Title:           AnonxSammy2
Author:          Heatseekerboy
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/gAtws02d
First Edit:      Thursday 13th of March 2014 01:53:32 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Thursday 13th of March 2014 01:53:32 AM CDT

"Aughhhhhh..." Sam groans as he clips the film so the scenes would line up. The tape stuck to his talon flops around and gets stuck on his chestfeathers. He tugs at it, and with a small grimace, pulls it off. A small amount of down sticks to it.
 
"Are you sure you don't want any help, baby?" you ask. He'd been at it for hours, since before you got home. He didn't even stop when you made him dinner (a light salad followed by slow-cooked ribroast and a buttery scallop scampi), choosing to eat quickly without leaving his well-lit desk. He looks up at you for a moment, his bloodshot eyes taking a few seconds to focus on you.
 
"Hmm?" he grunts. "No, it's okay, I've got it covered, Anon." He turns back to his work.
 
You walk over to where he's sitting in his chair, hunched over the film. You put your hands on his shoulders, right where his neck meets his wings. He's so tense there; you give him a massage and a light kiss on the cheek.
 
"I'm sorry about this, Anon," he mumbles apologetically. "Just... After this, we'll be on easy street."
 
"Sam," you say flatly. "I'm already there." You reach a hand down past his shoulder and feel his chestfeathers, running your fingers through his soft down. "As long as I've got you, I don't need anything else."
 
Sam takes a moment. He closes his eyes and sighs, leaning his head back against your shoulder.
 
"It's called 'Horsefeathers,'" he says quietly, eyes still closed. You already knew; Samuel Predeuxcine was not a name known in the film industry, but his indie documentaries had gained a small following amongst the local university students and politicos. This one was about how ancient Pegasopolitan standards of beauty were being unrealistically applied to modern pegasi. Film fit Sammy so well; he couldn't focus on one thing for more than a few months, so his projects that went long often petered out. But documentaries could be finished in a matter of weeks, which suited him just fine.
 
 
"You're doing some real good, you know," you offer encouragingly. You don't know anything about editing film, but you do know how to edit his mood. As if on cue, Sam's beak cracks a smile.
 
"Somebody tell Photo Finish and Fleur de Lis," he chuckles in a low deadpan. You lay a kiss on his cheek, and glance at the clock. 11:31 PM. If you don't get to bed soon....
 
"AJ's going to kill you tomorrow morning if you don't get to bed soon, Anon," Sammy says, as if reading your mind.
 
You bite your lip. You don't want to leave him alone, but you *do* have to go to bed...
 
"Go on," he says. "Shoo!" He flares his wings and puffs his feathers out to give you a little push. You giggle a bit, give him a goodnight kiss on the beak, and head off to bed.
 
You awaken early the next morning, 6AM sharp. After a quick shower and shave, you come out to the living room to find that Sam is asleep hunched over his desk. He looks so cute just sitting there...
 
You quietly stalk to the phone and call in for a sick day. AJ isn't pleased, but understands. You sneak back into the living room, where Sammy sits snoring, a small puddle of saliva pooling on the desk. You should probably stop him from sleeping there before it ruins the film.... But how? You lean him back into the chair, hoping it won't wake him up. Unfortunately, it does.
 
"Whozaa...... What?" he spews groggily, rising from the chair all at once.
 
"Shhh," you say gently, leading him by claw over to the couch, where he collapses on his back immediately. His snores are louder than before. You sit down next to his head, shimmying it onto your lap. Somehow he remains asleep.
 
You sit for a good hour, simply listening to your love breathe and snore, idly caressing his feathers all the while. You don't know when he finally fell asleep, but it might have been recently, so he might sleep all day. You'd be content to sit with him for the rest of your days.
 
Your hand tires of feather, and moves to caress his fur. After a few moments, his claw reaches up and grasps your free hand. He cracks an eye and grins. You take his claw in both hands, massaging his talons, arm, shoulder, and wings. He drifts in and out of sleep, finally coming to full lucidity at around 1pm.
 
"Morning, sunshine," you say, planting a long kiss on his warm forehead. He gives you a playful nip on the neck while you're bent down. "I took the day off," you say, before he can ask.
 
His eyes bely gravity of your act; a day off is no light thing for you. He reaches his arms up and squeezes you around the middle. After a moment, he pulls himself up on your, coming to sit on your lap facing you. He gives you a long kiss on the lips, and shrouds both of you with his wings.
 
"I love you more than anything, Anon," he whispers into your ear. You respond with a long squeeze, even holding his tail between your legs.
 
Sammy holds your head in his chestfeathers, wreathing you with his wings. He smells of vanilla and cigarettes, and a certain hint of musk which makes your heart race just thinking about it. You return his embrace, running your fingers all over his flanks and back. Suddenly, he releases you, and drops off your lap onto the floor, kneeling in front of you. That's odd, normally you're the one who-
 
He slides his talons into the elastic waistline of your boxers, running them all the way around your front. So that's how he's going to play this....
 
"Your little sparrow is ready, big Sammy," you say seductively.
 
"No, my love," he says. "Today, *you* are the eagle, and I am the sparrow." This takes you by surprise; he's never bottomed before that you know of. You don't even think you know how to top. But he seems intent.
 
