His breath is shallow in his chest as he watches Yussa follow his instructions, his brown skin flushed as he spreads his beautifully inked thighs for Caleb to see just how wet he is. Gods. Caleb wastes no time--he couldn't stay away if he tried. He rolls up onto his knees and crowds between the other man's splayed legs, pushing them further apart.
"Perfect. You are absolutely perfect," he husks, utterly captured by the vision laid out beneath him.
He slides a hand beneath one of Yussa's knees, pulling it up toward his own shoulder and angling it up and out to give him more space. His other hand goes to his own cock, stroking from base to tip as he guides the ruddy, leaking head to rub along his slit, gliding up and down through slick folds.
"Do you want this?" The tip glances over his entrance again and again, and Caleb watches himself throb in his hand. "You look like you are aching to be fucked."
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"Perfect. You are absolutely perfect," he husks, utterly captured by the vision laid out beneath him.
He slides a hand beneath one of Yussa's knees, pulling it up toward his own shoulder and angling it up and out to give him more space. His other hand goes to his own cock, stroking from base to tip as he guides the ruddy, leaking head to rub along his slit, gliding up and down through slick folds.
"Do you want this?" The tip glances over his entrance again and again, and Caleb watches himself throb in his hand. "You look like you are aching to be fucked."