Mmhmm...
[it's a rough affirmative, Olivine's weight shifting as Sylvain presses deeper in. so close, but so far, and really—he probably shouldn't be surprised by the response. the priest's tongue shifts against his length, wanting desperately to press himself forward and into the faint ache. his guess is that the redhead is testing the waters without knowing Olivine's limits, but God, it's driving him as mad as if it were deliberate teasing.
he'll have to take his answer in the way his tongue drags along his cock, the sway of impatient hips and the hazy want in his eyes.]
[it's a rough affirmative, Olivine's weight shifting as Sylvain presses deeper in. so close, but so far, and really—he probably shouldn't be surprised by the response. the priest's tongue shifts against his length, wanting desperately to press himself forward and into the faint ache. his guess is that the redhead is testing the waters without knowing Olivine's limits, but God, it's driving him as mad as if it were deliberate teasing.
he'll have to take his answer in the way his tongue drags along his cock, the sway of impatient hips and the hazy want in his eyes.]
[He does up the next button with an extra pointed flourish, hmph!!]
Beg pardon? I believe you are the only one with undue criticisms of my- [um] -bearing and manner. My success is guaranteed.
[You know, eventually.]
Beg pardon? I believe you are the only one with undue criticisms of my- [um] -bearing and manner. My success is guaranteed.
[You know, eventually.]
[Good, he can finish the rest and tut about it again. Huff!]
Not that it is any of your business, [and what are timelines--] but— one. And it was much more enjoyable.
Not that it is any of your business, [and what are timelines--] but— one. And it was much more enjoyable.
I'm dying to do the same... maybe more?
[ said smoothly at first with a little hiccup at the end as sylvain shifts himself inside of him. he can feel the release gathering, warm and wet from gravity, and he squirms. not uncomfortably, rather, how can he better accommodate the bulk inside of him. he pushes himself down just a bit further, like trying to seal himself up as he kisses him once more, hungry and open-mouthed, a reward for blissing him out. he's still riding the high, but he always feels a little high when someone stays inside of him.
he squeezes unconsciously, clutches around him with a giddy sigh. ]
In a bed, even? [ pushing a little bit of his hair back. he glances down just a bit and gives a tired little smile. ] How're the legs... you okay?
[ he's been there, it's shaky business. ]
[ said smoothly at first with a little hiccup at the end as sylvain shifts himself inside of him. he can feel the release gathering, warm and wet from gravity, and he squirms. not uncomfortably, rather, how can he better accommodate the bulk inside of him. he pushes himself down just a bit further, like trying to seal himself up as he kisses him once more, hungry and open-mouthed, a reward for blissing him out. he's still riding the high, but he always feels a little high when someone stays inside of him.
he squeezes unconsciously, clutches around him with a giddy sigh. ]
In a bed, even? [ pushing a little bit of his hair back. he glances down just a bit and gives a tired little smile. ] How're the legs... you okay?
[ he's been there, it's shaky business. ]
[That was almost a comment he could tolerate, and then, oh... He plucks Sylvain's hand off his shoulder and drops it, frowning deeper.]
My complaint is that you insist on treating me like this. I am not a charity case.
My complaint is that you insist on treating me like this. I am not a charity case.
[touche. Olivine is just giving him the benefit of the doubt, especially given how he'd started by asking how much he could take, really.
Inch after inch eases into his mouth and Olivine has to swallow a few times to let the tip ease down his throat, girth faintly tight against its walls. Lashes flutter quite uncontrollably, and there's the first touch of something changing.
That is... Olivine can't help the slight shimmer of wetness that rises to his eyes the the pleasant ache, at complete odds with every desperate action he takes to greedily beg for more. The priest is quick to cry over stimulation... there's not much more to it, if Sylvain notices it swiftly.]
Inch after inch eases into his mouth and Olivine has to swallow a few times to let the tip ease down his throat, girth faintly tight against its walls. Lashes flutter quite uncontrollably, and there's the first touch of something changing.
That is... Olivine can't help the slight shimmer of wetness that rises to his eyes the the pleasant ache, at complete odds with every desperate action he takes to greedily beg for more. The priest is quick to cry over stimulation... there's not much more to it, if Sylvain notices it swiftly.]
[His breath is heavy and sharp when Sylvain pulls back, caught in deep cycles that certainly don't suggest inexperience. Lashes flutter and he can feel the slightest lean into the hand on his cheek, the agonizing press of his cock when it slides home. Every last inch feels like sweet agony, a choked whine reverberating against it at the praise. good boy.
The grip of his fingers loosens a little as Sylvain finds his pattern, pulls back enough to breathe. Shifts, and pulls Olivine right back to the waiting again. The priest's cheeks burn in the wake of it, the reality spoken in sweet vulgarity. It crashes into the pool of desire he's already nearly lost himself to, and every soft noise, every hitch of breath, becomes an answer.
Neglected, his cock aches between his thighs, hard and wet against the fabric still containing it. He wants—he wants to hear more of that rasp. Wants to see his face when he comes, buried balls deep in his mouth. Of course he's right, he can't respond. Use him more, harder. Push him to the edge, over the edge, again and again until nothing of him remains but for the desperate, broken and impatient core of greed and depravity.
