stuff?”
“I’m in forensics,” the hitman lied smoothly. “I’m not a forensic toxicologist, but I know a thing or two about it from colleagues.”
“Forensics, huh. Cool! I’m sure your colleagues would love to have a look at this vial then,” Greg said while collecting the poison in a small vial and handing it to the agent. “It’s like, extremely deadly though. Promise you’ll be extra careful with this, friend. And uh, if you happen to find anything else that’s interesting looking, you know where to find me.”
With that, 47 left the camp and walked towards the rope bridge, finding it empty. He crossed the bridge quickly and hid himself in the bushes on the other side, not particularly wanting to be seen by any of Crest’s men today. He wasn’t particularly worried about being spotted on the bridge during his mission later, but he didn’t want them to be able to recognise him as ‘that guy that was snooping around here a few days ago’.
The other side of the bridge was guarded by one stationary henchman and some roaming patrols, but the bushes gave him sufficient cover. The more annoying part of security was a camera affixed to part of a ruin, but a single bullet took care of that. Crouching, he slowly made his way past the guard, who thankfully didn’t look too alert. He was almost through when he was distracted by a ribbit and some quiet hopping sounds. There, between his feet, there was a small black frog with bright orange stripes on its back and arms. The creature was undoubtedly extremely toxic, if its aposematic markings were anything to go by.
47 grabbed the little creature mid-hop almost instinctively, like a cat clawing at a toy on a dangler. He was happy to still be wearing his wetsuit, because he wasn’t actually sure if there would have been any risk to touching the frog with his bare hands. He quickly re-examined his surroundings, but nobody in the area seemed to have heard him snatch up the frog. Thankfully, the little frog wasn’t making much of a fuss. Probably scared half to death, poor thing. The hitman held onto it very lightly, trying his best not to hurt it.
The top layer of the ruinous fort that laid ahead was crawling with guards. It would seem he had found one of their camps. According to Grey’s intel, the satellite control unit had to be somewhere on this island and would be impossible to miss by virtue of its large size and the adjacent technologies a unit of this size would require. The old ruins were hardly a suitable place for any of that and from what 47 could see, there was no sign of such technology here. But the signal they had tracked did unequivocally lead to this part of the island. There must be some sort of cave below the fort, then.
Looking around, he noticed torch light shining through the lower outer wall of the fort. Sneaking his way over, he noticed the wall was brittle, with some missing bricks. He was confident he could… yes! The brick he’d tugged on came loose! The assassin carefully put down the brick and began to disassemble the weak spot until there was a large enough hole for him to fit through. After he made sure the coast was clear, he climbed inside.
Evidently, he had reached the remnants of the old fort’s prison. Luckily, the place was currently relatively unguarded, with just one lone patrol walking between two central points. Surely, there had to be some way down from here, otherwise Crest wouldn’t have bothered to set up camp on top of the island! The assassin quickly roamed around the layer, checking corners and making sure not to be seen by the guard.
It didn’t take long before he spotted the newly installed ladder leading down into a natural basement of sand and rocks. Sliding down it, he quickly realised that he had found what he was looking for. He was standing on a high ledge in a massive cave, which provided a neat vantage point from where he could see the whole operation, including other entrance points and exit points. Yes, this would do. Now he only had to make his way back and discuss the mission plans with Grey.
Instead of looking for a different way out, 47 decided to avoid Crest’s people as much as possible for now and make his way back towards the rope bridge. The patrolling guard was back, but 47 could thankfully distract him by throwing one of the bricks he had pulled out of the wall into the dense foliage off to the side. The remaining stationary guard was still not paying much attention, so 47 could sneak by him and run back across the rope bridge with relative ease.
Back in the camp by the shrine, he approached Greg and gently placed the frog in front of him.
“Here. I think it might interest you,” he said, nodding towards the frog. Greg quickly put it in a compact frog tank that he’d pulled from a drawer so it couldn’t escape.
“Odorrana ambrosii!” he exclaimed after examining it more closely. “This little guy excretes a powerful emetic gas from its… Well, you don’t want to know that part.””
“I suppose I got lucky, then,” 47 chimed in. “It didn’t when I picked it up and carried it around earlier.”
“It must like you, then,” Greg said with a sweet smile. “So do I, actually. I really have to thank you. I thought you were just going to blow me off like everyone else. But I’ve made a lot of progress on my research thanks to you!”
“It was nothing,” 47 replied, happy to have been of service to the researcher.
