Caleb's shift is almost effortless and Yussa shudders as his mouth, wet and hot and perfect, closes around his aching clit. He whispers breathless praise and soon enough he can feel his lover's clever fingers rubbing against his opening, spreading the wetness there. It's been months and he can't help the sigh that escapes him as a single finger presses into him. He takes it easily enough, but realizes Caleb may have been wise to use just one - a lover who is turning out to be more prudent than Yussa is at times.
That is what his body needs and wants, though: the firmer pressure of Caleb's finger inside him as slick walls bear down eagerly. His stomach goes taut and he drags at Caleb's head as his finger curls inside him, stroking against his inner walls rather than thrusting. Gods, but that is perfect. He works his hips in small thrusts, chasing the friction there. Small as the movement is, it still ensures that he is grinding into Caleb's mouth as well.
Caleb's expertise and patience pays off: once he starts that steady stroking, and as his lips and tongue work him just as intently, Yussa feels himself rapidly hitting a new crest of pleasure. Like a wave, it crashes - harder than he thought it would so close on the heels of the first. Yussa comes in another cascade of muscle tremors, panting heavily, though he doesn't cry out this time. But surely Caleb will not mistake the sudden lack of vocal input for a lack of pleasure as Yussa clutches his head and his arm as he rides out the intensity of it.
Yussa slumps back against the couch as clenched muscles go loose. Where he had been pulling Caleb against him, now he gently nudges his head away while he still has any strength in his grip. Even so, he makes no attempt to move his legs, keeping them over Caleb's shoulders.
Gods, giving Yussa what he needs feels so good. Caleb has always loved giving pleasure, but dedicating himself entirely to Yussa this way, seeing the effect he has and earning his praise, is a satisfaction all its own. He gets lost in Yussa's demands, the way he holds his head to fuck his mouth, and his awareness of everything but Yussa is muted and dulled.
As he persists with decadent suction, swirls of tongue, and the deep, firm strokes of his finger, it doesn't take long to bring Yussa to the second peak he's been striving for. He feels it in the twitching tightening of his walls first, and then the tremor seems to break over the rest of his body, making him arch and shake. It feels intense, so much that it robs Yussa of his voice. Dedicated, Caleb licks more delicately over his clit and massages his cunt steadily as Yussa clings to him and comes.
He slows as the tension seeps from the other man's taut form until he is drained, his weary body sinking back into the couch. Caleb's head is pushed weakly away, so he nuzzles against Yussa's inner thigh instead, the slickness around his mouth smearing against soft brown skin. His finger doesn't withdraw, but goes still where it is buried inside him as Yussa continues to tiredly pulse around it.
Caleb's eyes slide open again, pupils blown dark and wide, but he looks up without expectation, flushed and disheveled and pleased with what he's accomplished.
Yussa's fingers rub lazily against Caleb's scalp as the younger man eases back enough to nuzzle against his thigh. He opens his eyes to drink in the sight of Caleb between his legs, blue eyes dark with need and yet utterly without demand. His mouth is red and slick with his efforts with further evidence of Yussa's pleasure down his chin.
"How handsome you are," he murmurs, soft and content. His fingers slip from Caleb's hair to brush across his cheek in an affectionate gesture. "Very impressive, Caleb Widogast. I think you have earned relief."
His fingers drift to gently tip Caleb's chin before he drops his hand away. Yussa still feels heavy and boneless in his afterglow, and he is not entirely sure that he is ready to rush into another round, but he at least wants Caleb to know that there is an end in sight for his own ignored arousal.
Warmth floods him again, separate from but also linked to his arousal, as Yussa looks him over and calls him handsome, impressive, tracing his fingers tenderly over his cheek. That he has earned relief--oh, that is a sweet prospect. It means he's done well. To receive pleasure because Yussa has decided he's worked hard enough for it renders quiet the part of him that might otherwise protest that he is undeserving.
He is more aware of the ache between his legs now than he has been all evening. Still, he finds that he is not impatient. Even as he realizes how desperately he wants touch, wants release, he doesn't want it more than he wants Yussa's approval. He would go without tonight, he realizes, if Yussa decided he should. In the pleasant, dreamy haze that's encompassed his mind, it makes perfect sense.
Sitting back on his heels, he slowly slips his finger free, though he misses the sensation of lazily fluttering wet heat immediately. Caleb lifts his head and straightens his spine, careful not to dislodge Yussa's legs from his shoulders if they are comfortable there. His knees are spread where they are planted on the floor, and in his lap the bulge of his erection beneath his trousers could not be more obscenely obvious. His skin is hot beneath his clothes. Sweat beads at the small of his back and the nape of his neck, dampening the tangled hair Yussa has been playing with. The sheen of Yussa's pleasure making his lips shine red and wet dampens his beard as well. Even fully dressed, he makes a sordid picture.
"I am happy to know I have pleased you," he answers honestly. The sound of his own voice, warm and rasping, almost surprises him. He hasn't spoken since he went to his knees. There were better uses for his mouth. "If you think it is earned, then I--I would be very grateful."
Yussa keeps his gaze on Caleb as the younger man sits up more, though he's careful not to jostle Yussa's legs too much - an impressive effort. The way that Caleb seems to glow under the praise includes Yussa to offer it more, though he will not be too loose with it, lest it seem unearned.
His hand moves, making the somatic gesture as he speaks the words for Prestidigitation - just to clean Caleb's face a bit. It does nothing for the younger man's flushed face or how used he looks, and Yussa is content to leave it at that.
"You have, thoroughly," he says to Caleb's rasping answering. Gods, the husk of his voice is irresistible. "What should I reward such effort with, I wonder?"
Yussa takes a moment more to admire the younger man, then gives him a gentle nudge with his thigh.
"First, undress. There's no need for you to sweat through your clothes." The terrace has a lovely breeze coming through, but Caleb has done plenty to get overheated. Yussa moves his legs so that he can sit up and set Caleb free. He allows the other man to resume undressing before he speaks again. His golden eyes are dark with intent and a small smirk plays on his mouth as he asks:
Though Caleb is utterly weak to praise, Yussa correctly identifies that it should not be given excessively. There is a fine line; it has to feel earned, or it's no good. Hence the reason this scenario appeals to him so much.
Face magically cleaned and instructed in no uncertain terms to undress, Caleb braces a hand against the couch, leveraging himself to his feet as soon as Yussa's legs slip from his shoulders. His knees complain, but that is a small price to pay for the contentment he'd found there.
