Yussa lifts his head again to acknowledge the request to remove the rest of the other man's clothes. He eases back, reluctantly releasing Caleb's cock, and gets up so that he is in a better position to see to his trousers and smalls. Gold chains slide over his skin, triggering a wave of goosebumps - the metal is skin-warm, but it still feels like water as the chains move, teasing him with the light caress. He makes short work of Caleb's clothes, careful but efficient in removing the last of his layers. Yussa makes sure to put them on the bench with the rest of Caleb's clothes.
Less distracted, it's difficult to discount his own arousal, built up and now neglected. That's fine - he has no doubt Caleb will return to his cunt when he's ready. Yussa takes the opportunity to stretch, absently reaching above his head. It puts the lean lines and slight curves of his body on display before he returns his full attention to his patron.
He slinks back onto the bed and curls a hand around Caleb's straining cock to stroke it as he gets back into position. He doesn't hesitate then, guiding his patron back into his mouth so that he can bob down. Yussa doesn't take the full length of him on the first try, but he works up to it again. He has to keep his focus - he never likes setting up Caleb to fail and this is no different.
Yussa teases with his tongue and teeth, relaxing when it seems like Caleb wants to fuck into his mouth. He knows this fantasy gives Caleb leeway he might not take otherwise, the ability to do chase his own pleasure without getting caught up in ensuring Yussa's. He tries to respond fluidly to the younger man's needs and demands, all while bearing in mind that he is to stop before Caleb works himself up too much.
They work together to remove his last layers, and then Caleb settles further back on the bed as Yussa stretches, giving him more room to work. Today Yussa is showing himself off, accentuating his features with ink and jewelery, and Caleb can't possibly get his fill of looking at him.
Luckily, he can look all he wants. Which he does as Yussa joins him again, stroking the spit-slick length of him with a relaxed ease before bending to apply his mouth again. Caleb showers him with more husky praise in his own tongue, feeling his pulse jump as Yussa falls back into a rhythm, taking his cues from Caleb himself as his hips buck up. Despite his resolve to allow Yussa his freedom, pleasure makes his control slip, and he can't stop himself from rubbing the underside of his cock across his lover's tongue and fucking into his throat, hand cradling his head.
Everything about this is heady, almost illicitly so. It feels wrong to take so much for himself while giving nothing in return. Yet this encounter is designed to center his pleasure in a way that is like nothing they've done before. Part of him still balks at letting himself feel good. It longs for the comforting certainty of submission, reminding him that he should be the one serving, lavishing Yussa with attention. This is more than he deserves. But Yussa wants this; the client-provider dynamic is part of what he seeks from this fantasy, so to please him, Caleb must allow himself a little selfishness. That is how he must justify it in his mind, anyway.
The heavy, hot tension focused between his legs winds up as quickly as he expected. His thighs are spread wide now to accommodate Yussa between them, feet braced on the bed. Caleb whimpers and pants intermittently, grinding his cock without finesse against Yussa's gold-smeared lips and taking his pleasure with the tight slickness of his throat. His fingers wind into his hair, not pulling, but gripping with increasing urgency. His balls ache with how close he is.
He should stop. He should stop now while he can, but gods, it's so good. That was a task he entrusted to Yussa for a reason; now that he is there on the precipice, he has a hard time seeing why he would want to do anything but drop over it.
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.
When Yussa withdraws, Caleb lets him go without hesitation, releasing the grip on his hair so he can pull off his cock and put a hand to his hip, stopping the motion. His whine this time is lower and longer as the rise to his peak is rapidly cut short, completely choked off by sudden lack of sensation and the tight circle of Yussa's fingers gripping the base of his cock.
Gods, Yussa's face is a mess. It's ridiculously hot.
When Yussa is apparently certain that his impending orgasm has been sufficiently thwarted, he wipes beneath his swollen lower lip, which doesn't do much for the saliva covering his chin, but does make Caleb's cock give a heavy throb. He feels a little mad with want, and he reaches with some desperation to take Yussa's hand where it rests on his hip, trying to pull him closer.
"Come up here, schtaz, please," he urges in a rough whisper. What he wants most right now is to be closer, to kiss the mess of his mouth and taste traces of himself on his tongue. As soon as Yussa is close enough he does just that, hand curling around the back of his neck again to guide him in for a deep, searing kiss.
Yussa moves as Caleb urges him closer. He is careful with where he puts his knees as he climbs higher up the other man's body. For comfort, he straddle's Caleb's middle and leans down as a gentle but insistent hand pulls him down into a kiss. Yussa can't help the soft sigh that escapes him and he sinks down more, stretching his body along Caleb's as the other man's tongue sweeps into his mouth to taste himself there.
He can't resist a slight rock of his hips, a subtle grind against Caleb's stomach to take the edge off his own throbbing arousal. When they part, Yussa feels breathless and a little dazed. But he smiles and strokes his fingers along Caleb's cheek.
"I'm here," he murmurs sweetly. He likes knowing that he is the reason for that desperate grip and the urgency in the way Caleb touches and kisses him.
The kiss is everything he wanted, hard and messy and all-encompassing. The tension in his body has receded just enough to be manageable, but his need has only grown as a result of that requested denial. Feeling the slick heat of Yussa seeking some relief against his stomach only excites him more.
"You are incredible," he murmurs, still close enough brush Yussa's lips with his as he speaks. "This is more than earned."
There is no need for Yussa to rub off against him; Caleb is happy to slide his hand between them instead, fingers gliding with ease through his slippery folds. Yussa is noticeably more aroused than he was before, wet and hot to the touch. His fingertips glance over his swollen clit and rub down to find the silken heat of his entrance soft and yielding, though he doesn't yet press inside.
