Escape from an Ancient Civilization Ch 207(NSFW)

Chapter 207 Side Story 2(NSFW)

 

Episode 9

“Haa… Teresi.”

“Yeah?”

“This feels like torture.”

“Torture?”

Nataek slowed the movement of his hips, though widened the arc. Each time he rolled his abdomen forward, Medeus’s tip teased almost piercing inside him, only to pull back again. With each faint brush pressing his puckered rim, Medeus’s hips jerked in need, the hard length nudging mercilessly close.

“You’re riling me up like this, then telling me to stay still—how is that not torture?”

Trapped beneath, Medeus twisted his restrained arm palm-up, long fingers grazing along Nataek’s as he whispered,

“My jacket’s behind us. Let me reach into the inner pocket—there’s a condom.”

But Nataek only smirked and shook his head.

“Tonight, it only happens the way I allow it.”

“Firm, aren’t you.”

Yet Medeus hardly seemed displeased. When Nataek lifted his hips slightly and guided him with his hand, that momentary shift gave Medeus one arm free. He grabbed at Nataek’s thighs to stop him.

“You’ll hurt yourself. Warm up more first.”

“No. I can take it tonight.”

Aligning the tip with his entrance, Nataek toyed himself, rubbing against the rim. The slickness from precome smeared over with each nudge. In the cramped car, mixed with the haze of alcohol, their hearts beat dizzyingly fast. For Medeus, who had drunk nothing, the intoxication came purely from Nataek’s uncharacteristic assertiveness.

The teasing thrusts continued, Medeus biting down on his lip to anchor his frayed patience. How rare it was for Nataek to press so boldly. If it meant prolonging this, he could endure. And yet, when Nataek knelt up and, slowly, deliberately sank down—

“Ahhh… hhh…”

Even loosened by drink, he had not properly stretched himself, and the inner walls clamped down around Medeus’s thickness in fierce resistance. The squeeze made him grip Nataek’s waist tight. But Nataek gasped, reaching blindly.

“Hand—ahh—hold, Medeus—nnn…”

Nearly collapsing forward, he planted his palm on Medeus’s chest. Their hands clapped together, fingers interlaced firmly.

Then Nataek began, lifting and dropping his hips, enfolding him inside. The tight pressure eased with the rhythm, slickness spreading until his body accepted the girth more readily.

His black hair swung loosely; strands matted with sweat clung to his cheeks—so beautiful Medeus longed to touch, but bound by interlocked hands he could only channel the urge into his thrusts.

“I said… I’m in control—ahh!”

The car rocked violently. Nataek’s untouched length dripped steadily, pulsing with every bounce. Even this “restraint,” just their hands locked, was intoxicating. It meant Medeus was held utterly in Nataek’s grasp. He adored him for it, adored him so much he could have ruined him within moments. Instead, gnashing his lips, he met each descent with harder surges. Wet sounds echoed as the car jolted rhythmically.

“Ahhh, ahh!”

When Nataek began pitching forward, Medeus seized behind his knees, hauling them up toward his chest. His entrance opened wider, folds stretched red and taut from friction. Grinding against Medeus’s half-bared shirt, Nataek’s own arousal twitched, trembling on the edge. His whimper keened as his toes curled, just as Medeus bit his ear, whispering,

“I’m coming inside.”

Nataek only nodded fiercely, clutching his shirt.

“Uhhhgghh!”

Hot release spread inside him, soaking deeply. Moments later, his own climax burst, gushing across Medeus’s stomach and chest. Milky streams seeped around the seal of penetration, trailing sluggishly down.

“Haa… I said I was supposed to be in charge…” mumbled Nataek, limp against him.

“Then we’ll simply go again,” Medeus replied, sliding free. Cum ran down over his thighs and stained the car seat. With a sigh, he pressed fingers against the messy entrance, pressing gently until the pooled liquid trickled out in spurts. Watching the soiled upholstery, he only thought briefly—they’d need a car wash after this. Still cradling him, he turned his body comfortably.

Coincidence. Was it ever truly coincidence?

Walking alone along unfamiliar streets, Nataek pondered. Medeus’s photoshoot brought them to Stockholm, the capital of Sweden. But for Nataek, Sweden was more than a mere tourist stop. It was both the home of Sununki’s developers—and the place where Medeus’s mother had once lived in the modern north. Fate itself seemed intertwined here.

While Medeus worked, Nataek wandered the neighborhood. The old quarter, Gamla Stan, brimmed with shops and ancient buildings, air heavy with foreign charm. He halted at one stall overflowing with antiques and trinkets.

This… looks like a clay tablet.

Among the crude wares—a lumpish earthen disc, a rusted dagger studded with gems and metal—he suddenly froze. Something about the primitive designs struck him. As he stared, the shopkeeper, an old man, emerged.

“Welcome, take a look,” the man said—switching to English the instant he recognized a foreigner. Drawn in, Nataek stepped inside.

The entire shop was wood: walls, floors, ceiling. Taxidermy lined the surfaces, trinkets scattered across the shelves.

“Browse freely,” the owner said kindly.

Nataek nodded, wandering. The pieces, all aged, radiated unsettling weight. He shivered, vowing just one quick lap.

Then—something caught him like prey.

A faded wooden box, marked by a blue sigil. At once, his lungs felt robbed.

That… that looks like the Sununki symbol.

The same mark engraved on the cursed game’s package, carved here unmistakably. His breath quickened. Daringly he approached, lifting the lid. Inside—two old plastic jewel cases. His hands trembled as he picked one up.

“No, it can’t be—”

But it was.

The CD. The Sununki CD. Not a Korean-language copy, but some older, foreign print. Still, the art, the packaging—he knew them too well. Panicking, he shoved it back. The second case was only a medieval-style game, harmless enough—yet the fact that the two had lain together was ominous enough.

Once, he would have pounced on such treasures, hungry for games. Now, long since severed from that world, he shoved both back and closed the box. Just then, the shopkeeper’s voice drifted back:

“Brought those in a long time ago. Must be twenty years by now. Once had a few more—this one simply never sold.”

Horrified, Nataek only shook his head, waving the offer away.

“No, thank you. Goodbye.”

And he fled, heart pounding until he stumbled into the brightness outside a café, gasping for air.

“Whew… chills…” Wiping cold sweat from his brow, he barely steadied himself when—

“Teresi!”

From down the street, Medeus waved and strode toward him. At last, Nataek’s panic thawed. He rushed into him, arms clasping tight around his waist. Startled, Medeus froze only a heartbeat before wrapping his big hand warmly over his back, asking in a gentled voice—