As Yussa playfully contemplates what reward he is willing to grant, Caleb obediently unbuckles his holster and slides the leather straps down his arms, setting his precious books aside on the table before he turns back to the other wizard. Pulling his simple shirt up over his head reveals a familiar lean torso Yussa is already familiar with, pale skin contrasted with freckles and dark red hair. He lets his shirt fall where it will, not nearly so concerned about his own garments as he had been with Yussa's.
Drawn to the archmage's golden eyes and coy smirk, Caleb is an open book; the heady stab of pure want he feels at Yussa's suggestion is plain on his face. Perhaps he might have anticipated it, but he didn't want to assume. With how hard he is, he would have been happy to accept any prize Yussa offered him. He swallows, tasting Yussa still, even after prestidigtation.
"Ja, very much," he husks. There is no denying that he had hoped for this, just maybe, since Yussa asked for his fingers; no pretending he hasn't been aching for it since learning how good it feels to be inside him months ago. "If that is what you want." Yussa is the one determining what he is worthy of.
Caleb doesn't take his eyes off him as he reaches for his belt, sliding the leather free of the buckle with smooth, precise movements. Deft fingers undo the buttons of his trousers one by one, and his breath leaves him in a soft hiss as much of the pressure on his cock is eased at last.
"I have wanted it for months," he says with a warm smile. This may be a reward for Caleb, but Yussa intends to enjoy it too. He admires Caleb as he undresses, noting the small changes in his physique since the last time he had this view. Feeling more steady, Yussa rises to his feet with as much grace as he can muster. He brushes back his pale hair and makes his way over to a chaise, which affords them more options in terms or how they position themselves.
He pauses near Caleb, leaning up to give him a kiss at the corner of his mouth.
"You'll need to work me open," he says as he pulls away, somehow commanding the space just as effectively as he would while draped in his elaborate robes. "You may position me as you like, since you'll need to do the work."
Yussa voices Caleb's own thoughts, and he can't resist returning his smile as he tugs his boots off. Gods, it makes him giddy to think of Yussa spending all this time wanting him, too. He's halfway through pulling his trousers down when he gets distracted by Yussa, confident and bare--and then further distracted as he stops to kiss him. His breath catches softly, and his heart leaps in his chest.
"That is very okay," he assures, raising both brows for emphasis. "I am glad to put in the effort."
He gets his trousers off, finally, then his smalls. When he is as bare as Yussa, he joins him on the chaise. After pressing a kiss to his temple, nosing at his pale curls, he settles back, claiming a space for himself reclined comfortably against the raised back. His cock is heavy, wet at the tip, and darkly flushed between his long legs, extended in front of him to stretch muscles made tight by kneeling. Beside him, he has left plenty of room for Yussa, and he holds an arm out as though he means for him to curl up against his side.
Yussa tips his head into the gentle affection - something else he's missed. He waits for Caleb to settle, then moves to join him. He stretches along the younger man's side, relaxing there in the crook of his arm. He reaches up to turn Caleb's head toward him to get a full kiss, indulging them both. Caleb has earned that, too, and Yussa likes kissing him.
He can still taste himself on Caleb's tongue.
"I am glad your friends have not felt the need to come looking for you," he murmurs as they part. "I would like to keep you as long as I am able." For tonight, and longer. But he knows that Caleb may not be able to linger in Nicodranas. Yussa is sure the Nein discussed future plans while he was in the room with them, but he wasn't quite paying attention.
Not with Caleb there, as ever taking Yussa's attention from the moment he enters a room.
Yussa is warm and soft against his side, and Caleb curls his arm around him to draw him closer as soon as he relaxes. His head tilts with Yussa's guidance to meet him in a kiss, and he sighs happily against his lips as they settle together, against each other.
There is a low huff of a laugh in agreement as Yussa mentions how glad he is that his friends haven't taken an interest in his whereabouts yet, but then his stomach flips pleasantly when he asserts that he'd like to keep him. Gods, if only. As thoughts of tomorrow threaten to pierce the hazy veil of blissful obedience Yussa has draped over his mind, he only wants to sink deeper.
"I would like to be kept," he murmurs. His hand grips the slim curve of Yussa's hip; the other squeezes gently where it rests on his thigh. "Though I cannot promise how long it will be, all the time I have tonight is yours."
As Caleb leans down for another kiss, his calloused palm rubs up along the inside of Yussa's thigh, working toward the heat of his folds. He marvels at the smoothness of his skin, and as his mouth trails more beard-rough kisses down the elegant slope of his neck, he is quietly intrigued by how his long fingers and squarish human-sized hands look splayed over the elven wizard's slender form.
He doesn't want to burst the pleasant bubble they've made for themselves tonight. Yussa will keep Caleb as long as he can this evening, and there will hopefully be opportunities for more of this in the future. There are still plenty of reasons for Caleb to return to Nicodranas, and one of the easiest ways to do so is through Yussa's tower.
He closes his eyes as they kiss, sinking into the pleasant feeling as Caleb's warm hands slide over his hip and his thigh. He moves, turning more toward Caleb as his fingers tease further between his thighs, finding the wetness there as his lips trail down Yussa's neck. He reaches to stroke his fingers through his lover's hair, brushing it back from his face.
Yussa nuzzles against Caleb's temple and his fingers return to the human wizard's beard. "This wasn't quite so long the last I saw you," he remarks. "It's not quite so rough as the stubble."
Caleb smiles, pausing in his current task to tilt his face into Yussa's hands, encouraging his exploration with a warm hum.
"It is cold in Eiselcross, so I let it grow out." He nuzzles more deliberately against Yussa's fingers so he'll feel the gentle prickle of his beard against his palms, much softer than the scrape of shorter stubble, as he observes. Curious, Caleb wonders, "Is this new for you?"
That surprises him, given Yussa's age and his own certainty that he must have had plenty of handsome men clamoring to share his bed over the years. While elves may not be predisposed to facial hair--or much excess hair in general--plenty of other peoples are. Caleb finds he's rather glad currently that humans are included in that number; it pleases him to be able to give Yussa an experience he hasn't had before.
Caleb has been tracing lightly over Yussa's folds as they trade soft words and softer kisses. Now he parts them with a crook of his knuckles, wetting his fingers with his lover's arousal as he strokes along his slit. He is still so wet, so hot to the touch--Caleb is dizzy with the imagining (the memory) of that sensation in a tight squeeze around his cock.
Caleb presses that first finger back inside him with ease, and teases a second at his dripping entrance right away, circling and rubbing against his opening as the first strokes his walls. When Yussa asks for more, he'll get it.
"Impressively... yes," he answers, amused and indulgent as Caleb turns his head toward his touch. "My partners either couldn't grow beards or remained clean-shaven."