“You know, I was going to give you a little souvenir for your help, but I have no idea if you would even want to have such a thing,” Greg said with a shrug. He stretched with a lightly fatigued groan. “Do you wanna sit with me? I could do with a break.”
At his nod, the two men walked over to the fire pit and sat down in the grass. Night had well and truly fallen by this point, and the gentle flames of the fire gave the campsite a rather cosy look. 47 leaned back on his hands and looked up at the night sky, quietly appreciating the bright stars.
“Don’t mind Torres there,” Greg said, nodding at the guy lying on his back. “He said he had somewhere to be but got into my personal ‘research stash’, the moron.” He laughed, the hitman chuckling along. “He’s been like this for a bit now. I expect he’ll come to in an hour or so. You wanna try some?”
“Ah, no, I don’t mess with anything like that,” he politely declined the offer. Greg looked aghast.
“Really, nothing?” he asked while pulling out a pre-roll joint.
“No. I don’t like to lose control over my mental faculties,” the assassin replied.
“I suppose that’s fair, man,” Greg admitted, grabbing his lighter. He looked up at 47 before he flicked it. “You mind if I smoke?”
“Go ahead,” 47 grinned, unbothered.
“I normally roll my own,” he said a little defensively, “but I don’t know anyone here, so I’ll take what I can get.” He took a drag on the joint and exhaled with a sigh. The two sat in a peaceful silence for a bit.
“I just realised I haven’t actually told you what applications I’m looking into,” Greg eventually broke the silence. “I’m mainly looking to break down biotoxins so that certain kinds of poisonings can be cured more effectively. Thank you again for helping me out, it is difficult to balance hunting for specimens and spending time researching them at this field lab,” he said, gesturing at the desk with a broad smile.
“Like I said, it was nothing,” 47 stated warmly.
“Hah, so modest! I know from experience that catching these frogs can be a real pain. Anyway, that’s what I spend my hours on the clock doing. In my off-time, I’ve been trying to create the ultimate recreational aphrodisiac.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I’ve been experimenting with some of the common PDE5 inhibitors like sildenafil and tadalafil,” he said. At the agent’s blank stare, he supplied, “more commonly known as Viagra and Cialis.”
“Ah,” 47 said, now curious.
“Yeah, I think they’re fascinating. Aphrodisiacs are generally poorly researched and there have been a lot of instances of placebo effects being passed off as real results. Of course, a lot of recreational relaxants and stimulants like poppers or coke are also known to enhance sex,” the researcher said, matter-of-factly. “But I was curious if I could find a way to combine some of these effects in a way that makes sex feel absolutely divine. So, I’ve looked into some previous research. It has been claimed that bufotenin, which is found in the glands of toads of the Bufo genus, functions in part as an aphrodisiac. The stuff is highly toxic, though, and I didn’t think I could make it work, so I’ve been looking for frogs on Ambrose Island that are a bit better suited for this purpose, and I’ve found some frogs with highly interesting glands that...”
Realising that he’d been talking for a while, he decided to cut straight to the point.
“Anyway, I’ve actually managed to make it work! Its effects are a bit strong, still. I’m trying to dilute it more, but I’ve tested it extensively for safety and it is really rather harmless. They make sex or even masturbation feel a-ma-zing! All my friends are very enthusiastic about it. At worst it might cause some light nausea that should go away after a couple of minutes. I can give you some, if you like? Do you have a wife? A girlfriend? I’m sure she’d love to try it with you,” he tried, almost as if he was trying to sell 47 supplements.
“I don’t,” 47 said, giving the man a hard stare.
“Really? That’s surprising. I was sure a handsome guy like you would have women falling over themselves to get with you,” Greg tried to be supportive.
“I do,” 47 said, a smirk forming on his face. “I’m the one who’s not interested. In women, that is.”
“A-ah! That is, oh, that’s embarrassing! I’m sorry, friend. I shouldn’t be assuming things like that. I didn’t mean anything by it,” the researcher stammered with a blush. “Well, it should work just as well for any male partners, so… Let me just grab it.”
Greg scrambled over to his tent and sat down on his knees in the entrance. He started digging through his stuff, apparently happy to hide his face away from 47’s gaze for now. In doing so, he gave the assassin a nice view of his firm, cargo shorts-clad ass. He wasn’t quite presenting himself to the older man, but it wasn’t too far off; all that was missing was for him to arch his back slightly. Staring at the two globes warmly lit by the fire in front of him, Greg suddenly seemed very enticing. Because of how he was leaning over, his green shirt had also ridden up slightly, revealing a sliver of lightly toned abdomen.
