Yussa learns to relax his mouth more when Caleb fucks up to meet him, as he urgently seeks his own pleasure with every thrust of his hips. He thinks of the number of times he's ridden this man's face, losing himself in his own pleasure because he knows that Caleb wants him to. That is a gift he can give now. The roles they have taken tonight make it easier.
He manages to control his position enough that he doesn't choke even when Caleb fucks into his throat, but it's a near thing. Even with his skill, it feels sloppy as Caleb grinds against his mouth, and with a lightheaded ache he realizes he's enjoying it. The sounds escaping the man beneath him urge him on, but he keeps in mind his task beyond Caleb's pleasure. Calloused fingers tighten in his hair, and it's the way Caleb tries to urge a faster pace that warns him.
Yussa pulls back, pushing against Caleb's grip if he needs to. He takes a deep, sharp breath as soon as his mouth is free and he peers up at the man sprawled in front of him, flushed and needy. Gods, it's always satisfying to know this is his work. He presses one hand to Caleb's hip, bracing his weight there, as the other grips gently but firmly near the base of his cock. Yussa's mouth is a mess of gold paint and wet with saliva. He lets go of Caleb's cock and lifts his hand, using his thumb to delicately sweep beneath his lower lip as if he might be able to put himself in order. There is no saving his hair, as the way Caleb has been holding onto him has mussed whatever he'd done to style it.
He doesn't say anything right away, allowing Caleb to recover himself after being worked so close to the edge. Yussa feels a throb of heat low in his body and he shits, resisting the urge to find some relief with his hand or against the bed. He is Caleb's, and Caleb will decide what comes next.
no subject
He manages to control his position enough that he doesn't choke even when Caleb fucks into his throat, but it's a near thing. Even with his skill, it feels sloppy as Caleb grinds against his mouth, and with a lightheaded ache he realizes he's enjoying it. The sounds escaping the man beneath him urge him on, but he keeps in mind his task beyond Caleb's pleasure. Calloused fingers tighten in his hair, and it's the way Caleb tries to urge a faster pace that warns him.
Yussa pulls back, pushing against Caleb's grip if he needs to. He takes a deep, sharp breath as soon as his mouth is free and he peers up at the man sprawled in front of him, flushed and needy. Gods, it's always satisfying to know this is his work. He presses one hand to Caleb's hip, bracing his weight there, as the other grips gently but firmly near the base of his cock. Yussa's mouth is a mess of gold paint and wet with saliva. He lets go of Caleb's cock and lifts his hand, using his thumb to delicately sweep beneath his lower lip as if he might be able to put himself in order. There is no saving his hair, as the way Caleb has been holding onto him has mussed whatever he'd done to style it.
He doesn't say anything right away, allowing Caleb to recover himself after being worked so close to the edge. Yussa feels a throb of heat low in his body and he shits, resisting the urge to find some relief with his hand or against the bed. He is Caleb's, and Caleb will decide what comes next.