It's nice to know that he can still find novelty at his age. Yussa shifts subtly as Caleb strokes along his slit, parting wet folds with his fingers and knuckles as he gathers some of the copious wetness there. It's easy enough to keep the conversation going, at least on Yussa's end. He is very aware of Caleb's hard cock and the faint sheen of precome that's smeared on his skin where the flushed head has brushed against his stomach.
There's only a soft catch in his breath as the first finger slides back into him without any resistance. Yussa kisses Caleb again and his manicured nails drag against Caleb's beard when he feels the second finger teasing and rubbing against him. Yussa tips his hips, trying to encourage the extra penetration. After two orgasms so close together, he's sure he can manage it.
"Go on," he murmurs when they part, just in case Caleb needs the extra affirmation. He wants to feel the stretch, to know that he is that much closer to having Caleb's cock again after months of passing memories.
Caleb needs no further confirmation. He adds that second finger to the first and presses them in together. Though he feels the expected resistance of Yussa's cunt stretching around a larger intrusion, he also finds that he doesn't have to go quite as slowly as he expected. Yussa is very ready for this step. Caleb rocks his fingers in and out, firm and attentive, coaxing the tightness of Yussa's body to yield for him.
He likes very much the way Yussa scratches through his beard as they kiss, so he encourages it with soft noises lost against Yussa's lips. The first time they were together, he was taken by the way Yussa kisses him, and that has not changed. It feels like Yussa is seeking something from him with every kiss, and Caleb is happy to give and give, his mouth already sensitive and well used. He sweeps his tongue past Yussa's lips as his fingers slot deep into his cunt; he curls them up as he drags them out again, and pulls back for a sharp breath.
"You feel good," he whispers hoarsely, close enough still to feel Yussa's breath on his lips. "I thought of this often. I hoped that I was not the only one."
Gods, it feels like it has been longer than a few months. He has changed in that time. How is it that he can stagnate for decades and then change enough for a lifetime in a single year? The man he was when they first fucked was a far cry from who he was when they met, and he has grown more still since then. He wonders what Yussa sees when he looks at him. He wonders what it is about Caleb Widogast that intrigues him.
Yussa makes a quiet sound as two fingers press into him, gently coaxing his body to yield to the thicker penetration. It doesn't take much in this relaxed state, but he can still feel it. He stays close, enjoying being cradled against Caleb's side as they kiss. He likes the way Caleb's tongue fills his mouth, the tenderness and intensity in every kiss. His cunt squeezes around the younger man's fingers as they drag back, then push deep again.
When they part, Yussa's breath comes quicker as the slow caresses coax him deeper into arousal. A smile appears and he gives Caleb a lighter kiss.
"No, you were not alone in indulging those memories." It does feel like it has been much longer, even for Yussa. He kisses Caleb again, and again, catching his bottom lip in a gentle bite and suck on his lower lip.
"You have grown since then," he murmurs. "And much more since the day we met. I am gratified to see the potential I saw then come to bear."
That Yussa's thoughts have strayed in a similar direction to his own makes Caleb flush for reasons beyond sex or arousal. That the archmage has spared the time to consider his growth over the past year, his potential, is somehow unexpected, and just as flattering as the idea that he's indulged in memories of their first encounter like this.
"Well," Caleb murmurs, somehow bashful as he continues to stretch Yussa on his fingers, "you have had a part in that yourself."
He becomes very aware of how sore his lips are when he smiles. It's an ache that goes straight to his cock. Yussa's sharper kisses have left his already used mouth raw and stinging, and he can't get enough of it.
Holding Yussa against him this way feels good; exciting, and somehow comforting. The almost casual skinship is an intimacy he hadn't dared the last time, but it is remarkably natural now. Their bodies fit together well, they can easily talk and kiss, and Caleb can indulgently watch his fingers sliding slickly in and out of his cunt. The warm flickering lanternlight and the view of the city and the sea far below lend the space an almost surreal quality, adding to the pleasant haze already enveloping his mind.
After making him come twice, Yussa's state of languid relaxation is not only attractive, but heady, knowing that he is responsible. Encouraged by his soft sounds of pleasure and the occasional squeeze of his cunt, Caleb doesn't wait long to start working a third finger into him. Though he took two more easily than Caleb had anticipated, he can feel right away how the addition of a third is a challenge. Yussa is a petite man, and the way his entrance slowly stretches around three of Caleb's long human-sized fingers looks thrillingly obscene.
"I am pleased to have contributed," he says with a flicker of a smile. He is quite sincere in that matter - if he's had even a slight hand in encouraging and shaping Caleb's talents, then the younger wizard's achievements reflect well on him.
Yussa shifts, trying to adjust his position to spread his legs more without interrupting Caleb's fingers as they stroke into him, and without sacrificing the comfort of their embrace. But he also wants to at least attempt to make it easier for Caleb to ease a third finger into him, knowing he will need it before taking his lover's cock. Pale lashes flutter as his body yields to the penetration, but he feels the stretch.
He wets his lips, and for a moment all he can do is breathe as Caleb coaxes him to relax further. He tips his head toward Caleb, nuzzling against him as the slide of his lover's fingers becomes easier. Caleb's hands are strong and dexterous, and Yussa finds himself quite enamored with how well he can use them. It should be expected in a wizard... though Yussa has found that is not always the rule.
"Ah--" His breath hiccups when Caleb's fingers move just so. He feels a blush warming his face and he is very aware of how it must look as Caleb works him open. Yussa coaxes Caleb into another kiss, edged with heat this time as his fingers push deep. He breaks it a moment later, just enough to speak.
Caleb finds himself with his nose in Yussa's hair as the other man nuzzles against him. Whatever he washes with has a lovely subtle botanical smell. He'll remember that, should he ever have Yussa as a guest in his own home.
The gradual yielding as his body accepts Caleb's fingers seems to renew Yussa's desire, the comfortable plateau of arousal post-orgasm finally spiking again. Caleb kisses him eagerly. The difference between this and the lazy making out they've been doing is palpable--and promising. Pride fills his chest with warmth. Though he has only been doing as asked, it pleases him to see clear evidence that Yussa is enjoying this. Enjoying him.
The burn of his own need has faded and flared intermittently, depending on his own focus. When Yussa speaks, the throb of his neglected erection against his thigh makes Caleb more aware of himself, of how he craves fulfillment, than he's been since this started.
"Gods, please," he whispers, choked.
He wants to roll fully onto his back and offer himself again like a tool to be used for precisely that purpose. He wants to feel the slick, tight channel squeezing around his slowly rocking fingers envelop his aching cock. The mere thought is almost too much. He's never been able to come untouched, but he is fairly certain that it won't take much to have him spilling over tonight. Which just isn't acceptable at all. There must be some preventative measure to take.
