....although you'd have to really let me go if you're committed to such a vulgar education.
[Testing the waters. Testing everything, really, including Fenris' normally fearsome resolve. A tall task over the rabbiting of his heart in his own hears (fluctuating pulse a mirror for the ache between his thighs, dizzying taxed senses further)—
But he's such a greedy thing, Astarion.
Overstimulation in his world is a synonym of contentment. Each rise of blistering hot bliss caught squirming between his teeth with every shameless moan he doesn't stifle in the slightest, almost daring plaster walls to carry it somewhere else. To carry it to someone else, garnering attention. He likes those roughened hands on him, the broad splay of strong fingers wrapped around his wrists, his ribs, his hips, covering more ground than he does when he sets his fingers to his skin. So much so that when Fenris eases off, it's Astarion that cinches his knees tighter, rocking down into that humid swell of heat between strong thighs.
His mouth is open. His breathing quick and wet, lips parted. If there was more than just one shitty, broken light clinging to taped wiring overhead, those eyes would shine with glassy hunger.
As things are, he just exhales it round white canines.]
....or is your cock too hard to make it to that bed without giving up and fucking me in the backseat of my car....?
[He's closer. Flexibility affords a nimble young thing the ability to defy lithe joints, and when he grinds this time to the point of quaking his own breath, his nose scuffs low across the edge of one tanned cheek— flirting with Fenris' jaw. Painting him with his voice.
Let go, urges the little thing that's wending tight around him.]
no subject
....although you'd have to really let me go if you're committed to such a vulgar education.
[Testing the waters. Testing everything, really, including Fenris' normally fearsome resolve. A tall task over the rabbiting of his heart in his own hears (fluctuating pulse a mirror for the ache between his thighs, dizzying taxed senses further)—
But he's such a greedy thing, Astarion.
Overstimulation in his world is a synonym of contentment. Each rise of blistering hot bliss caught squirming between his teeth with every shameless moan he doesn't stifle in the slightest, almost daring plaster walls to carry it somewhere else. To carry it to someone else, garnering attention. He likes those roughened hands on him, the broad splay of strong fingers wrapped around his wrists, his ribs, his hips, covering more ground than he does when he sets his fingers to his skin. So much so that when Fenris eases off, it's Astarion that cinches his knees tighter, rocking down into that humid swell of heat between strong thighs.
His mouth is open. His breathing quick and wet, lips parted. If there was more than just one shitty, broken light clinging to taped wiring overhead, those eyes would shine with glassy hunger.
As things are, he just exhales it round white canines.]
....or is your cock too hard to make it to that bed without giving up and fucking me in the backseat of my car....?
[He's closer. Flexibility affords a nimble young thing the ability to defy lithe joints, and when he grinds this time to the point of quaking his own breath, his nose scuffs low across the edge of one tanned cheek— flirting with Fenris' jaw. Painting him with his voice.
Let go, urges the little thing that's wending tight around him.]