"Do you need my fingers still?" he husks, astonished and intrigued to learn how sucking him off has affected his companion. The proof that he genuinely enjoyed it is humbling. "Or could I fit my cock inside you? You feel plenty wet enough."
Yussa breathes in sharply when Caleb's fingers brush against him. He lifts his hips enough that Caleb has full access to him and he is rewarded with clever fingers stroking against him, testing him where he is hot and wet. He can't help the way his hips jump at the brief touch across his clit and Yussa bows his head as he resists the urge to rock his hips toward his patron's touch. The rubbing, exploring pressure against his entrance prompts a throb deep in him. He aches to feel more inside him and it takes some discipline to keep from trying to mount Caleb's fingers again.
It's been weeks since they've seen each other, long enough that Yussa need seriously consider that question. But he's also exponentially more aroused now than he was when Caleb fucked him with his fingers earlier.
"I think it would be a stretch," he confesses, as if having Caleb's cock in his mouth has made him reconsider his calculations. "But I will take what you give me... you have already seen that."
It isn't quite the same as letting Caleb fuck his mouth, but the willingness is there and Yussa thinks that is a fine precedent for the evening. The archmage can feel heat burn in his face as he recalls the way Caleb pawed at him earlier and the low rasp of his voice as he affirmed he would take everything Yussa has to offer tonight. Possibly multiple times. Just thinking of it encourages another little surge of wetness and Yussa rests the urge to try to squeeze his thighs together. Given the way he's straddling Caleb's torso, that isn't really an option for seeking relief.
"Do you wish to see me spread open? Stuffed full of you?" he murmurs, voice lower.
Caleb gives a low hum in agreement when Yussa points out that he's already been very accommodating. There is a shameful little thrill at his acknowledgement that it would still be a stretch to take him, but this is nothing new; Caleb discovered very quickly after they became intimate that their slight difference in size was unexpectedly intriguing to him.
"I do. For months now," he answers. His fingers stir slick circles over his entrance, and he can't resist curling two up and in. They slide deep with exhilarating ease, and his breath catches in his chest before he speaks again. "I have fucked my fist more times than I can recall wishing that it was your cunt. So forgive me if I am a little, ah--overly eager."
His lips brush Yussa's again briefly before diverting to his ear as his fingers stroke against the tight softness of his walls. His teeth catch the lobe lightly as he noses against the side of his neck. The perfume he has decided on today is different from any he usually wears, which is an interesting and thoughtful touch. It lends a touch of the unfamiliar to a body he knows very well, which makes this feel new.
"A stretch, still?" he murmurs, low and rough, hot breath over the shell of his lover's elegantly pointed ear.
His fingers tighten against Caleb's shoulder as the other man's fingers push into him with more ease than Yussa anticipated. The thought of Caleb getting himself off while dreaming of this for the last few weeks sends another jolt of excitement straight through him.
Yussa bows his head and rocks his hips back to meet the thrust of Caleb's fingers. His eyes are nearly closed as the other man's lips brush against his ear, teeth scraping the soft lobe. His cunt flutters around Caleb's fingers when his breath teases against his skin.
"A little," he breathes. In truth, his body is far more yielding than it was when Caleb arrived. "But nothing... uncomfortable."
If Caleb fucked him now, he would certainly feel it as more of a stretch, but given how aroused he is Yussa doesn't think it will actually be a hardship. There is nothing that makes him think it would pain him to do so. He hasn't exactly been idle in the last few weeks either.
"I must admit," he murmurs, lips near Caleb's cheek, "that I find your enthusiasm exciting."
It is one thing to be desired; it is another thing entirely to feel like a prize. Caleb, in all his preparation, is making it clear that is exactly what Yussa is to him tonight. Something he has earned for himself.
Yussa's verdict sounds to him like permission to go forward with what he wants. If it was likely to approach uncomfortable, he trusts that he would not encourage it, no matter what sort of games they are playing. The fluttering around his fingers is encouraging, too.
"I guessed as much," Caleb says with a grin, hidden against the perfumed skin behind Yussa's ear. "And I will admit that tonight has become...something beyond an ordinary goal for me. A bit of an obsession. But that is what you are due, I think. Any man who would treat you as less than extraordinary is a fool."
His fingers rock up and draw back in a shallow thrust, and he briefly considers adding a third, but decides against it. Greedily, he wants to feel Yussa take him just like this.
"If I want you on your back, will these be uncomfortable for you?" His free hand plucks at a gold chain draped over the modest flare of a slender hip, then slips beneath to feel the warm skin directly, self-indulgent.
"And you are not a fool." Yussa says it with warm approval and strokes his fingers along Caleb's cheek, feeling the rasp of the stubble that provides attractive shadowing to his face.
"No," he assures softly, his face warming more with all the question implies. "The metal is soft, the chains are fine... it won't be uncomfortable to lay on them. I will keep them on or remove them at your pleasure."
Yussa chose his things carefully, especially anything he might end up wearing for a long period of time. The chains he wears are exactly as he said: delicate enough not to hurt if he lays on them, strong enough that he is certain they won't break if they are put under any strain.
He leans down to give Caleb a firm kiss.
"You may have me how you want me, Caleb Widogast."
Caleb's heart skips in his chest, elated by this man's purring praise. They barely know one another (this version of them, anyway), yet Yussa's approval means so much. Though he is the one paying to be impressed, he wants to impress him in return. He wants to be remembered when Yussa is with other men in this bed. He wants the impression he makes to linger.
The embers of his denied orgasm smolder in his belly, easily stirred up again by Yussa's words and his confident kisses.