"Do you have some way to, ah...keep me going until you are satisfied?" His face is hot with a unique combination of embarrassment and arousal, but asking is far preferable to disappointing his lover with a lack of stamina. Yussa must understand, surely. He's been hard with barely a touch for some time tonight, which would be challenging even for a man who has sex far more often than Caleb. An idea flashes suddenly into his mind, and tumbles straight out from his lips. "My--my hair tie, perhaps--"
Secured firmly enough around the base of his cock, the strip of leather he uses to pull his hair back would serve that purpose. If only he knew where it disappeared to after Yussa slid it loose.
Caleb's voice brings a smile to life, hearing him barely choke out a whisper for how aroused he is. Even more impressive is his offer - his request. He tips Caleb's head for another kiss, firm and offering a bit of reassurance or approval.
"I think I can manage something," he murmurs, accent heavy. He gives Caleb another kiss, then reluctantly reaches down to gently push his lover's fingers out of him. He has no idea where Caleb's hair tie has gone, but that's not the only possibility at their disposal.
Once he's free, Yussa gets up on unsteady legs. Once he has his balance, Yussa moves with the same effortless grace and authority he carries when he is fully dressed. He goes to his clothes, all neatly set aside where Caleb left them. Nimble fingers explore the pile of fabric until he finds what he wants. He returns with a strip of gold fabric - a small piece used to secure one layer to another to ensure there is no sliding or slipping. It is maybe six or seven inches long.
"Stay still," he says as he returns and sits on the chaise. "A leather thong would be acceptable, but I think this is better."
And because it is too tempting to resist, Yussa gives Caleb a single stroke, just to feel the firm heat of him, before he sets to wrapping the base of his cock. His gaze flicks back up to the younger man.
"Tell me when it's tight enough." He's unyielding in that command, though still gentle in its delivery. He goes by Caleb's word, using some of his own experience to supplement. Then he ties the fabric, satisfied that it will serve its purpose. With that accomplished, his hand slips lower to gently hold and caress Caleb's balls. It's only a moment of indulgence before he lets go again.
Yussa moves to straddle Caleb's lap, golden eyes intent.
"I'll have to keep this in mind on your next visit so I am properly prepared," he says with a smirk.
Caleb doesn't miss Yussa's distinct interest in his suggestion, even layered beneath the kindness he shows. If he likes the idea of controlling when Caleb can come, then all the better. He lays back against the chaise as Yussa rises to find something suitable, and is surprised when he shows him a piece of his own outfit, surely too fine to be used for this purpose. But Caleb isn't about to argue. Most thoughts flee his head completely, in fact, when Yussa reaches for his cock.
Though he pumps his fist up his length only once, indulgently, Caleb's hands scrabble at the velvety surface of the chaise and his head falls back, a groan wrenched from his exposed throat. He's glad he'd had the foresight to know how wrecked he would be by even a little touch. From the way his cock throbs as Yussa goes on to tie the gold fabric around the base, it's plain that much more of that attention would have taken him apart completely.
Breathlessly, he speaks up when the fabric pinches just tight enough to feel prohibitive, but not uncomfortable. Not beyond the ache of sustained arousal, at least, which he feels in built-up tension from his abs all the way down to his thighs. Yussa's teasing rub over his balls, already tight and sore, brings a sharp awareness to that heavy, sweetly pulsing pain. He doesn't quite bite back a harsh hiss of air through his teeth. By the time Yussa swings a leg over his lap, Caleb's breathing is ragged, his brow knit up over dazed blue eyes that rake with desperate hunger over his slender body.
"Ja, that is...that would be good," he agrees. His voice is a distant croak to his own ears as his focus is pulled so sharply to Yussa, lingering between his legs on his gorgeous dark folds and swollen clit, both glistening wetly. The nearness of that slick heat to his straining, blood-hot cock--growing fuller redder still with this new restriction--walks the line between tantalizing and torturous.
But he must be good. He must show Yussa he can wait patiently for his reward. Caleb's teeth scrape over his already swollen lower lip, and his hands find the other man's thighs, gripping restlessly but undemandingly at the warm, smooth skin. Caleb is pretty fucking sure he's had this dream before: Yussa perched over his lap, smirking at him just like this. Maybe a few times.
Caleb is the picture of need beneath him and it's a heady thing to know that this man is placing his relief, his pleasure, entirely in Yussa's hands. He moves slowly and presses a hand to Caleb's chest, where he leans his weight. The other reaches down, to guide his straining cock into him. There is no need to make him wait any longer, nor is there any need to deny himself this pleasure.
Yussa sinks down and he cannot quite help the sound in the back of his throat as Caleb fills him. His other hand joins the first on Caleb's chest for balance and support as he sinks down. He is wet and hot, slick with the excesses of his own arousal thanks to Caleb's skillful ministrations. Even if he feels a stretch, there is very little resistance to the penetration.
"Oh, gods--" His voice is tight and his thighs tremble until he has taken Caleb entirely: he can feel the wrapped fabric and knot against his cunt. For a moment he stays as he is, allowing himself to recover a bit from taking his lover all in one go. He whispers something else in Elvish and finally moves just to circle his hips, barely lifting up in favor of grinding against the man beneath him.
"Is that better?" he manages, attempting to sound far more together than he feels. "You feel as good as I remember, Caleb Widogast. Perhaps better, as it was only memory."
There, a smile flickers across his face. Yussa moves his hands from Caleb's chest in favor of bracing himself against the chaise. He trusts the strong hands gripping his thighs and his hip to keep him from losing his balance. He likes the way Caleb holds him, he has from the very beginning.
For all the anticipation, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to for Yussa to brace a hand against his chest, lift his hips, and guide Caleb into himself. The first breach into Yussa's warmth has him gasping. The older man doesn't wait, pushing down in a controlled drop, all one fluid motion. His thighs tremble under Caleb's hands until he's seated fully, having taken Caleb's cock inside him to the root.
As he takes a moment to adjust to his fullness, Caleb tries to scrape something of a coherent notion together, looking at Yussa with a kind of delirious reverence. When he circles his hips, grinding Caleb's heavy cock against the soft slickness of his walls, Caleb whimpers, the pleasure intense enough to make him shake.
He is breathing hard as Yussa murmurs to him, an almost benevolent condescension in his question and the warm, genuine praise that follows. It's absurdly hot, scattering Caleb's thoughts like ash in the wind. His hands tremble against Yussa's skin as they slide from his thighs up to the slight flare of his slim hips. Yussa is all he can think about; there is not enough space in his mind for anything else to break through when this man's presence is so all-encompassing. It's beyond anything he could have hoped for from tonight.