“There it is!” he exclaimed, as he pulled back out of the tent holding a small vial. “I knew I had one laying around there,” he said awkwardly, turning back to 47. “I was worried for a second that I’d have to make a new batch after al- oh!” he stopped in his tracks when he noticed the intent stare the other man was giving him. He was sporting a lecherous grin and his eyes were fully dilated, more so than they were before. Greg swallowed and felt a spark of arousal that surprised him.
“Say, Mr. Researcher,” 47 spoke in a husky tone of voice, “why don’t you give me a demonstration?”
He crawled towards the man, who leaned back in surprise. 47 suggestively put one arm in the grass behind Greg, hovering over the man slightly and pressing his chest up against his. “Show me how it works,” he breathed into the man’s ear, before pulling back slightly and looking him right in the eyes, his icy blue meeting Greg’s hazel. “In the name of science,” 47 added with a grin on his face.
“I would, but I’m not actually ga-ahhn,” he moaned as the stranger cupped his semi-hard cock and gave it a firm squeeze.
“You don’t need to be anything, Gregory,” the man said softly while trailing his fingers alongside the outline of the camper’s now fully-erect penis. “Treat it like an experiment. I assume you’ve never been with a man while testing, so why not give it a shot? I’m sure your friend over there won’t mind,” he nodded over to Torres, who was still very much in the middle of his ayahuasca trip.
Suddenly, his exhibitionist tendencies and forbidden fantasies all flooded his mind at once. Yes, it would be extremely exciting to have sex right here, right in front of Torres, who couldn’t see or hear them at all. Isn’t that exactly what he wanted? Granted, in his mind, his partners were usually women, but… He looked, really looked, at 47 as if he only just saw him for the first time. The man was undeniably handsome, and he couldn’t ignore how his loins stirred when he imagined fooling around with this muscular hunk. The man’s wetsuit was so very tantalising.
“Ah, fuck it,” Greg said decisively, unscrewing the lid of the vial. “Bottoms up!” he threw back the aphrodisiac like he had several times before.
47 was on him almost immediately, straddling his hips and kissing up his neck while he gently lowered Greg onto his back. The assassin led a small trail of kisses from Greg’s neck to his mouth, at which point his tongue darted out, requesting access. Greg’s eyes were closed as he let the handsome man’s tongue enter his mouth, kissing him back with fervour. He knew from experience that the effects wouldn’t kick in for another few minutes, but he was surprised to find that he didn’t need it to love every second of this.
He moved his hands behind the man’s broad chest and attempted to open the man’s wetsuit, but 47 pinned his wrists to the ground with a growl. “Ah-ah-ah, not so fast, Mr. Researcher,” he purred. “You’re not in charge here.”
Greg let out a small whine. He’d never been particularly dominant in bed, but he had never realised that having a strong, domineering partner would turn him on so much. His prick felt painfully restrained by his shorts, and he was sure it was leaking relentlessly.
Meanwhile, 47 had pulled up Greg’s shirt all the way up to his neck and was moving his hands down the researcher’s sides while kissing and softly biting his way down the man’s body. There was a light smattering of hair on his chest and belly that he evidently groomed regularly, with a small happy trail leading into his pants. The assassin let out an appreciative hum while he moved between the camper’s legs and sat on his knees, spreading them slightly and lifting the other man’s legs over them. He then leaned over and scooped Greg up with one hand on his hip and the other behind his waist, pulling him flush against him. Greg instinctively wrapped his arms and legs around 47’s broad shoulders and toned waist and groaned as he felt 47’s bulge rub up against his own. 47 then firmly gripped Greg’s hips and roughly ground their pelvises together, eliciting groans from both.
“I’m going to give you the best orgasm of your life, baby boy,” 47 said in a low voice. “Here, hold up your shirt.”
As Greg pulled up his shirt as far as it could go, 47 began to voraciously explore every inch of his body with his hands and mouth, alternating between kisses and nips that set his body on fire. As he went, Greg’s body gradually began to feel more and more sensitive to the assassin’s touches and his loins started to feel like they were on fire. Unable to stop himself, Greg kept grinding his erection against the large bulge in the other man’s camo-printed pants. The aphrodisiac must have kicked in, Greg knew, but his previous times using this stuff definitely paled in comparison to how he was feeling now. The older man appeared to be an experienced lover who really knew how to press his buttons, buttons the researcher wasn’t even aware that he had.
