Listening to Arthur talk about bringing himself off to the thought of them together made Erron's blood flow hot and sluggish in his veins. It was another first in a long line of firsts since they'd laid eyes on one another in those mountains. He'd seduced plenty of women willing to confess to such a private, forbidden thing before, but there hadn't been no man willing to admit to nothing never. He never got the chance to ask — reckoned he wouldn't have dared even if he had — and they took it to their grave.
There was just something about Arthur that got him to wandering down paths untraveled; got him to losing true north and forgetting which direction he'd come from. A dangerous, thrilling habit to get into.
"Again. Say it again," Arthur's heart thundered just as hard and twice as fast beneath the tip of his tongue, face tucked in the crook of Arthur's neck, as his very own. Erron knew because he could feel it throbbing acutely between his thighs, out of time like a musical round with the vein he traced with his mouth. His palm was slippery when he returned it to its task, adjusted his grip to twist the web between thumb and fore at the crown on the upstroke, just the way he liked it. "Say y'want me. Say it."
His cock kicked hard in his grip with a hot, wet sensation of slick welling up at the tip and then spilling over into his fist, the sound his hand indecently audible now above the din of breath and half-stifled groans at the back of his throat. It wouldn't be long before his balls drew up tight on him and he saw white, spent himself all over the both of them, but Erron wanted it to be to that ragged ache in him when Arthur told him the truth. "Say it," he whispered.
my original tag got flung into the void and i am a murderous salt mine rn
There was just something about Arthur that got him to wandering down paths untraveled; got him to losing true north and forgetting which direction he'd come from. A dangerous, thrilling habit to get into.
"Again. Say it again," Arthur's heart thundered just as hard and twice as fast beneath the tip of his tongue, face tucked in the crook of Arthur's neck, as his very own. Erron knew because he could feel it throbbing acutely between his thighs, out of time like a musical round with the vein he traced with his mouth. His palm was slippery when he returned it to its task, adjusted his grip to twist the web between thumb and fore at the crown on the upstroke, just the way he liked it. "Say y'want me. Say it."
His cock kicked hard in his grip with a hot, wet sensation of slick welling up at the tip and then spilling over into his fist, the sound his hand indecently audible now above the din of breath and half-stifled groans at the back of his throat. It wouldn't be long before his balls drew up tight on him and he saw white, spent himself all over the both of them, but Erron wanted it to be to that ragged ache in him when Arthur told him the truth. "Say it," he whispered.