"Yussa," Caleb breathes, scrambling to produce an answer. He feels sluggish in the best way, molten heat filling his veins and coiling in his gut. "It's so good. Gods, you feel so good, I can't--please don't stop."
"You can," he murmurs, warm and affectionate. "For me, you can. You will."
He doesn't say it to be cruel, buy to motivate.
"Can you move?" It is a question of both logistics - is it possible in the position they find themselves or on this chaise - and of ability: if it is possible, is Caleb capable? Yussa isn't worried about the immediate present, but given his own body's reaction and the chance that he may come again before Caleb, it is the near future that concerns him. How long can he keep this up if Caleb decides he is intent on bringing him off again?
Yussa circles his hips again, giving them both the pleasure of slick friction and the flutter of tension without lifting up at all. Soon enough, he leans forward more and puts more weight on his arms. Thar allows him to lift his hips and sink down again without staying upright.
Yussa's immediate insistence--for me--pulls a gasp and a surprised shudder from Caleb. It's difficult to think or move or speak right now, to do anything other than feel, but Yussa has expectations of him that he needs to meet. He can't disappoint him.
"Ja," he says again, even if he isn't entirely certain how much or how well he can move. When Yussa grinds down on him again, Caleb does question for a moment how far sheer will and a desire to please can actually take him. The pulsing squeeze of his cunt feels painfully good, pulling pleasure from somewhere rooted deeply in his body. The friction when he raises and drops his hips is even more intense. Caleb moans, fingers splaying wide and then tightening their grip as a shock of sensation shoots along his spine. His hips buck up of their own accord, sharp and artless, but the seal is broken. His limbs aren't entirely useless. He can move.
With some effort, he raises his knees, the soles of his feet dragging against the soft chaise. The tension hasn't faded from his body at all; his cock jerks against the clinging walls of Yussa's cunt, and Caleb realizes, light-headed, that he might have come just then if it weren't for the makeshift ring choking off his cock. Gods.
"How do you--ah, how do you want me?" He manages to ask, the gravel in his voice palpable even when he speaks so softly.
All of the composure that Yussa has managed evaporates entirely when Caleb's hips lift beneath him. A soft, startled moan escapes and Yussa pushes down as hard as he can just to feel his lover grind up against his cunt.
The older wizard doesn't offer a real answer right away, too busy trying to chase that feeling: the knot he's tied in the makeshift cockring pushes against him, giving an extra sensation and firm bump for him to try to rub against. It isn't big. But it isn't nothing, either.
"Don't stop," he gasps out, voice heavier and more urgent now that he's felt that jolt of eager response. Slick walls tighten around the throbbing cock buried inside him and all Yussa can think for the moment is that he doesn't want that to stop. Perhaps it isn't the most helpful answer, but neither is it deeply vague.
Yussa leans into the chaise as he fucks himself like that, all while trying to keep the angle of his hips just so.
"Like this, sweet boy. Harder."
Even as he says it, one hand moves to tangle in Caleb's hair. Yussa holds tighter than he means to as he shifts over Caleb, soon making his next demand clearer: a firm nipple brushes Caleb's lips. He wants to he touched everywhere.
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That is what his body needs and wants, though: the firmer pressure of Caleb's finger inside him as slick walls bear down eagerly. His stomach goes taut and he drags at Caleb's head as his finger curls inside him, stroking against his inner walls rather than thrusting. Gods, but that is perfect. He works his hips in small thrusts, chasing the friction there. Small as the movement is, it still ensures that he is grinding into Caleb's mouth as well.
Caleb's expertise and patience pays off: once he starts that steady stroking, and as his lips and tongue work him just as intently, Yussa feels himself rapidly hitting a new crest of pleasure. Like a wave, it crashes - harder than he thought it would so close on the heels of the first. Yussa comes in another cascade of muscle tremors, panting heavily, though he doesn't cry out this time. But surely Caleb will not mistake the sudden lack of vocal input for a lack of pleasure as Yussa clutches his head and his arm as he rides out the intensity of it.
Yussa slumps back against the couch as clenched muscles go loose. Where he had been pulling Caleb against him, now he gently nudges his head away while he still has any strength in his grip. Even so, he makes no attempt to move his legs, keeping them over Caleb's shoulders.
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As he persists with decadent suction, swirls of tongue, and the deep, firm strokes of his finger, it doesn't take long to bring Yussa to the second peak he's been striving for. He feels it in the twitching tightening of his walls first, and then the tremor seems to break over the rest of his body, making him arch and shake. It feels intense, so much that it robs Yussa of his voice. Dedicated, Caleb licks more delicately over his clit and massages his cunt steadily as Yussa clings to him and comes.
He slows as the tension seeps from the other man's taut form until he is drained, his weary body sinking back into the couch. Caleb's head is pushed weakly away, so he nuzzles against Yussa's inner thigh instead, the slickness around his mouth smearing against soft brown skin. His finger doesn't withdraw, but goes still where it is buried inside him as Yussa continues to tiredly pulse around it.
Caleb's eyes slide open again, pupils blown dark and wide, but he looks up without expectation, flushed and disheveled and pleased with what he's accomplished.
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"How handsome you are," he murmurs, soft and content. His fingers slip from Caleb's hair to brush across his cheek in an affectionate gesture. "Very impressive, Caleb Widogast. I think you have earned relief."
His fingers drift to gently tip Caleb's chin before he drops his hand away. Yussa still feels heavy and boneless in his afterglow, and he is not entirely sure that he is ready to rush into another round, but he at least wants Caleb to know that there is an end in sight for his own ignored arousal.
"What do you think of that?"
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He is more aware of the ache between his legs now than he has been all evening. Still, he finds that he is not impatient. Even as he realizes how desperately he wants touch, wants release, he doesn't want it more than he wants Yussa's approval. He would go without tonight, he realizes, if Yussa decided he should. In the pleasant, dreamy haze that's encompassed his mind, it makes perfect sense.
Sitting back on his heels, he slowly slips his finger free, though he misses the sensation of lazily fluttering wet heat immediately. Caleb lifts his head and straightens his spine, careful not to dislodge Yussa's legs from his shoulders if they are comfortable there. His knees are spread where they are planted on the floor, and in his lap the bulge of his erection beneath his trousers could not be more obscenely obvious. His skin is hot beneath his clothes. Sweat beads at the small of his back and the nape of his neck, dampening the tangled hair Yussa has been playing with. The sheen of Yussa's pleasure making his lips shine red and wet dampens his beard as well. Even fully dressed, he makes a sordid picture.
