Feeling Yussa relax, Caleb finally withdraws his fingers slowly, giving his body a little time to rest and giving Yussa the chance to decide if he would like to continue. When Yussa's thighs splay open again so he has space to move, Caleb pushes himself up and sits back on his heels.
Despite how his cock still strains obviously at the thin, damp layer of his smallclothes, how his skin is flushed from his face down through his chest, how uneven his breathing is in comparison to Yussa's, he still makes no complaint or request. His arousal is an ache, and pain is something he can deal with. If Yussa has lost interest in being fucked or decides he is done for the night after all, Caleb will ask for a bathroom and finish himself off before he heads home.
Of course, he hopes for a little more than that. He would love to be inside him, but he would feel lucky if Yussa wanted to reciprocate in any way. Regardless, he doesn't press. He's already shared that his primary interest is seeing to Yussa's needs, and that is accurate. If it pleases Yussa to give him relief, then it will happen. If it doesn't, it won't. Caleb is not only happy to leave that choice in his hands, but wants to. Let someone else decide what he deserves.
Giving a slightly self-conscious tug on one of the shoulder straps of the harness he is still wearing, Caleb demurs, "Ah, thank you. If you are pleased, I am very glad." That praise scorches so sweetly, burns through him right down to his belly. There is nothing modest about the raw want in his eyes when he looks at Yussa spread out before him, lovely and languid with lingering pleasure because he made him that way.
no subject
Despite how his cock still strains obviously at the thin, damp layer of his smallclothes, how his skin is flushed from his face down through his chest, how uneven his breathing is in comparison to Yussa's, he still makes no complaint or request. His arousal is an ache, and pain is something he can deal with. If Yussa has lost interest in being fucked or decides he is done for the night after all, Caleb will ask for a bathroom and finish himself off before he heads home.
Of course, he hopes for a little more than that. He would love to be inside him, but he would feel lucky if Yussa wanted to reciprocate in any way. Regardless, he doesn't press. He's already shared that his primary interest is seeing to Yussa's needs, and that is accurate. If it pleases Yussa to give him relief, then it will happen. If it doesn't, it won't. Caleb is not only happy to leave that choice in his hands, but wants to. Let someone else decide what he deserves.
Giving a slightly self-conscious tug on one of the shoulder straps of the harness he is still wearing, Caleb demurs, "Ah, thank you. If you are pleased, I am very glad." That praise scorches so sweetly, burns through him right down to his belly. There is nothing modest about the raw want in his eyes when he looks at Yussa spread out before him, lovely and languid with lingering pleasure because he made him that way.