“Tobia-ahh-as, please,” he whined in the other’s ear, “I’m, unh, I need…”
“Tell me what you need, baby,” 47 encouraged him.
“Fuck! Need, you, out of that!” he cried out. “Please… I can’t,” he tried incoherently.
47 chuckled and put Greg back down, getting up and reaching behind him to tug on the strap attached to the zipper on his wetsuit. Maintaining eye contact, he slowly pulled down the zipper and freed his arms from the wetsuit’s sleeves, letting the front fall down and pulling it down until his waist, revealing a muscular, hairless torso, complete with six-pack abs and pronounced pectoral muscles. Greg’s breath caught in his throat.
“Woah,” Greg voiced his awe.
“Enjoying the view?” 47 asked Greg, waggling his eyebrows.
“Sure am,” the researcher laughed.
“Good. Come here, on your knees,” 47 commanded. “I’ll leave the rest to you. I’m sure you know what to do.”
Greg swallowed and crawled his way towards the agent. He sat down on his knees and did not waste any time. He reached under the rolled-down wetsuit to unbutton the fly of the other man’s pants before pulling them down along with the wetsuit he wore underneath them, revealing a black speedo with a rather prominent bulge pointed towards the right, as well as some strong looking thighs.
Before the assassin could do or say anything, Greg had pressed his face into the man’s crotch and wrapped his lips around the outline of the large appendage, clumsily flicking at it with his tongue and breathing heavily. He pulled back and began kissing the bulge all the way from the middle to the very tip while palming his own erection through his shorts. He looked up at 47 with a look in his eyes that reflected his extreme arousal.
“Adorable as this is, I think you could put your mouth to better use,” 47 said, uncharacteristically impatient. He hooked his fingers under the sides of the speedo and slowly pushed it down, trapping his member in the garment and forcing it downwards until it snapped loose, bouncing back up and slapping softly against Greg’s face. He grabbed a hold of the back of Greg’s head and pushed him nose-first against the base of his cock, allowing the other man a moment to familiarise himself with his musky scent.
“Haanh…” Greg moaned, completely intoxicated by the experience.
“Good boy. Now get to work,” 47 encouraged him, pulling his face away from his crotch briefly before hovering his tip in front of Greg’s face. His tongue darted out briefly, moisturising his lips almost involuntarily, before the man leaned in and placed a light kiss on the swollen head. Not waiting for further instructions, he opened his mouth and enveloped the assassin’s engorged prick, caressing the underside of the shaft with his tongue. He lifted his left hand and wrapped it gently around the thick base and moving in tandem with his mouth. It was his first time going down on a man, so he felt a bit clumsy, but judging from the low moans he was getting he doing pretty alright all things considered.
His other hand soon joined, gently fondling the agent’s heavy balls as if to coax out the semen, causing Tobias to groan deeply. Greg was surprised to find that he found the act of giving a blowjob and bringing another man intense pleasure exhilarating. He wanted the stranger to come apart and fill his mouth completely as his reward for a job well done. He didn’t think that was just because of the aphrodisiac-enhanced arousal he was experiencing, either. Emboldened by his good results and perhaps feeling cocky, he reached up and grabbed the other man’s hand, guiding it to the back of his head. A clear invitation for 47 to set the pace.
“Bold move. I’m not sure you’re ready for that yet,” the hitman said with a smile. “You’re doing a decent job, but you’re barely taking half of my cock right now.”
Yanking back Greg’s head, he rested his large saliva-covered prick on the researcher’s face and pressed his testicles against the submissive camper’s mouth. Without thinking, Greg opened his mouth to lap at them, the scent of the man’s crotch dominating his senses completely. Smiling appreciatively, 47 grabbed the base of his cock and playfully slapped his meat against Greg’s face a few times, resulting in some resounding thuds.
“Besides, I think it’s high time I made good on my promise,” he continued, rubbing his shaft against the man’s face some more before taking a small step back.
Stepping out of the wetsuit completely, he lifted Greg back on his feet. He recaptured the overwhelmed researcher’s lips and roughly yanked down the researcher’s shorts and underwear in one go. Greg squirmed at the sudden exposure of his private bits to the cool night air, but 47 quickly placed his hand on the other man’s pert backside and gave it a firm squeeze, eliciting a low moan from the camper.
“Bend over the lab for me, Greg,” said 47 in a gruff voice, smacking the other man’s right cheek for emphasis.
