[ He shivers against Claude's back, his words making his arousal feel urgent, his body tingling all over. With a low groan, he kisses the side of Claude's neck, right near the nape, and pushes in. The resistance is minimal - Claude wants it, his body is basically wide open, waiting to swallow him up - and as he pushes in all the way to the base, he pauses only a couple of times to let the other man catch up to him, feeling the way his body responds and responding in kind. In that way, sex really is the closest, most instinctual kind of communication that he knows. It feels so self-evident. Eyes falling shut, he rolls his hips slowly, finding his way into the other man's body until he can't go any deeper. The tightness and warmth around his cock is almost impossible - his mind takes a moment to fully comprehend it but once he feels it, he's there. ]
Fuck, you feel -
[ He swallows his next words, everything in his body telling him to move, to get that sense of friction, of thrust. He breathes hard against the side of Claude's neck and pulls out halfway before thrusting back inside. ]
- ah - you feel good. Perfect.
[ He folds his left arm around Claude's front, over chest and collarbones, taking the pressure off his bad shoulder and pulling Claude just a bit upwards, up against his own chest and closer. He's not being harsh about it - after all, the human body isn't a fucking noodle, it doesn't just stretch in any and all directions - but insistent, all the same. Come here, it means. He starts fucking him slowly, keeping the rhythm deep rather than hurried, the bed creaking beneath them. The heat in his belly doubles and he's breathing harshly, working himself in and out, his pace even.
He can feel his own climax building, his balls tight and drawn. Shifting, he angles himself in an approximation of his fingers, earlier, going for Claude's prostate and expecting to get it. As Claude said, he has experience. And experience is only worth as many benefits as it reaps. ]
no subject
Fuck, you feel -
[ He swallows his next words, everything in his body telling him to move, to get that sense of friction, of thrust. He breathes hard against the side of Claude's neck and pulls out halfway before thrusting back inside. ]
- ah - you feel good. Perfect.
[ He folds his left arm around Claude's front, over chest and collarbones, taking the pressure off his bad shoulder and pulling Claude just a bit upwards, up against his own chest and closer. He's not being harsh about it - after all, the human body isn't a fucking noodle, it doesn't just stretch in any and all directions - but insistent, all the same. Come here, it means. He starts fucking him slowly, keeping the rhythm deep rather than hurried, the bed creaking beneath them. The heat in his belly doubles and he's breathing harshly, working himself in and out, his pace even.
He can feel his own climax building, his balls tight and drawn. Shifting, he angles himself in an approximation of his fingers, earlier, going for Claude's prostate and expecting to get it. As Claude said, he has experience. And experience is only worth as many benefits as it reaps. ]