Yussa's legs rest beside the leather straps of the harness he still wears, Caleb's hands on the outside of his thighs keeping them in place. Arousal thrums through him in a warm undercurrent, pleasant but relegated to the back of his mind. His attention is on Yussa's needs, not his own. And he loves how Yussa makes those needs known.
Feeling the older man unwind, relaxing into the couch even as he rolls his hips to chase his tongue, thighs tensing around his head, is proof that his performance is being well received. He gives Yussa a little of what he is looking for, dipping his tongue into the wet, searing heat of him, and then over his clit again, smearing the fresh slick dripping from his cunt against his chin.
The sweet tension of fingers in his hair is soothed by gentler rubbing against the back of his neck, which feels rewarding. Every affirmation is golden spark dancing along his spine, spreading its warmth through his body; as Yussa distractedly caresses and encourages him, that flare becomes brighter, and Caleb moans dazedly, cock throbbing behind the placket of his trousers.
Sweet boy, Yussa sighs again in a perfectly reconstructed echo in his own mind, and Caleb shudders as he licks gently at his folds. Being called such a thing by this man, in praise for this act, is...what it does for him probably isn't something he can name or quantify, especially now. But those words touch something essential in him that has not been handled in a long time. It is embarrassing. It is exhilarating. He would do anything to hear it again. So he gets to work.
Each swipe of his tongue goes deeper; each time he coaxes Yussa's entrance open further, parts his fluttering walls and gives him the kind of penetration he was grinding himself against his face to find. Caleb listens to Yussa's breathing, his Elven cursing, feels the stretching-seeking movements of his body, and when he judges it to be most effectual, dips his tongue deep into the pulsing heat of his core. He shifts a hand, curling his arm around and over a slender thigh, so he can thumb at his clit, so he doesn't have to stop fucking his tongue in and out of Yussa's body.
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Feeling the older man unwind, relaxing into the couch even as he rolls his hips to chase his tongue, thighs tensing around his head, is proof that his performance is being well received. He gives Yussa a little of what he is looking for, dipping his tongue into the wet, searing heat of him, and then over his clit again, smearing the fresh slick dripping from his cunt against his chin.
The sweet tension of fingers in his hair is soothed by gentler rubbing against the back of his neck, which feels rewarding. Every affirmation is golden spark dancing along his spine, spreading its warmth through his body; as Yussa distractedly caresses and encourages him, that flare becomes brighter, and Caleb moans dazedly, cock throbbing behind the placket of his trousers.
Sweet boy, Yussa sighs again in a perfectly reconstructed echo in his own mind, and Caleb shudders as he licks gently at his folds. Being called such a thing by this man, in praise for this act, is...what it does for him probably isn't something he can name or quantify, especially now. But those words touch something essential in him that has not been handled in a long time. It is embarrassing. It is exhilarating. He would do anything to hear it again. So he gets to work.
Each swipe of his tongue goes deeper; each time he coaxes Yussa's entrance open further, parts his fluttering walls and gives him the kind of penetration he was grinding himself against his face to find. Caleb listens to Yussa's breathing, his Elven cursing, feels the stretching-seeking movements of his body, and when he judges it to be most effectual, dips his tongue deep into the pulsing heat of his core. He shifts a hand, curling his arm around and over a slender thigh, so he can thumb at his clit, so he doesn't have to stop fucking his tongue in and out of Yussa's body.