Greg gave his lover one quick peck on the lips before turning around and excitedly making his way over to the field lab. He placed his hands firmly on the desk, spread his legs slightly and arched his back as far as he comfortably could, eager to show off. Never before had he intentionally exposed himself to anyone quite like this, let alone a man, but right now he desperately needed the handsome stranger to want him – to come over and claim him, again and again. When 47 let out a low whistle in appreciation and muttered something Greg didn’t quite catch in that almost predatory tone of his, the camper felt strongly that there was nobody he would rather be doing this with right now.
47 took a moment to appreciate the younger man’s invitation. Greg looked positively sinful, still wearing his green shirt and hiking boots but clearly showing off his fine, lightly hairy, pert ass along with his tight, virginal hole that the agent couldn’t wait to break in. He generally preferred his partners to be more experienced, but it was undeniably exciting to take a first. Especially from a man who thought himself straight up to this point.
Kneeling down behind him, 47 wasted no time spreading the researcher’s cheeks apart and giving himself a good view of the man’s impossibly tight looking entrance. He licked a long stripe from Greg’s taint up to the cleft, paying extra attention to his entrance as he passed over it. Greg shuddered and moaned at the novel sensation, enhanced as it was by the substance he’d ingested. Then 47 began in earnest, lapping at and tonguing the other man’s hole repeatedly until Greg was emitting a continuous stream of moans.
He only fell quiet when after a while, 47 stopped licking and brought his middle finger to his mouth, getting it nice and wet. He pushed the finger against Greg’s entrance and increasingly put more pressure on it until the tip suddenly slipped inside, causing the researcher to yelp in surprise.
“Easy there, baby,” 47 encouraged him. “Give it a bit, allow your body to get used to the intrusion. Tell me when you’re ready for more.”
Greg nodded and closed his eyes. He’d expected to feel some level of pain, but it never came. Instead, he found that it felt slightly awkward. Definitely wasn’t a bad sensation, though.
“Okay, you can move,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
47 complied immediately, slowly pushing the finger in and pulling it back out, patiently working the digit until Greg barely noticed any stretch anymore. In fact, it began to feel quite good. He moaned as 47 pushed in particularly deep and curled his finger up against his insides, but the other man soon stopped moving.
He pulled the finger back out and wet another, his index finger this time. Pressing the two fingers against his hole together, Greg found that he had a pretty easy time keeping it relaxed. Perhaps the aphrodisiac made this process easier? He didn’t think it would help him relax his sphincter this much.
It didn’t take much pressure for 47’s fingers to slide back inside and Greg soon found himself stretching over three, then four fingers. Every time, he got used to the penetration faster; the longer they went at it, the better he started to feel. He was starting to really look forward to taking the real thing, knowing that it was quite a bit larger than just the four digits but excited to have his hole stretched out enough to be able to accommodate the other man’s rather large dick. When 47 pulled out his fingers one last time, he knew that he was ready.
Still, he couldn’t help but whimper in trepidation when he felt the heft of the other man’s cock nestled between his soft globes. He slid his package back and forth, reminding Greg just how much cock he was expected to take shortly.
“Think you’re ready for what’s next, baby boy?” 47 purred.
“Give it to me,” Greg egged him on. “Please, I need you in me!”
47 quickly pulled a condom from his pocket and swiftly unwrapped it and rolled it down his swollen prick. Pulling out a small bottle of lube, he coated his member with it and stroked a few times to spread the lube around, making sure he was fully covered. He spat onto Greg’s hole once more for good measure, and lined himself up.
Both men groaned as the researcher’s entrance was fully breached for the first time, Greg’s moan slightly strained from being stretched out further than he’d previously thought possible and 47’s one of pure bliss from the exquisite tightness of the unexplored passage. Gently holding onto the other man’s hips, 47 held still for a moment when he’d worked about half his length inside, allowing Greg to get used to him.
“You’re doing great,” he praised the other man. “How do you feel?”
“I-ngh,” he exhaled in light pain.
“Need more time to get used to me?” the assassin asked, concerned that he might have been too much for a first time.
“N-no, that’s alright, just take it slo-woah, okay,” he panted when 47 pushed further inside of him. “God, that’s just, huge!”
With small movements, 47 started out with some small thrusts in and out of the whimpering man, gradually going deeper. Even with help from the aphrodisiac, it took a while before Greg’s discomfort started to ebb away. But eventually it did, and slowly, waves of pleasure began to course through his body.