"Then I will have you on your back," Caleb whispers roughly between them. "With your legs spread and your knees over my shoulders. I hope you are flexible, schatz."
This last bit is said with a lopsided grin and a playful nip to Yussa's already swollen lower lip before he kisses him, tasting himself again on his lover's tongue and coaxing it into his own mouth. He does release him eventually, reluctantly, so that he can move and position himself in the way he's instructed.
"I want you to show me," he rasps, "what all of my hard work has earned." The rush of power he feels goes straight to his cock.
Even with all of his experience, Yussa's face burns with Caleb's instructions, but he isn't allowed to fulfill them just yet. Yussa's hand slides along the younger man's cheek as he's taken in another kiss. Caleb's tongue fills his mouth and he cannot help the whine that rises in his throat. He would keep kissing for hours, but Caleb does not have that kind of time.
Yussa takes a deeper breath when they apart and he feels another shiver of warmth with the assertion that Caleb has earned everything he takes tonight. He eases back on the bed, moving effortlessly until he's in a position he finds comfortable. Not so close to the headboard that he risks hitting it with any vigorous use, but close enough that he or Caleb could grab it should they choose to.
He lays back, golden gaze unwavering on Caleb as he spreads his thighs. His cunt is flushed and slick for the man who's given him so much attention. The henna on the back of his thighs seems to frame him even like this. Yussa lets his fingers tease over his entrance before spreading them, if only to show Caleb just how ready he is thanks to his hard work. He feels a throb of arousal in response to being looked at like this - it feels lewd, obscene, and he is enjoying every second of it.
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."
Yussa breathes in sharply as Caleb moves toward him, faster than he's expecting. His leg slides over Caleb's arm as the other man rubs his cock against his slit, teasing him with the heat of it. He's aching for it as much as Caleb is, of that he's certain, and every sliding stroke makes him want to move closer. He can't quite with the way he's pinned, not effectively. So instead, Yussa moves his fingers enough that they can brush over Caleb's cock, spreading his own slickness there.
"Yes," he answers, soft and breathless. He reminds himself of their game and whispers, "Please, Caleb. You left me feeling so empty."
He isn't inclined to beg, and though this is not the first time, he hopes it's rare enough to make it special. Yussa can feel the useless contraction of muscles inside him, his body seeking more as Caleb teases against his entrance.
It would be special even if it wasn't so rare. But because it is, the way Yussa says please, begging him for his cock, is absolutely irresistible. Any fortitude Caleb might have had to tease him a little longer fades in an instant. Yussa's wet fingers coat his length with his own slick as he rocks against him, and Caleb sucks in a harsh, sharp breath.
"Then I will fill you again," he murmurs, and puts force behind the next roll of his hips. He allows Yussa's fingers to line him up and watches as his entrance stretches around the thicker head of his cock. The slick walls and clenching muscle within pull him slowly deeper until the first inch disappears inside Yussa's cunt. It is all Caleb can do not to pound the rest in after it, not to lose himself completely in the incredibly tight heat enveloping him. He curses in a wavering moan and arcs his body forward until he is bowed over Yussa, one hand braced on the headboard above his head while the other holds his thigh just beneath his knee.
He has to go slowly. Though Yussa is soaked and open with arousal enough that he can fit inside him, it is a near thing. By choice, he hadn't stretched him as thoroughly as he might normally, which has consequences and benefits. On one hand, he has to fuck into him in short, carefully controlled thrusts, rocking out and back in to inch a little deeper each time. On the other, it feels fucking incredible. Yussa's cunt clings to him and stretches for him like this man was made to take his cock.
Head dropping between his shoulders, Caleb presses his brow to Yussa's, vision blurring in close proximity. He doesn't seek to kiss him because he is panting for breath, wordless and already trying to will himself not to come. Though he's been taken to the edge once already, that would still be an embarrassment after all of his talk.
Yussa can't help a moan as Caleb finally pushes into him. He takes it slow, which Yussa is grateful for, but gods he still feels the stretch as his lover's cock moves in and out of him, sinking a bit deeper each time. Still, he is aroused enough that his body yields and so rather than an ache he just feels full.
His thigh is tense against Caleb's hand and he moans louder when he finally bottoms out. Yussa's head lolls back and he his cunt flutters and squeezes around the other man. His other leg moves, pressing against Caleb's side as if he can trap him where he is. They've rushed this before, but tonight it's entirely deliberate for the sake of this feeling and it's utterly worth it.
"Oh, gods," he gasps out. He's quite certain neither of them are capable of a proper kiss right now but he reaches up to pull Caleb into one anyway, brief and uncoordinated. One hand drops between them and his fingers tremble as the brush over his clit. That makes his hips jump and he hiccups a breath.
"Caleb--don't stop, please--" He's sure that is the farthest thing from Caleb's mind, but it can't hurt to reassure him all the same.
The kiss is messy and perfect, a desperate slide of wet lips and hot, gasping breaths that ends as quickly as it began. The heat beneath Caleb's skin is an inferno, but the burn is sweet. It licks at the base of his spine, spreading thickly down through his thighs and his balls and his hard, leaking cock.
If they are in a hurry, sometimes they skip a few steps and Caleb is treated to the uniquely delicious sensation of really fucking Yussa open on his cock, feeling his walls spread with each slow, deliberate thrust. But tonight they had time, and still they chose this instead. Caleb's head spins with the implications of that, making a deliberate choice to have Yussa this way, being granted the authority to suggest it in the first place.