He dispenses with your clothing by pulling off your boxers and pajama pants in one swift motion, revealing your already erect, yet still somewhat confused, cock. He looks at it, not entirely sure what to do, and gives it a lick. Oooh, my, that's good... He licks it again. And again. You shudder from his teasing, and give him a pleading face. He obliges and takes it all into his beak.
 
It feels strange, at first; it's warm, wet, and quite soft. He moves his beak around your cock and you remember what pleasure feels like. You gasp, feeling the soft, wet flesh of his tongue and throat clash with the warm, hard cartilage of his beak. It's like a study in opposites, but he guides you through. His tongue strokes your cock like an artist painting a canvas, and you have to stifle the urge to thrust into him with all your strength. You place your hand on his head, caressing his soft, lovely feathers to tell him what a good job he's doing.
 
"My lovely, perfect little sparrow," you manage to say before he shuts you up with a quick lash of the tongue to your glans. You inhale quickly, and squeak, "I'm close."
 
He eases up, playing with your cock gently and more slowly. You feel his claw cup your balls, giving them a light squeeze. His hands are warm and soft, and you feel as if you're going to explode in his mouth. "Sammmmyyyyyy," you moan. He prods your perineum and almost sends you over the edge. He must have noticed your response, because as you glance down at him, he looks up at you, a cocky look on his face. He pulls away from your crotch, but keeps you hard by stroking your cock.
 
"Lie back," he says, while rearing up on his paws. You do as he says and lie down on the couch. He swings on top of you, and without missing a beat, plops down on your cock, spearing himself. His face screws up in surprise and pain, and your heart goes out to him. He must not have known.... But he's tough, and his pain turns to determination.
 
"I'm going to make you cum, my eagle," he says, clearly shrugging off pain and trying to focus on pleasure.
 
"I'll make you cum, my budgie," you say, enjoying the role switch.
 
Sam draws himself up, and then lowers himself down back onto your cock, slowly at first, but with increasing relaxation and confidence, he increases his speed. Once he gets a feel for what he's doing, you can see he's actually enjoying himself.
 
"Oh, my big falcon," he pants, squeezing you.
 
"That's right, my little canary," you say, chuckling. You try thrusting up into him, but he puts a stern claw on your chest.
 
"Not today, my strong, sexy hawk. Oh, no. Your little starling is going to do *alllll* the work for you," he says in a sultry tone. For some reason, that made him all the sexier to you, and you have to work not to fuck him. Laying there without moving was torture, and quite submissive; no wonder you liked it so much. After a minute or two, you can't take it any more, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him down to kiss you. He obliges, and bounces his pert ass up and down on your crotch, his tail writhing and curling in pleasure all the while.
 
The change in angle must have made things more fun for him, since he started moaning nearly immediately after you broke off your kiss.
 
"OoooooooOOOohhh, fuck me, eagle daddy!" he moans, cradling your head in his claws as he continuously pounds himself with your dick. You kiss him again, finding his tongue in his mouth and wrestling with it. You grab his ass and squeeze his cheeks as hard as you can, causing him to shudder and groan.
 
"Come on, Sammy, cum for me; cum for your big eagle," you say. Normally quite reserved, his moans are turning you on all the more.
 
"HooooooaaaaaaaaOOOooooohhhhhh... Anon, finish me, please," he begs. Whether he was unable or inexperienced enough to do it himself didn't matter any more. You give a few quick adjustments and hit him right where you know his spot to be....
 
"OooOOOOOOOH!" he shouts. You feel him contract, squeezing your dick tightly, as he begins to come. You feel him squirt warm liquid onto your stomach, and strangely, warm liquid drips from his face onto your chest. You notice he's tearing up as you're fucking him senseless, and his wings are flaring with each thrust, too.
 
"Ohhh! Anon, fuck me! GOD! I love you!" he squeals. "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouhoohooooooo~" he moans until he runs out of breath. You begin to cum alongside him, squirting into him like you've never done before. He continues to spasm and arc, tensely heaving as he sobs in pleasure. You finish cumming quicker than he does, but he keeps squeezing your cock, and holding onto your shoulders for dear life. You give one last thrust before you run out of steam, causing him to gasp and arc his back towards you, his chestfeathers spreading his cum and tears over your skin.
 
He collapses onto your chest, his claws and wings falling limp. He looks at you with big eagle eyes; you don't see anything but love in his deep green eyes. You caress his head with one hand while squeezing his claw with another. He occasionally trembles and shivers, but it passes quickly, especially as you grow flaccid within him. His superior weight starts to press down on you, making it difficult to breathe, but you don't mind. He kisses you over and over again, and you stay locked in your embrace for what feels like an eternity.
 
After a while, you both get up. He disentangles himself from you, and you breathe more easily with him off you. You take a shower together, embracing and swaying together, simply enjoying the sounds the water makes as your redirect its flow with your bodies. After you've both cleaned up, you say your first words to each other since coitus.
 
"Was it worth it," you ask. He nearly tears up.
 
"Of course it was worth it; anything for you, Anon. I love you with my everything. You're my whole world," he said, hugging you tightly.
 
That was enough to convince you. He went back to work on his film after a spell, and you started to make dinner. Without words, you could tell that even though he enjoyed it, it didn't change anything between you; only reaffirming how much you loved each other. Everything was as it should be.