“More.”
47 grinned. This was his favourite part. Every time he pulled back out, he went a little bit further; every time he thrust back in, he snapped his hips a little harder. And Greg could only moan as his insides were being moulded, transformed and reshaped to perfectly accommodate the large invading organ.
By the time 47 fully bottomed out, Greg felt like he had been transported to a place of pure ecstasy. The world around him disappeared and he could focus on nothing but how amazing he felt. His nerve endings were on fire, the older man’s increasingly firm grip on his hips leaving a permanent imprint in his skin. Eventually one hand – he was too blissed out to even be sure which – left his hip and moved to his chest, pulling him backwards, leaving his back arched and his hole delightfully impaled on the girthy cock that was ruining him for all future partners to come.
“Haagh, ahh, ah,” Greg moaned uncontrollably, making the assassin’s cock twitch.
Leaning backwards slightly, 47 pulled Greg back further, letting the smaller man fall flush against his torso. He moved his hands under the researcher’s legs and lifted them in the air, fully carrying the other man with little effort. Greg, who was by this point only vaguely aware of what was happening, planted his feet on the lab’s desk and started to bounce up and down 47’s length with the other man’s assistance. 47 moved his hands to Greg’s hips and upped the pace, meeting every time Greg slammed down on his cock with a thrust up into his lover.
With this sustained battery of Greg’s prostate and considering the effects of the substance he had taken, it was only a matter of time before his constant stream of incoherent moans began to grow louder, announcing the man’s impending orgasm. His now-wrecked hole began to constrict around the assassin’s fat cock, becoming almost impossibly tight once more. Deciding the finale needed his full attention, 47 carefully lowered Greg onto his feet. He grabbed a firm hold of his hips once more, and began fucking him with abandon.
It didn’t take long before Greg’s crescendo of moans reached its peak and he came with a loud yell, spurting several ropes of cum from his unattended dick that bounced around with the force of each of the assassin’s powerful thrusts, his hole clenching rhythmically and pathetically around the invading penis. The sensation pushed the agent towards his own peak as well. Satisfied that he had delivered the mind-blowing orgasm he’d promised Greg, he decided it was his turn to be selfish. He pulled out of the researcher, who was still experiencing aftershocks, and yanked the condom off. Gripping his length, he began to stroke himself at a frantic pace, chasing his own climax.
“Hey,” he said to the barely-conscious Greg, “open up.”
Greg sat up slightly and opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue. 47’s deep groans continued until he erupted with a deep grunt, coating the camper with rope after rope of thick semen that covered his entire tongue, some stray spurts also making a mess of his face and shirt.
The researcher felt like a whore, and he utterly loved it. He was surprised to still feel this way, even with the effects of the aphrodisiac diminishing by the minute. Perhaps he really wasn’t as straight as he thought he was, because he would definitely need to try this again in the future.
“Dude…” came from the other tent.
Greg turned around and locked eyes with Torres, who was now sitting up and staring at him with an incredulous look on his face. A few seconds of silence passed. He felt a bit of Tobias’ semen fall from his cheek onto his shirt.
“Why do I always miss out on the good stuff?”
Embarrassing as that final moment was, Greg would always look back fondly on his time with Tobias. He never saw the man again, which was only really unfortunate to the extent that he would have loved another go. After wrapping up his research on Ambrose Island and sending in his work, his supervisor was enthusiastic about his results and encouraged him to explore other islands in the Andaman Sea next. Torres would probably tag along, again, though their friendship had entered a new stage, now that it had become clear that they shared a love for big hunky men.
He’d ended up calling the aphrodisiac Ambrosia, both after the island and the nectar of the Greek gods. It had been Tobias’ suggestion, right before the two parted ways forever. Nobody needed to know that part, though. He could already imagine what people would say. ‘What, so a good dicking is all it takes to get naming rights for your discoveries?’ He knew he wasn’t even able to refute such a question.
He also wouldn’t be able to refute that he had later purchased a large purple dildo and called it Tobias, and that he would ride it until he came hands-free every time his thoughts took him back to that time in the clearing in the forest.
Greg sure was glad he had left the island when he did. The very day after he’d left, the island’s pirate leader and some military guy had been killed under highly suspicious circumstances, though they hadn’t been able to find a culprit. He sincerely hoped Tobias had made it out safe before all that stuff happened, too. At least no other fatalities or injuries had been reported in the news, so he was reasonably sure the man wasn’t harmed.
He was probably doing just fine.