Yussa is a vision of his deepest desires made real, beautiful and erotic and wanton beyond belief. His well-fucked mouth gasps, hiccups, breathlessly pleads, his dark, wild eyes are losing focus, and his shaking fingers stroke over his swollen clit, so sensitive that his slender body jolts up and Caleb sinks deep inside him, faster and harder than he expected. He can't bite back a groan, eyes fluttering and hand gripping harder at both the headboard and Yussa's thigh. His hips pull back and sink down again, hilting in his lover's fluttering passage.
"Gods, that's it, keep touching yourself for me," he urges, low and breathy, blue eyes burning into the stunning man shamelessly spread out beneath him. "You needy little thing--you feel so fucking good," he pants. He feels insatiable; he feels like he'll come at any moment. He feels beside himself with want. "You cannot help yourself, can you? You wanted this. You love how my cock stretches your tight cunt."
He speaks in a gravelly growl just above a whisper as his deep, grinding thrusts begin to gain force and speed, finally more like fucking than careful exploration.
Yussa's other arm moves above his head to press against the headboard, trying to brace himself as Caleb grinds into him. The best part of moments like this is Caleb giving himself permission to let go: so often it leads to delicious filth. And this is no exception.
At first he can't say anything. His eyebrows pinch together in an expression that would suggest distress if not for how good this feels. His hand is trembling as he strokes over his clit again and his cunt immediately bears down around Caleb on his next deep thrust. Every breath is edged with a moan as Caleb pushes deep again, and again, gaining speed and force until it becomes clear that Yussa may not be able to articulately respond at all.
His lover is hot and heavy above him, he can feel the firm grip on the back of his thigh pressing his leg out of the way, keeping him obscenely spread. The sound of their bodies moving together, the sound of skin against skin as Caleb fucks him with even less restraint.
"I--it's so much--" Yussa's instinct is to make himself come. Perhaps any other day, he might. But he meant it when he said he is Caleb's until dawn, and he won't finish himself without his patron asking for it and so he tries to moderate the way he touches himself. The chains slide against his skin with every thrust, adding an extra layer of sensation; on his back, they no longer cover his breasts quite so much, but serve to frame them as much as his tattoos.
Caleb sees what is happening. Yussa's fingers move over his clit, but just enough to make him clench down--which feels unbearably good--not enough to make himself come. He is waiting for Caleb's permission. Has that ever happened before? Has Yussa withheld his own pleasure based on Caleb's control? He doesn't think so.
"Gods, yes. Worth every copper," he mutters just over the obscene wet noise of their fucking. He lifts his head enough to look at the man splayed beneath him, at his flushed and gasping face and the slippery, swollen place they are joined, where Caleb's cock sinks into him again and again as he takes him harder, faster.
Tension unwinds and tightens low in his stomach, warning him of how close he is to reaching the peak he'd denied himself before. He hoists Yussa's knee higher onto his shoulder and uses his free hand to give a sharp pat over his stiff clit--once, twice, for the way it makes the other man's cunt tighten up around him. "Go on," he encourages, "you are so close already. Let me feel you come."
The way both chains and ink frame Yussa's pert breasts is too tempting; Caleb can't help putting his mouth on them again, kissing along the gentle curve and sucking at hard nipples. He can see hints of bruising already from his rough attentions earlier, and thrills at the thought of this man wearing his marks for any amount of time. Surely a potion will get rid of them before his next patron can see, but Caleb imagines him looking in the mirror tomorrow after he has gone, tracing his fingers over his own chest and feeling the bruises ache beneath his touch.
The sharp pats over his clit draw a startled cry from Yussa, who cannot quite recall a time when Caleb has done that. His body jumps from the percussive pressure and his cunt throbs around the other man's cock.
Given his instructions, his permission, Yussa's fingers rub steadily over and around his clit. That makes him tremble, the tension winding low in his body as Caleb gives renewed attention to his breasts. He's seen bruises in the shape of his lover's mouth before and somehow, now, the thought that anyone else might see them is a delirious pleasure. Of course he should have them healed before his next patron - but what if he didn't?
"Please--please--" The words fall from his lips and Yussa is not even sure what he's begging for. It doesn't really matter, he will take what Caleb gives him, and that is a thought that only drives him closer to his peak.
His breath comes faster and the heat he feels between them is almost unbearable when he finally pushes himself to come. Yussa cries out, shaking as he comes. His thighs tense where they are against Caleb's shoulder and his side, everything in him trying to draw this pleasure inward as Caleb fucks him through it. It's almost too much given the younger man's driving pace, but that only serves to unmoor Yussa further, sweeping him up in the rush of his release. The constant friction drags it out, until his breathing is ragged.
The pace of Caleb's demanding thrusts falters with Yussa's gasped pleas, with the way his cunt bears down and tightens. He gives a ragged moan, swept up by Yussa's pleasure, by his own. He fucks him for as long as he can, savoring the twitching and trembling of his body as he makes himself come. The tension in his own body rises fast on the heels of Yussa's orgasm, and Caleb sees no reason to delay it again. His lips leaves the other man's breasts to kiss him soundly on his panting mouth as he drives down into him with unrestrained need.
Heat prickles down his spine, his balls tighten, and his vision narrows to a dizzying focus on Yussa beneath him as all else fades. The narrow space between them is filled with their ragged breaths and the lewd noise of Caleb burying his cock deep into his lover's wet cunt again and again. His pleasure spikes, and he knows he is past the point of no return.
Surely Yussa must permit his clients to spill inside? Who could resist? But what if he doesn't? He has a vague thought of pulling out, of coming on his belly, his breasts, his face--but even as he wonders, it is already too late. He comes hard, his hips snapping forward to bottom out, cock pulsing deep within the perfect fluttering heat of Yussa's cunt.
His hips continue to rock as he spills, burying his face in the crook of Yussa's neck and muffling a low groan against his perfumed skin. Gods, this man--he knows with a terrible certainty that he'll spend any amount of coin to see him again.
