[ It's easy to get lost in it - maybe part of him wants to. To let the heat and the touch and the rush of euphoria chase everything else away for a little while. It's something he'd used many times, but he'd always been in control of it. It was something he couldn't afford to relinquish, after all.
But now? Now he has no choice, that control torn from his gasp and flung so far away it might as well not even have existed. Instead, there is only Basch's hands, his mouth. The stinging kisses to his throat, the fingers pressing against his tongue, back to his throat, demanding his utter surrender.
It's the hand stroking his cock, dragging whimpers and desperate cries from him as he rocks into it, chases that heated friction. Its the shift of the toy within him, rubbing against sensitive muscles that clench and shudder, aching to be filled, stretched, aching for more. The pleasure builds, but there's no outlet and he can only cling to the man he straddles and be carried along with it. ]
no subject
But now? Now he has no choice, that control torn from his gasp and flung so far away it might as well not even have existed. Instead, there is only Basch's hands, his mouth. The stinging kisses to his throat, the fingers pressing against his tongue, back to his throat, demanding his utter surrender.
It's the hand stroking his cock, dragging whimpers and desperate cries from him as he rocks into it, chases that heated friction. Its the shift of the toy within him, rubbing against sensitive muscles that clench and shudder, aching to be filled, stretched, aching for more. The pleasure builds, but there's no outlet and he can only cling to the man he straddles and be carried along with it. ]