"I am happy to know I have pleased you," he answers honestly. The sound of his own voice, warm and rasping, almost surprises him. He hasn't spoken since he went to his knees. There were better uses for his mouth. "If you think it is earned, then I--I would be very grateful."
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His hand moves, making the somatic gesture as he speaks the words for Prestidigitation - just to clean Caleb's face a bit. It does nothing for the younger man's flushed face or how used he looks, and Yussa is content to leave it at that.
"You have, thoroughly," he says to Caleb's rasping answering. Gods, the husk of his voice is irresistible. "What should I reward such effort with, I wonder?"
Yussa takes a moment more to admire the younger man, then gives him a gentle nudge with his thigh.
"First, undress. There's no need for you to sweat through your clothes." The terrace has a lovely breeze coming through, but Caleb has done plenty to get overheated. Yussa moves his legs so that he can sit up and set Caleb free. He allows the other man to resume undressing before he speaks again. His golden eyes are dark with intent and a small smirk plays on his mouth as he asks:
"Would you like to fuck me, Caleb Widogast?"
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Face magically cleaned and instructed in no uncertain terms to undress, Caleb braces a hand against the couch, leveraging himself to his feet as soon as Yussa's legs slip from his shoulders. His knees complain, but that is a small price to pay for the contentment he'd found there.
As Yussa playfully contemplates what reward he is willing to grant, Caleb obediently unbuckles his holster and slides the leather straps down his arms, setting his precious books aside on the table before he turns back to the other wizard. Pulling his simple shirt up over his head reveals a familiar lean torso Yussa is already familiar with, pale skin contrasted with freckles and dark red hair. He lets his shirt fall where it will, not nearly so concerned about his own garments as he had been with Yussa's.
Drawn to the archmage's golden eyes and coy smirk, Caleb is an open book; the heady stab of pure want he feels at Yussa's suggestion is plain on his face. Perhaps he might have anticipated it, but he didn't want to assume. With how hard he is, he would have been happy to accept any prize Yussa offered him. He swallows, tasting Yussa still, even after prestidigtation.
"Ja, very much," he husks. There is no denying that he had hoped for this, just maybe, since Yussa asked for his fingers; no pretending he hasn't been aching for it since learning how good it feels to be inside him months ago. "If that is what you want." Yussa is the one determining what he is worthy of.
Caleb doesn't take his eyes off him as he reaches for his belt, sliding the leather free of the buckle with smooth, precise movements. Deft fingers undo the buttons of his trousers one by one, and his breath leaves him in a soft hiss as much of the pressure on his cock is eased at last.
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He pauses near Caleb, leaning up to give him a kiss at the corner of his mouth.
"You'll need to work me open," he says as he pulls away, somehow commanding the space just as effectively as he would while draped in his elaborate robes. "You may position me as you like, since you'll need to do the work."
Yussa will add his input if he feels the need.
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"That is very okay," he assures, raising both brows for emphasis. "I am glad to put in the effort."
He gets his trousers off, finally, then his smalls. When he is as bare as Yussa, he joins him on the chaise. After pressing a kiss to his temple, nosing at his pale curls, he settles back, claiming a space for himself reclined comfortably against the raised back. His cock is heavy, wet at the tip, and darkly flushed between his long legs, extended in front of him to stretch muscles made tight by kneeling. Beside him, he has left plenty of room for Yussa, and he holds an arm out as though he means for him to curl up against his side.
"Why don't you join me here, for now?"
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He can still taste himself on Caleb's tongue.
"I am glad your friends have not felt the need to come looking for you," he murmurs as they part. "I would like to keep you as long as I am able." For tonight, and longer. But he knows that Caleb may not be able to linger in Nicodranas. Yussa is sure the Nein discussed future plans while he was in the room with them, but he wasn't quite paying attention.
Not with Caleb there, as ever taking Yussa's attention from the moment he enters a room.
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There is a low huff of a laugh in agreement as Yussa mentions how glad he is that his friends haven't taken an interest in his whereabouts yet, but then his stomach flips pleasantly when he asserts that he'd like to keep him. Gods, if only. As thoughts of tomorrow threaten to pierce the hazy veil of blissful obedience Yussa has draped over his mind, he only wants to sink deeper.
"I would like to be kept," he murmurs. His hand grips the slim curve of Yussa's hip; the other squeezes gently where it rests on his thigh. "Though I cannot promise how long it will be, all the time I have tonight is yours."
As Caleb leans down for another kiss, his calloused palm rubs up along the inside of Yussa's thigh, working toward the heat of his folds. He marvels at the smoothness of his skin, and as his mouth trails more beard-rough kisses down the elegant slope of his neck, he is quietly intrigued by how his long fingers and squarish human-sized hands look splayed over the elven wizard's slender form.
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He closes his eyes as they kiss, sinking into the pleasant feeling as Caleb's warm hands slide over his hip and his thigh. He moves, turning more toward Caleb as his fingers tease further between his thighs, finding the wetness there as his lips trail down Yussa's neck. He reaches to stroke his fingers through his lover's hair, brushing it back from his face.
Yussa nuzzles against Caleb's temple and his fingers return to the human wizard's beard. "This wasn't quite so long the last I saw you," he remarks. "It's not quite so rough as the stubble."
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"It is cold in Eiselcross, so I let it grow out." He nuzzles more deliberately against Yussa's fingers so he'll feel the gentle prickle of his beard against his palms, much softer than the scrape of shorter stubble, as he observes. Curious, Caleb wonders, "Is this new for you?"
That surprises him, given Yussa's age and his own certainty that he must have had plenty of handsome men clamoring to share his bed over the years. While elves may not be predisposed to facial hair--or much excess hair in general--plenty of other peoples are. Caleb finds he's rather glad currently that humans are included in that number; it pleases him to be able to give Yussa an experience he hasn't had before.
Caleb has been tracing lightly over Yussa's folds as they trade soft words and softer kisses. Now he parts them with a crook of his knuckles, wetting his fingers with his lover's arousal as he strokes along his slit. He is still so wet, so hot to the touch--Caleb is dizzy with the imagining (the memory) of that sensation in a tight squeeze around his cock.
Caleb presses that first finger back inside him with ease, and teases a second at his dripping entrance right away, circling and rubbing against his opening as the first strokes his walls. When Yussa asks for more, he'll get it.
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It's nice to know that he can still find novelty at his age. Yussa shifts subtly as Caleb strokes along his slit, parting wet folds with his fingers and knuckles as he gathers some of the copious wetness there. It's easy enough to keep the conversation going, at least on Yussa's end. He is very aware of Caleb's hard cock and the faint sheen of precome that's smeared on his skin where the flushed head has brushed against his stomach.