Yussa's hand leaves his clit and grabs Caleb's arm as the other man leans over him, kisses him hard even as they both struggle to breathe. His body is bent in half and the entire world narrows to what is between them. He cannot stop the way his voice rises and a ragged moan drags from him as Caleb fucks him with rising intensity. Every thrust pushes him deep and it's almost too much, but Yussa doesn't want him to stop.
He doesn't think to urge Caleb to pull out - why would he? His body is this man's, he's paid for this privilege, and he should be allowed to finish where he will. Yussa tips his head back, attempting to find some relief from the heat between them as Caleb buries himself, face pressed to his neck. He shudders in the other man's arms and another wave of tension rolls through him as Caleb fills him.
His other hand slides up to stroke into Caleb's hair, holding it back from his brow as they tremble together in the aftermath of their release. Yussa's panting hard, chest heaving gently beneath Caleb as a heavy warmth spreads through him. His fingers brush along Caleb's scalp in a lazy caress, offering reassuring affection.
As the potent high of his orgasm ebbs, Caleb takes comfort in Yussa's hand stroking through his hair and the raw, quiet tenderness between them as they both return to their panting, sweating, trembling bodies in the wake of sharing such intense pleasure. He kisses Yussa's neck before shakily pushing himself up just enough to let the smaller man's legs down so he isn't folded completely in half.
He looks gorgeous like this, tattooed and draped in gold, but now flushed and well-fucked, his immaculate presentation debauched in a way that makes him even more irresistible. With a low moan, Caleb captures his lips again, kissing him deeply for as long as he can while they are both still catching their breath. But then he does it again, and again, pressing Yussa to the pillows behind him and running his hands over his body, content to keep his cock warm in his still fluttering cunt as they kiss.
Gods, he could do this for hours. There is something especially indulgent about sharing languid kisses and slow caresses while still joined, especially after sex vigorous enough to leave his muscles aching.
Eventually he does ease his hips back enough that his soft cock slips free with a wet noise. His tongue licks into Yussa's mouth as if to make up for it before their lips part as well. Caleb vaguely wonders if he'll be asked to clean up his mess--an old favorite--but he doesn't think Yussa the courtesan would make such a request of a patron. Not without prior knowledge of their proclivities, at least.
He sighs as Caleb lets his legs down and arches his lower back briefly to stretch it. Yussa relaxes, and with his eyes still closed the first kiss takes him by surprise. He moans weakly against Caleb's mouth, and he barely has a moment to catch his breath when they part before Caleb is kissing him again, and again, until Yussa is lightheaded.
The archmage is utterly pliant by the time Caleb stops kissing him long enough to pull out of him. He immediately feels the loss, but he doesn't have much time to sit with that before Caleb's tongue sweeps back into his mouth. Gods, he's been well-fucked before but that still seemed--different.
When they finally part, Yussa takes a deeper breath. His golden eyes are warm and a little hazy as he looks up at the younger man leaning over him. He can feel Caleb's spend spilling from him, and there's a brief pause of expectation. But Caleb is a new patron, and Yussa would not rightly know what he would like just yet, nor does he quite have the freedom to make demands as he usually would. So rather than telling Caleb to lick his cunt clean, he simply reaches up to offer an affectionate caress along his cheek.
"I see your skill set extends far past arcane mastery," he murmurs, looking pleased with himself and with Caleb.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Less distracted, it's difficult to discount his own arousal, built up and now neglected. That's fine - he has no doubt Caleb will return to his cunt when he's ready. Yussa takes the opportunity to stretch, absently reaching above his head. It puts the lean lines and slight curves of his body on display before he returns his full attention to his patron.
He slinks back onto the bed and curls a hand around Caleb's straining cock to stroke it as he gets back into position. He doesn't hesitate then, guiding his patron back into his mouth so that he can bob down. Yussa doesn't take the full length of him on the first try, but he works up to it again. He has to keep his focus - he never likes setting up Caleb to fail and this is no different.
Yussa teases with his tongue and teeth, relaxing when it seems like Caleb wants to fuck into his mouth. He knows this fantasy gives Caleb leeway he might not take otherwise, the ability to do chase his own pleasure without getting caught up in ensuring Yussa's. He tries to respond fluidly to the younger man's needs and demands, all while bearing in mind that he is to stop before Caleb works himself up too much.
no subject
Luckily, he can look all he wants. Which he does as Yussa joins him again, stroking the spit-slick length of him with a relaxed ease before bending to apply his mouth again. Caleb showers him with more husky praise in his own tongue, feeling his pulse jump as Yussa falls back into a rhythm, taking his cues from Caleb himself as his hips buck up. Despite his resolve to allow Yussa his freedom, pleasure makes his control slip, and he can't stop himself from rubbing the underside of his cock across his lover's tongue and fucking into his throat, hand cradling his head.
Everything about this is heady, almost illicitly so. It feels wrong to take so much for himself while giving nothing in return. Yet this encounter is designed to center his pleasure in a way that is like nothing they've done before. Part of him still balks at letting himself feel good. It longs for the comforting certainty of submission, reminding him that he should be the one serving, lavishing Yussa with attention. This is more than he deserves. But Yussa wants this; the client-provider dynamic is part of what he seeks from this fantasy, so to please him, Caleb must allow himself a little selfishness. That is how he must justify it in his mind, anyway.
The heavy, hot tension focused between his legs winds up as quickly as he expected. His thighs are spread wide now to accommodate Yussa between them, feet braced on the bed. Caleb whimpers and pants intermittently, grinding his cock without finesse against Yussa's gold-smeared lips and taking his pleasure with the tight slickness of his throat. His fingers wind into his hair, not pulling, but gripping with increasing urgency. His balls ache with how close he is.