His head tilts, enough that he can just see past tears and lashes and hazy arousal. Give me, a plea left on bated breath. Give me, the squeeze of his throat with each swallow and whine. Hurry, the shake of hips and pure desperation in his gaze. He can't wait much longer, but by the brief fits and starts of his fingers, lifting off of Sylvain's thighs, forcibly pressed back down. Ah, his cock aches so badly. If he could just reach down, just—]
The grip of his fingers loosens a little as Sylvain finds his pattern, pulls back enough to breathe. Shifts, and pulls Olivine right back to the waiting again. The priest's cheeks burn in the wake of it, the reality spoken in sweet vulgarity. It crashes into the pool of desire he's already nearly lost himself to, and every soft noise, every hitch of breath, becomes an answer.
Neglected, his cock aches between his thighs, hard and wet against the fabric still containing it. He wants—he wants to hear more of that rasp. Wants to see his face when he comes, buried balls deep in his mouth. Of course he's right, he can't respond. Use him more, harder. Push him to the edge, over the edge, again and again until nothing of him remains but for the desperate, broken and impatient core of greed and depravity.
His head tilts, enough that he can just see past tears and lashes and hazy arousal. Give me, a plea left on bated breath. Give me, the squeeze of his throat with each swallow and whine. Hurry, the shake of hips and pure desperation in his gaze. He can't wait much longer, but by the brief fits and starts of his fingers, lifting off of Sylvain's thighs, forcibly pressed back down. Ah, his cock aches so badly. If he could just reach down, just—]
[Sylvain curls over him and it's another sweet little change. His pierced tongue finds its impatient pressure here and there, but for the most part this is the redhead's show now. He's left burning for every thrust, hanging on every word, hair shifting under the ghost of breath atop his head. How deeply satisfying it is, hearing Sylvain rasp taunting little words, feeling the indescribable sensation of each thrust into his waiting throat.
How badly? Leaking—yes, most certainly more than Sylvain might realise. Ah, but the praise. It washes over him with the same satisfaction as the admittance of his impending orgasm. He's close, he'll give it to him, because he's a good boy.
A moment of tension then, just before the blast of heat that pours down his throat. Olivine's moan reverberates against Sylvain's cock between swallows, throat shifting, squeezing, coaxing every drop he can get out of the other man. He's certainly not in any hurry to stop. It's a little hard to breathe, sure, but he wants to taste him.
That can't happen until Sylvain pulls back, Olivine's hips jolting as the tip slips free of his throat. Another swallow or two to relax his throat, and even once his cock is pulled free of the green haired man's mouth his tongue remains lolled out, wet and lazy, with just a strand of saliva (or is it spend? It's hard to tell) stretched thinly between the two. The remaining tears still shimmering in his eyes are blinked back, more or less.]
Ah... haah... mmn...
[There's almost a little laughter in the deep, breathy sounds he makes, tongue finally slithering into action in the effort of cleaning up some of the saliva and pre that had dripped from his lips. When he manages words, they may as well be a purr.]
... thank you for the meal.
How badly? Leaking—yes, most certainly more than Sylvain might realise. Ah, but the praise. It washes over him with the same satisfaction as the admittance of his impending orgasm. He's close, he'll give it to him, because he's a good boy.
A moment of tension then, just before the blast of heat that pours down his throat. Olivine's moan reverberates against Sylvain's cock between swallows, throat shifting, squeezing, coaxing every drop he can get out of the other man. He's certainly not in any hurry to stop. It's a little hard to breathe, sure, but he wants to taste him.
That can't happen until Sylvain pulls back, Olivine's hips jolting as the tip slips free of his throat. Another swallow or two to relax his throat, and even once his cock is pulled free of the green haired man's mouth his tongue remains lolled out, wet and lazy, with just a strand of saliva (or is it spend? It's hard to tell) stretched thinly between the two. The remaining tears still shimmering in his eyes are blinked back, more or less.]
Ah... haah... mmn...
[There's almost a little laughter in the deep, breathy sounds he makes, tongue finally slithering into action in the effort of cleaning up some of the saliva and pre that had dripped from his lips. When he manages words, they may as well be a purr.]
... thank you for the meal.
[There's just something about the way Sylvain reacts that makes Olivine feel so... warmly comfortable. It's familiar, not unlike his other friends, and really, he might have had something to say if not for the tug at his hair, soft yelp muted in the redhead's lips. He can't help but finally laugh in turn when the other speaks.]
Well, if that's the case, I still haven't spoiled my appetite...
Well, if that's the case, I still haven't spoiled my appetite...
Mm... I can't help it.
[His whole body still heaves softly, a soft laugh in his lips. Finally, hands slip fully back from Sylvain's thighs, peering up from between long lashes.]
My apology is accepted, then? [There's that giggle again, Olivine pressing up just to brush his lips.] I don't know how much longer I can behave, Sylvain.
[He has zero right drawing out the other's name like he does, but he does it anyway.]
[His whole body still heaves softly, a soft laugh in his lips. Finally, hands slip fully back from Sylvain's thighs, peering up from between long lashes.]
My apology is accepted, then? [There's that giggle again, Olivine pressing up just to brush his lips.] I don't know how much longer I can behave, Sylvain.
[He has zero right drawing out the other's name like he does, but he does it anyway.]
[Olivine laughs softly in response to Sylvain's surprise, eyes closing briefly as hands cup his jaw.]
Mm... I'd like most to be filled... but that's a little much to ask for a reward, isn't it. So...
[His hands move to gently take the redhead's, leading them down to his chest.]
Please play with my chest. Work me up more and more.
Mm... I'd like most to be filled... but that's a little much to ask for a reward, isn't it. So...
[His hands move to gently take the redhead's, leading them down to his chest.]
Please play with my chest. Work me up more and more.
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