There's only a soft catch in his breath as the first finger slides back into him without any resistance. Yussa kisses Caleb again and his manicured nails drag against Caleb's beard when he feels the second finger teasing and rubbing against him. Yussa tips his hips, trying to encourage the extra penetration. After two orgasms so close together, he's sure he can manage it.
"Go on," he murmurs when they part, just in case Caleb needs the extra affirmation. He wants to feel the stretch, to know that he is that much closer to having Caleb's cock again after months of passing memories.
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He likes very much the way Yussa scratches through his beard as they kiss, so he encourages it with soft noises lost against Yussa's lips. The first time they were together, he was taken by the way Yussa kisses him, and that has not changed. It feels like Yussa is seeking something from him with every kiss, and Caleb is happy to give and give, his mouth already sensitive and well used. He sweeps his tongue past Yussa's lips as his fingers slot deep into his cunt; he curls them up as he drags them out again, and pulls back for a sharp breath.
"You feel good," he whispers hoarsely, close enough still to feel Yussa's breath on his lips. "I thought of this often. I hoped that I was not the only one."
Gods, it feels like it has been longer than a few months. He has changed in that time. How is it that he can stagnate for decades and then change enough for a lifetime in a single year? The man he was when they first fucked was a far cry from who he was when they met, and he has grown more still since then. He wonders what Yussa sees when he looks at him. He wonders what it is about Caleb Widogast that intrigues him.
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When they part, Yussa's breath comes quicker as the slow caresses coax him deeper into arousal. A smile appears and he gives Caleb a lighter kiss.
"No, you were not alone in indulging those memories." It does feel like it has been much longer, even for Yussa. He kisses Caleb again, and again, catching his bottom lip in a gentle bite and suck on his lower lip.
"You have grown since then," he murmurs. "And much more since the day we met. I am gratified to see the potential I saw then come to bear."
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"Well," Caleb murmurs, somehow bashful as he continues to stretch Yussa on his fingers, "you have had a part in that yourself."
He becomes very aware of how sore his lips are when he smiles. It's an ache that goes straight to his cock. Yussa's sharper kisses have left his already used mouth raw and stinging, and he can't get enough of it.
Holding Yussa against him this way feels good; exciting, and somehow comforting. The almost casual skinship is an intimacy he hadn't dared the last time, but it is remarkably natural now. Their bodies fit together well, they can easily talk and kiss, and Caleb can indulgently watch his fingers sliding slickly in and out of his cunt. The warm flickering lanternlight and the view of the city and the sea far below lend the space an almost surreal quality, adding to the pleasant haze already enveloping his mind.
After making him come twice, Yussa's state of languid relaxation is not only attractive, but heady, knowing that he is responsible. Encouraged by his soft sounds of pleasure and the occasional squeeze of his cunt, Caleb doesn't wait long to start working a third finger into him. Though he took two more easily than Caleb had anticipated, he can feel right away how the addition of a third is a challenge. Yussa is a petite man, and the way his entrance slowly stretches around three of Caleb's long human-sized fingers looks thrillingly obscene.
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Yussa shifts, trying to adjust his position to spread his legs more without interrupting Caleb's fingers as they stroke into him, and without sacrificing the comfort of their embrace. But he also wants to at least attempt to make it easier for Caleb to ease a third finger into him, knowing he will need it before taking his lover's cock. Pale lashes flutter as his body yields to the penetration, but he feels the stretch.
He wets his lips, and for a moment all he can do is breathe as Caleb coaxes him to relax further. He tips his head toward Caleb, nuzzling against him as the slide of his lover's fingers becomes easier. Caleb's hands are strong and dexterous, and Yussa finds himself quite enamored with how well he can use them. It should be expected in a wizard... though Yussa has found that is not always the rule.
"Ah--" His breath hiccups when Caleb's fingers move just so. He feels a blush warming his face and he is very aware of how it must look as Caleb works him open. Yussa coaxes Caleb into another kiss, edged with heat this time as his fingers push deep. He breaks it a moment later, just enough to speak.
"The next time I come, it will be on your cock."
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The gradual yielding as his body accepts Caleb's fingers seems to renew Yussa's desire, the comfortable plateau of arousal post-orgasm finally spiking again. Caleb kisses him eagerly. The difference between this and the lazy making out they've been doing is palpable--and promising. Pride fills his chest with warmth. Though he has only been doing as asked, it pleases him to see clear evidence that Yussa is enjoying this. Enjoying him.
The burn of his own need has faded and flared intermittently, depending on his own focus. When Yussa speaks, the throb of his neglected erection against his thigh makes Caleb more aware of himself, of how he craves fulfillment, than he's been since this started.
"Gods, please," he whispers, choked.
He wants to roll fully onto his back and offer himself again like a tool to be used for precisely that purpose. He wants to feel the slick, tight channel squeezing around his slowly rocking fingers envelop his aching cock. The mere thought is almost too much. He's never been able to come untouched, but he is fairly certain that it won't take much to have him spilling over tonight. Which just isn't acceptable at all. There must be some preventative measure to take.
"Do you have some way to, ah...keep me going until you are satisfied?" His face is hot with a unique combination of embarrassment and arousal, but asking is far preferable to disappointing his lover with a lack of stamina. Yussa must understand, surely. He's been hard with barely a touch for some time tonight, which would be challenging even for a man who has sex far more often than Caleb. An idea flashes suddenly into his mind, and tumbles straight out from his lips. "My--my hair tie, perhaps--"
Secured firmly enough around the base of his cock, the strip of leather he uses to pull his hair back would serve that purpose. If only he knew where it disappeared to after Yussa slid it loose.
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"I think I can manage something," he murmurs, accent heavy. He gives Caleb another kiss, then reluctantly reaches down to gently push his lover's fingers out of him. He has no idea where Caleb's hair tie has gone, but that's not the only possibility at their disposal.
Once he's free, Yussa gets up on unsteady legs. Once he has his balance, Yussa moves with the same effortless grace and authority he carries when he is fully dressed. He goes to his clothes, all neatly set aside where Caleb left them. Nimble fingers explore the pile of fabric until he finds what he wants. He returns with a strip of gold fabric - a small piece used to secure one layer to another to ensure there is no sliding or slipping. It is maybe six or seven inches long.
"Stay still," he says as he returns and sits on the chaise. "A leather thong would be acceptable, but I think this is better."
