Caleb's smile brightens when given permission, as though being allowed to help Yussa bathe is a more intimate and unexpected privilege than what they've already done together--what he has already claimed from this man. Liberties taken without asking may I? in exchange for the coin still glinting on the table near the door. And Yussa has been so receptive to all of it. Even his lethargy now feels like a reward.
Soap and washcloth in hand, Caleb begins to gently lather Yussa's skin, beginning at his shoulders. He's been admiring the intricate henna tattoos covering much of him for hours, but now he has the chance to really look at them in detail as he washes the evidence of sex from his lover's body. He traces the lines of ink with his fingers as he works his way down the front of his body, veering only to generously soap and indulgently grope Yussa's small, pert breasts, thumbing over a few light bruises in the distinct shape of his mouth.
Selfishly, he wants to slip a hand between Yussa's legs just to feel the lingering evidence of his unsatisfied arousal, his erect clit jutting from slick-soaked folds, and held within his body, the width of the glass plug keeping his well-fucked ass stretched wide for him. But that would be cruel when he still has no intention of making him come, so he refrains.
He kisses Yussa's brow first as his hands cover his body with purpose, but soon leans down to capture his lips in an almost chaste kiss. It's been a bit, and he has always loved kissing Yussa--and Yussa had admitted to him earlier tonight that he very much enjoys kissing, too. Why not indulge, then, in a little lazy making out while they wash?
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Soap and washcloth in hand, Caleb begins to gently lather Yussa's skin, beginning at his shoulders. He's been admiring the intricate henna tattoos covering much of him for hours, but now he has the chance to really look at them in detail as he washes the evidence of sex from his lover's body. He traces the lines of ink with his fingers as he works his way down the front of his body, veering only to generously soap and indulgently grope Yussa's small, pert breasts, thumbing over a few light bruises in the distinct shape of his mouth.
Selfishly, he wants to slip a hand between Yussa's legs just to feel the lingering evidence of his unsatisfied arousal, his erect clit jutting from slick-soaked folds, and held within his body, the width of the glass plug keeping his well-fucked ass stretched wide for him. But that would be cruel when he still has no intention of making him come, so he refrains.
He kisses Yussa's brow first as his hands cover his body with purpose, but soon leans down to capture his lips in an almost chaste kiss. It's been a bit, and he has always loved kissing Yussa--and Yussa had admitted to him earlier tonight that he very much enjoys kissing, too. Why not indulge, then, in a little lazy making out while they wash?