He should stop. He should stop now while he can, but gods, it's so good. That was a task he entrusted to Yussa for a reason; now that he is there on the precipice, he has a hard time seeing why he would want to do anything but drop over it.
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.
no subject
Gods, Yussa's face is a mess. It's ridiculously hot.
When Yussa is apparently certain that his impending orgasm has been sufficiently thwarted, he wipes beneath his swollen lower lip, which doesn't do much for the saliva covering his chin, but does make Caleb's cock give a heavy throb. He feels a little mad with want, and he reaches with some desperation to take Yussa's hand where it rests on his hip, trying to pull him closer.
"Come up here, schtaz, please," he urges in a rough whisper. What he wants most right now is to be closer, to kiss the mess of his mouth and taste traces of himself on his tongue. As soon as Yussa is close enough he does just that, hand curling around the back of his neck again to guide him in for a deep, searing kiss.
no subject
He can't resist a slight rock of his hips, a subtle grind against Caleb's stomach to take the edge off his own throbbing arousal. When they part, Yussa feels breathless and a little dazed. But he smiles and strokes his fingers along Caleb's cheek.
"I'm here," he murmurs sweetly. He likes knowing that he is the reason for that desperate grip and the urgency in the way Caleb touches and kisses him.
no subject
"You are incredible," he murmurs, still close enough brush Yussa's lips with his as he speaks. "This is more than earned."
There is no need for Yussa to rub off against him; Caleb is happy to slide his hand between them instead, fingers gliding with ease through his slippery folds. Yussa is noticeably more aroused than he was before, wet and hot to the touch. His fingertips glance over his swollen clit and rub down to find the silken heat of his entrance soft and yielding, though he doesn't yet press inside.
"Do you need my fingers still?" he husks, astonished and intrigued to learn how sucking him off has affected his companion. The proof that he genuinely enjoyed it is humbling. "Or could I fit my cock inside you? You feel plenty wet enough."
no subject
It's been weeks since they've seen each other, long enough that Yussa need seriously consider that question. But he's also exponentially more aroused now than he was when Caleb fucked him with his fingers earlier.
"I think it would be a stretch," he confesses, as if having Caleb's cock in his mouth has made him reconsider his calculations. "But I will take what you give me... you have already seen that."
It isn't quite the same as letting Caleb fuck his mouth, but the willingness is there and Yussa thinks that is a fine precedent for the evening. The archmage can feel heat burn in his face as he recalls the way Caleb pawed at him earlier and the low rasp of his voice as he affirmed he would take everything Yussa has to offer tonight. Possibly multiple times. Just thinking of it encourages another little surge of wetness and Yussa rests the urge to try to squeeze his thighs together. Given the way he's straddling Caleb's torso, that isn't really an option for seeking relief.
"Do you wish to see me spread open? Stuffed full of you?" he murmurs, voice lower.
no subject
"I do. For months now," he answers. His fingers stir slick circles over his entrance, and he can't resist curling two up and in. They slide deep with exhilarating ease, and his breath catches in his chest before he speaks again. "I have fucked my fist more times than I can recall wishing that it was your cunt. So forgive me if I am a little, ah--overly eager."
His lips brush Yussa's again briefly before diverting to his ear as his fingers stroke against the tight softness of his walls. His teeth catch the lobe lightly as he noses against the side of his neck. The perfume he has decided on today is different from any he usually wears, which is an interesting and thoughtful touch. It lends a touch of the unfamiliar to a body he knows very well, which makes this feel new.
"A stretch, still?" he murmurs, low and rough, hot breath over the shell of his lover's elegantly pointed ear.
no subject
Yussa bows his head and rocks his hips back to meet the thrust of Caleb's fingers. His eyes are nearly closed as the other man's lips brush against his ear, teeth scraping the soft lobe. His cunt flutters around Caleb's fingers when his breath teases against his skin.
"A little," he breathes. In truth, his body is far more yielding than it was when Caleb arrived. "But nothing... uncomfortable."
If Caleb fucked him now, he would certainly feel it as more of a stretch, but given how aroused he is Yussa doesn't think it will actually be a hardship. There is nothing that makes him think it would pain him to do so. He hasn't exactly been idle in the last few weeks either.
"I must admit," he murmurs, lips near Caleb's cheek, "that I find your enthusiasm exciting."
It is one thing to be desired; it is another thing entirely to feel like a prize. Caleb, in all his preparation, is making it clear that is exactly what Yussa is to him tonight. Something he has earned for himself.
no subject
"I guessed as much," Caleb says with a grin, hidden against the perfumed skin behind Yussa's ear. "And I will admit that tonight has become...something beyond an ordinary goal for me. A bit of an obsession. But that is what you are due, I think. Any man who would treat you as less than extraordinary is a fool."
His fingers rock up and draw back in a shallow thrust, and he briefly considers adding a third, but decides against it. Greedily, he wants to feel Yussa take him just like this.
"If I want you on your back, will these be uncomfortable for you?" His free hand plucks at a gold chain draped over the modest flare of a slender hip, then slips beneath to feel the warm skin directly, self-indulgent.
no subject
"No," he assures softly, his face warming more with all the question implies. "The metal is soft, the chains are fine... it won't be uncomfortable to lay on them. I will keep them on or remove them at your pleasure."
Yussa chose his things carefully, especially anything he might end up wearing for a long period of time. The chains he wears are exactly as he said: delicate enough not to hurt if he lays on them, strong enough that he is certain they won't break if they are put under any strain.
He leans down to give Caleb a firm kiss.