And because it is too tempting to resist, Yussa gives Caleb a single stroke, just to feel the firm heat of him, before he sets to wrapping the base of his cock. His gaze flicks back up to the younger man.
"Tell me when it's tight enough." He's unyielding in that command, though still gentle in its delivery. He goes by Caleb's word, using some of his own experience to supplement. Then he ties the fabric, satisfied that it will serve its purpose. With that accomplished, his hand slips lower to gently hold and caress Caleb's balls. It's only a moment of indulgence before he lets go again.
Yussa moves to straddle Caleb's lap, golden eyes intent.
"I'll have to keep this in mind on your next visit so I am properly prepared," he says with a smirk.
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Though he pumps his fist up his length only once, indulgently, Caleb's hands scrabble at the velvety surface of the chaise and his head falls back, a groan wrenched from his exposed throat. He's glad he'd had the foresight to know how wrecked he would be by even a little touch. From the way his cock throbs as Yussa goes on to tie the gold fabric around the base, it's plain that much more of that attention would have taken him apart completely.
Breathlessly, he speaks up when the fabric pinches just tight enough to feel prohibitive, but not uncomfortable. Not beyond the ache of sustained arousal, at least, which he feels in built-up tension from his abs all the way down to his thighs. Yussa's teasing rub over his balls, already tight and sore, brings a sharp awareness to that heavy, sweetly pulsing pain. He doesn't quite bite back a harsh hiss of air through his teeth. By the time Yussa swings a leg over his lap, Caleb's breathing is ragged, his brow knit up over dazed blue eyes that rake with desperate hunger over his slender body.
"Ja, that is...that would be good," he agrees. His voice is a distant croak to his own ears as his focus is pulled so sharply to Yussa, lingering between his legs on his gorgeous dark folds and swollen clit, both glistening wetly. The nearness of that slick heat to his straining, blood-hot cock--growing fuller redder still with this new restriction--walks the line between tantalizing and torturous.
But he must be good. He must show Yussa he can wait patiently for his reward. Caleb's teeth scrape over his already swollen lower lip, and his hands find the other man's thighs, gripping restlessly but undemandingly at the warm, smooth skin. Caleb is pretty fucking sure he's had this dream before: Yussa perched over his lap, smirking at him just like this. Maybe a few times.
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Yussa sinks down and he cannot quite help the sound in the back of his throat as Caleb fills him. His other hand joins the first on Caleb's chest for balance and support as he sinks down. He is wet and hot, slick with the excesses of his own arousal thanks to Caleb's skillful ministrations. Even if he feels a stretch, there is very little resistance to the penetration.
"Oh, gods--" His voice is tight and his thighs tremble until he has taken Caleb entirely: he can feel the wrapped fabric and knot against his cunt. For a moment he stays as he is, allowing himself to recover a bit from taking his lover all in one go. He whispers something else in Elvish and finally moves just to circle his hips, barely lifting up in favor of grinding against the man beneath him.
"Is that better?" he manages, attempting to sound far more together than he feels. "You feel as good as I remember, Caleb Widogast. Perhaps better, as it was only memory."
There, a smile flickers across his face. Yussa moves his hands from Caleb's chest in favor of bracing himself against the chaise. He trusts the strong hands gripping his thighs and his hip to keep him from losing his balance. He likes the way Caleb holds him, he has from the very beginning.
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As he takes a moment to adjust to his fullness, Caleb tries to scrape something of a coherent notion together, looking at Yussa with a kind of delirious reverence. When he circles his hips, grinding Caleb's heavy cock against the soft slickness of his walls, Caleb whimpers, the pleasure intense enough to make him shake.
He is breathing hard as Yussa murmurs to him, an almost benevolent condescension in his question and the warm, genuine praise that follows. It's absurdly hot, scattering Caleb's thoughts like ash in the wind. His hands tremble against Yussa's skin as they slide from his thighs up to the slight flare of his slim hips. Yussa is all he can think about; there is not enough space in his mind for anything else to break through when this man's presence is so all-encompassing. It's beyond anything he could have hoped for from tonight.
"Yussa," Caleb breathes, scrambling to produce an answer. He feels sluggish in the best way, molten heat filling his veins and coiling in his gut. "It's so good. Gods, you feel so good, I can't--please don't stop."
That's his best, at the moment.
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He doesn't say it to be cruel, buy to motivate.
"Can you move?" It is a question of both logistics - is it possible in the position they find themselves or on this chaise - and of ability: if it is possible, is Caleb capable? Yussa isn't worried about the immediate present, but given his own body's reaction and the chance that he may come again before Caleb, it is the near future that concerns him. How long can he keep this up if Caleb decides he is intent on bringing him off again?
Yussa circles his hips again, giving them both the pleasure of slick friction and the flutter of tension without lifting up at all. Soon enough, he leans forward more and puts more weight on his arms. Thar allows him to lift his hips and sink down again without staying upright.
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"Ja," he says again, even if he isn't entirely certain how much or how well he can move. When Yussa grinds down on him again, Caleb does question for a moment how far sheer will and a desire to please can actually take him. The pulsing squeeze of his cunt feels painfully good, pulling pleasure from somewhere rooted deeply in his body. The friction when he raises and drops his hips is even more intense. Caleb moans, fingers splaying wide and then tightening their grip as a shock of sensation shoots along his spine. His hips buck up of their own accord, sharp and artless, but the seal is broken. His limbs aren't entirely useless. He can move.
With some effort, he raises his knees, the soles of his feet dragging against the soft chaise. The tension hasn't faded from his body at all; his cock jerks against the clinging walls of Yussa's cunt, and Caleb realizes, light-headed, that he might have come just then if it weren't for the makeshift ring choking off his cock. Gods.
"How do you--ah, how do you want me?" He manages to ask, the gravel in his voice palpable even when he speaks so softly.
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The older wizard doesn't offer a real answer right away, too busy trying to chase that feeling: the knot he's tied in the makeshift cockring pushes against him, giving an extra sensation and firm bump for him to try to rub against. It isn't big. But it isn't nothing, either.
"Don't stop," he gasps out, voice heavier and more urgent now that he's felt that jolt of eager response. Slick walls tighten around the throbbing cock buried inside him and all Yussa can think for the moment is that he doesn't want that to stop. Perhaps it isn't the most helpful answer, but neither is it deeply vague.
Yussa leans into the chaise as he fucks himself like that, all while trying to keep the angle of his hips just so.
"Like this, sweet boy. Harder."
Even as he says it, one hand moves to tangle in Caleb's hair. Yussa holds tighter than he means to as he shifts over Caleb, soon making his next demand clearer: a firm nipple brushes Caleb's lips. He wants to he touched everywhere.
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