I hear you, loud and clear. See you too, how good you are for me. Look how nice you take it. But be honest - it's not full enough, is it? And it's a hell of a lot harder doing it all by yourself, yeah?
[but christ if he doesn't just look exquisite in his exertion - the sweat glistening in the dim light along the tight planes of his back, the flex of the toned muscles reaching behind to let his hole suck those prying fingers right up into the pert curve of his ass. a veritable work of art, the kind that's been molded as if from flesh to meet his every desire somehow. that's the part he can't get over - because god knows he's fucked his way through plenty of whiny twinks and dumb bucks who are willing and warm, but definitely don't stir anything more than a few brutal thrusts of his hips before he's finding the fastest escape route. skippy's got the kind of body hawk would do more than just a quick pump and dump - he'd spend hours teasing him, working him up, hell: he even wants to hear what he'd sound like wholly undone with hawk's mouth around his most sensitive parts.]
Four? Well alright, let's see how you manage. Bet you'd take my whole fist if I told you to. You'd be so full you might even sob - one twist and I'd make you see the sun and the stars.
[don't cum without me.
his fingers hesitate over the keyboard, fist tightening on impulse and stilling. not because he's obeying an order, hell no. normally that would earn a firm hand - a slap, a tug, a brutal reminder who's the one in charge lest anyone think it's more than just no strings. but there's something so painfully earnest about it, like he just can't help himself. like his pleasure is wholly dependent on hawk's.
there it is again. sweet.]
I won't.
[there's a pause as hawk lets what is basically an admission of surrender sink in, before quickly recovering.]
But - one more thing. Just keep calling me sir.
[why did he give that stupid name anyway? it's not what he wants to hear moaned out as skippy gets closer and closer to that precipice where it'll be too much. but it can't be hawk - so this is what he'll have to settle for.]
Arch your back and show me how bad you need me, sweetheart.
[he wants to see the heavy swell of his balls, the peek of his flushed dick. is he dripping?]
no subject
See you too, how good you are for me. Look how nice you take it.
But be honest - it's not full enough, is it?
And it's a hell of a lot harder doing it all by yourself, yeah?
[but christ if he doesn't just look exquisite in his exertion - the sweat glistening in the dim light along the tight planes of his back, the flex of the toned muscles reaching behind to let his hole suck those prying fingers right up into the pert curve of his ass. a veritable work of art, the kind that's been molded as if from flesh to meet his every desire somehow. that's the part he can't get over - because god knows he's fucked his way through plenty of whiny twinks and dumb bucks who are willing and warm, but definitely don't stir anything more than a few brutal thrusts of his hips before he's finding the fastest escape route. skippy's got the kind of body hawk would do more than just a quick pump and dump - he'd spend hours teasing him, working him up, hell: he even wants to hear what he'd sound like wholly undone with hawk's mouth around his most sensitive parts.]
Four? Well alright, let's see how you manage.
Bet you'd take my whole fist if I told you to. You'd be so full you might even sob - one twist and I'd make you see the sun and the stars.
[don't cum without me.
his fingers hesitate over the keyboard, fist tightening on impulse and stilling. not because he's obeying an order, hell no. normally that would earn a firm hand - a slap, a tug, a brutal reminder who's the one in charge lest anyone think it's more than just no strings. but there's something so painfully earnest about it, like he just can't help himself. like his pleasure is wholly dependent on hawk's.
there it is again. sweet.]
I won't.
[there's a pause as hawk lets what is basically an admission of surrender sink in, before quickly recovering.]
But - one more thing.
Just keep calling me sir.
[why did he give that stupid name anyway? it's not what he wants to hear moaned out as skippy gets closer and closer to that precipice where it'll be too much. but it can't be hawk - so this is what he'll have to settle for.]
Arch your back and show me how bad you need me, sweetheart.
[he wants to see the heavy swell of his balls, the peek of his flushed dick. is he dripping?]