A Little Frantic

BY : DPSmuttering
Category: Marvel Verse Comics > Deadpool
Dragon prints: 2540
Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or Deadpool. I make no money off of this story.

Deadpool - Masturbation - nc-17 - Pairing - ?

At this point it was turning into a bit of a frantic frustration. The battle was over, blood slick on the floors, tension high and testosterone raised. The job was complete, and money was in the bank.

He just needed a release, something to let go and just break. It was hours away until there would be a chance to see ‘him’ again. He barely lost any breath on the job so why did his mind feel like it was so frenzied, erratic, craving? Normally you do a job, get in and get out but this had been quicker than usual, there was time for just a moment…

He pressed his back up against the cool granite wall, the cold icy feeling penetrating his uniform quickly. It felt good after the rush, almost as good as a shower; save that for later though.

He glanced around to double check for anyone remaining; normally he was never like this… Between the feeling of being sure everyone was taken care of and the urgency of not even caring, he bit the tip of his glove and pulled his hand out, slipping it down his front. His cold hand glanced across his hips and abdomen as it trailed down to grab his length, already firm and impatiently waiting.

He kept his other hand firmly to his side on his gun and let himself slide down to the ground. Just a few minutes…

The cold roughness of his hands along the warm thickness of himself was always a nice trigger; he arched his back, pressing his shoulders harder against the granite. His thumb crossed the head of his cock and he circled the precum around, back and forth; it could almost feel like ‘his’ tongue, like right before 'he' would bring 'his' mouth down. His hand tightened and ran its way down his shaft, he let his fingers linger around his balls; massaging, tugging, pressing.  

“Ungh…”

He froze and stopped everything, listening carefully. It was either him that made the sound or someone else… Sometimes it got difficult figuring out what he was really hearing…

He stayed frozen for a few moments more and when he didn’t hear anything else he started to move his hand again.

His ‘free’ hand idly fondled the cold metal of the hilt of the gun at his side. Heh, the width was almost right…

Screw it… He dropped the gun to the ground and fumbled his belt free.

He scrunched the fabric of his pants down a bit, resting under his ass cheeks. He kept himself propped against the wall and spread his legs, bringing his heels to rest against his ass. It was a bit uncomfortable but at the same time, that stretch, the tight muscles, it all comes together and the need just escalates.

His free hand dropped back down and grabbed the hilt of his gun. He clenched his eyes shut, focused on his hands, one pressing hard and pumping at his cock; the other fondling along the intricacies of the gun design.

He huffed in frustration, ‘Just not the same…’

He set the gun down again and lifted a hand to his mask, lifting it enough to expose his mouth. He shoved two fingers in his mouth, massaging them against his tongue.

‘Almost…’ He slid another finger in his mouth and embraced the sweet and salty copper taste of his gloved fingers. He traced his tongue along the seams. He could feel his gut tighten and a feeling in his stomach drop. He wanted so much more than this right now.

He flexed his thighs, stretching them apart, pressing his hand all the way down his shaft. His back arched and he pushed his shoulders away from the wall with the back of his skull. He let himself fall forward onto his knees and landed with his face against the ground, his arm stretched to the side with his fingers still in his mouth and his other hand pumping harder and more firmly. ‘Little more…”

He clenched his eyes tight and moved his fingers from his mouth down to his balls. The sudden smooth and warm damp cloth was a welcomed sensation. He massaged around his balls before using two fingers to press against his perineum. He kept pressing in time with his strokes from his other hand.

He bit his lower lip as he felt himself getting so close to that edge. When he tasted the warm copper blood on his tongue, it was finally enough to push him over.

His body shuddered, his hand slamming down the length of his cock, his gloved hand coming back up to steady him. The sweet temporary relief washed over him as he rode the wave. He felt the remnants of warm cum sliding down his cock, sticking between his fingers.

He let himself stay like that a few moments before he pushed himself back up to his knees. His hand clasped around his cock lifted slowly, catching cum along his fingers. He smirked when his eyes fell to the drops of white on the ground, a hazy blush still burning on his cheeks. He pulled a small rag from a pouch on his belt and wiped his hand down before wiping at the floor.

Not much, but it would do until he was in his own place…

He quickly righted his pants, belt, gloves and mask before letting out a slight sigh of relief. It wasn’t the greatest but it would do until he could get his hands back on ‘him.’

He collected his weapons from the premises and his eyes fell to the dart guns that the initial wave of men had been hitting him with. He went ahead and grabbed a few cartridges. He wasn’t sure what was in them but whatever it was certainly packed some kind of punch, of a sort. It would be worth checking out what the hell they hit him with…



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