"You may have me how you want me, Caleb Widogast."
no subject
The embers of his denied orgasm smolder in his belly, easily stirred up again by Yussa's words and his confident kisses.
"Then I will have you on your back," Caleb whispers roughly between them. "With your legs spread and your knees over my shoulders. I hope you are flexible, schatz."
This last bit is said with a lopsided grin and a playful nip to Yussa's already swollen lower lip before he kisses him, tasting himself again on his lover's tongue and coaxing it into his own mouth. He does release him eventually, reluctantly, so that he can move and position himself in the way he's instructed.
"I want you to show me," he rasps, "what all of my hard work has earned." The rush of power he feels goes straight to his cock.
no subject
Yussa takes a deeper breath when they apart and he feels another shiver of warmth with the assertion that Caleb has earned everything he takes tonight. He eases back on the bed, moving effortlessly until he's in a position he finds comfortable. Not so close to the headboard that he risks hitting it with any vigorous use, but close enough that he or Caleb could grab it should they choose to.
He lays back, golden gaze unwavering on Caleb as he spreads his thighs. His cunt is flushed and slick for the man who's given him so much attention. The henna on the back of his thighs seems to frame him even like this. Yussa lets his fingers tease over his entrance before spreading them, if only to show Caleb just how ready he is thanks to his hard work. He feels a throb of arousal in response to being looked at like this - it feels lewd, obscene, and he is enjoying every second of it.
no subject
"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."
no subject
"Yes," he answers, soft and breathless. He reminds himself of their game and whispers, "Please, Caleb. You left me feeling so empty."
He isn't inclined to beg, and though this is not the first time, he hopes it's rare enough to make it special. Yussa can feel the useless contraction of muscles inside him, his body seeking more as Caleb teases against his entrance.
no subject
"Then I will fill you again," he murmurs, and puts force behind the next roll of his hips. He allows Yussa's fingers to line him up and watches as his entrance stretches around the thicker head of his cock. The slick walls and clenching muscle within pull him slowly deeper until the first inch disappears inside Yussa's cunt. It is all Caleb can do not to pound the rest in after it, not to lose himself completely in the incredibly tight heat enveloping him. He curses in a wavering moan and arcs his body forward until he is bowed over Yussa, one hand braced on the headboard above his head while the other holds his thigh just beneath his knee.
He has to go slowly. Though Yussa is soaked and open with arousal enough that he can fit inside him, it is a near thing. By choice, he hadn't stretched him as thoroughly as he might normally, which has consequences and benefits. On one hand, he has to fuck into him in short, carefully controlled thrusts, rocking out and back in to inch a little deeper each time. On the other, it feels fucking incredible. Yussa's cunt clings to him and stretches for him like this man was made to take his cock.
Head dropping between his shoulders, Caleb presses his brow to Yussa's, vision blurring in close proximity. He doesn't seek to kiss him because he is panting for breath, wordless and already trying to will himself not to come. Though he's been taken to the edge once already, that would still be an embarrassment after all of his talk.
no subject
His thigh is tense against Caleb's hand and he moans louder when he finally bottoms out. Yussa's head lolls back and he his cunt flutters and squeezes around the other man. His other leg moves, pressing against Caleb's side as if he can trap him where he is. They've rushed this before, but tonight it's entirely deliberate for the sake of this feeling and it's utterly worth it.
"Oh, gods," he gasps out. He's quite certain neither of them are capable of a proper kiss right now but he reaches up to pull Caleb into one anyway, brief and uncoordinated. One hand drops between them and his fingers tremble as the brush over his clit. That makes his hips jump and he hiccups a breath.
"Caleb--don't stop, please--" He's sure that is the farthest thing from Caleb's mind, but it can't hurt to reassure him all the same.
no subject
If they are in a hurry, sometimes they skip a few steps and Caleb is treated to the uniquely delicious sensation of really fucking Yussa open on his cock, feeling his walls spread with each slow, deliberate thrust. But tonight they had time, and still they chose this instead. Caleb's head spins with the implications of that, making a deliberate choice to have Yussa this way, being granted the authority to suggest it in the first place.
Yussa is a vision of his deepest desires made real, beautiful and erotic and wanton beyond belief. His well-fucked mouth gasps, hiccups, breathlessly pleads, his dark, wild eyes are losing focus, and his shaking fingers stroke over his swollen clit, so sensitive that his slender body jolts up and Caleb sinks deep inside him, faster and harder than he expected. He can't bite back a groan, eyes fluttering and hand gripping harder at both the headboard and Yussa's thigh. His hips pull back and sink down again, hilting in his lover's fluttering passage.
"Gods, that's it, keep touching yourself for me," he urges, low and breathy, blue eyes burning into the stunning man shamelessly spread out beneath him. "You needy little thing--you feel so fucking good," he pants. He feels insatiable; he feels like he'll come at any moment. He feels beside himself with want. "You cannot help yourself, can you? You wanted this. You love how my cock stretches your tight cunt."
He speaks in a gravelly growl just above a whisper as his deep, grinding thrusts begin to gain force and speed, finally more like fucking than careful exploration.
no subject
At first he can't say anything. His eyebrows pinch together in an expression that would suggest distress if not for how good this feels. His hand is trembling as he strokes over his clit again and his cunt immediately bears down around Caleb on his next deep thrust. Every breath is edged with a moan as Caleb pushes deep again, and again, gaining speed and force until it becomes clear that Yussa may not be able to articulately respond at all.
His lover is hot and heavy above him, he can feel the firm grip on the back of his thigh pressing his leg out of the way, keeping him obscenely spread. The sound of their bodies moving together, the sound of skin against skin as Caleb fucks him with even less restraint.
"I--it's so much--" Yussa's instinct is to make himself come. Perhaps any other day, he might. But he meant it when he said he is Caleb's until dawn, and he won't finish himself without his patron asking for it and so he tries to moderate the way he touches himself. The chains slide against his skin with every thrust, adding an extra layer of sensation; on his back, they no longer cover his breasts quite so much, but serve to frame them as much as his tattoos.
no subject
"Gods, yes. Worth every copper," he mutters just over the obscene wet noise of their fucking. He lifts his head enough to look at the man splayed beneath him, at his flushed and gasping face and the slippery, swollen place they are joined, where Caleb's cock sinks into him again and again as he takes him harder, faster.
Tension unwinds and tightens low in his stomach, warning him of how close he is to reaching the peak he'd denied himself before. He hoists Yussa's knee higher onto his shoulder and uses his free hand to give a sharp pat over his stiff clit--once, twice, for the way it makes the other man's cunt tighten up around him. "Go on," he encourages, "you are so close already. Let me feel you come."
The way both chains and ink frame Yussa's pert breasts is too tempting; Caleb can't help putting his mouth on them again, kissing along the gentle curve and sucking at hard nipples. He can see hints of bruising already from his rough attentions earlier, and thrills at the thought of this man wearing his marks for any amount of time. Surely a potion will get rid of them before his next patron can see, but Caleb imagines him looking in the mirror tomorrow after he has gone, tracing his fingers over his own chest and feeling the bruises ache beneath his touch.
no subject
Given his instructions, his permission, Yussa's fingers rub steadily over and around his clit. That makes him tremble, the tension winding low in his body as Caleb gives renewed attention to his breasts. He's seen bruises in the shape of his lover's mouth before and somehow, now, the thought that anyone else might see them is a delirious pleasure. Of course he should have them healed before his next patron - but what if he didn't?
"Please--please--" The words fall from his lips and Yussa is not even sure what he's begging for. It doesn't really matter, he will take what Caleb gives him, and that is a thought that only drives him closer to his peak.
His breath comes faster and the heat he feels between them is almost unbearable when he finally pushes himself to come. Yussa cries out, shaking as he comes. His thighs tense where they are against Caleb's shoulder and his side, everything in him trying to draw this pleasure inward as Caleb fucks him through it. It's almost too much given the younger man's driving pace, but that only serves to unmoor Yussa further, sweeping him up in the rush of his release. The constant friction drags it out, until his breathing is ragged.
no subject
Heat prickles down his spine, his balls tighten, and his vision narrows to a dizzying focus on Yussa beneath him as all else fades. The narrow space between them is filled with their ragged breaths and the lewd noise of Caleb burying his cock deep into his lover's wet cunt again and again. His pleasure spikes, and he knows he is past the point of no return.
Surely Yussa must permit his clients to spill inside? Who could resist? But what if he doesn't? He has a vague thought of pulling out, of coming on his belly, his breasts, his face--but even as he wonders, it is already too late. He comes hard, his hips snapping forward to bottom out, cock pulsing deep within the perfect fluttering heat of Yussa's cunt.
His hips continue to rock as he spills, burying his face in the crook of Yussa's neck and muffling a low groan against his perfumed skin. Gods, this man--he knows with a terrible certainty that he'll spend any amount of coin to see him again.
no subject
He doesn't think to urge Caleb to pull out - why would he? His body is this man's, he's paid for this privilege, and he should be allowed to finish where he will. Yussa tips his head back, attempting to find some relief from the heat between them as Caleb buries himself, face pressed to his neck. He shudders in the other man's arms and another wave of tension rolls through him as Caleb fills him.
His other hand slides up to stroke into Caleb's hair, holding it back from his brow as they tremble together in the aftermath of their release. Yussa's panting hard, chest heaving gently beneath Caleb as a heavy warmth spreads through him. His fingers brush along Caleb's scalp in a lazy caress, offering reassuring affection.
no subject
He looks gorgeous like this, tattooed and draped in gold, but now flushed and well-fucked, his immaculate presentation debauched in a way that makes him even more irresistible. With a low moan, Caleb captures his lips again, kissing him deeply for as long as he can while they are both still catching their breath. But then he does it again, and again, pressing Yussa to the pillows behind him and running his hands over his body, content to keep his cock warm in his still fluttering cunt as they kiss.
Gods, he could do this for hours. There is something especially indulgent about sharing languid kisses and slow caresses while still joined, especially after sex vigorous enough to leave his muscles aching.
Eventually he does ease his hips back enough that his soft cock slips free with a wet noise. His tongue licks into Yussa's mouth as if to make up for it before their lips part as well. Caleb vaguely wonders if he'll be asked to clean up his mess--an old favorite--but he doesn't think Yussa the courtesan would make such a request of a patron. Not without prior knowledge of their proclivities, at least.
no subject
The archmage is utterly pliant by the time Caleb stops kissing him long enough to pull out of him. He immediately feels the loss, but he doesn't have much time to sit with that before Caleb's tongue sweeps back into his mouth. Gods, he's been well-fucked before but that still seemed--different.
When they finally part, Yussa takes a deeper breath. His golden eyes are warm and a little hazy as he looks up at the younger man leaning over him. He can feel Caleb's spend spilling from him, and there's a brief pause of expectation. But Caleb is a new patron, and Yussa would not rightly know what he would like just yet, nor does he quite have the freedom to make demands as he usually would. So rather than telling Caleb to lick his cunt clean, he simply reaches up to offer an affectionate caress along his cheek.
"I see your skill set extends far past arcane mastery," he murmurs, looking pleased with himself and with Caleb.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)