[The praise is almost as potent as the smack of a hand, a delirious high now transformed by the ache of exposed flesh, heady as it leaches through limbs and settles like a hot coal in his belly. There is some tight, knotted arousal in how this scene plays out — his mind devises the unbidden context of that punishment delivered for a wrong, a transgression, and discovers how good it feels to have it paid. That it is like repentance, scratching a sore itch deep underneath his psyche where he could not reach before.
And Cy says he is hard because of it. He wants to squirm higher into the man's lap to feel the evidence of his dick, wants to push himself against it with an urgency that threatens to tear out of him in a plea as he's never done, never thought he could do — then fingers find his mouth, a familiar pressure across a slick pink tongue that slithers over them, yielding open to the invasive plunge. His teeth threaten to scrape Cy's knuckles so he parts his jaw wider and tries to take them obediently deep. Jagged, panting breath now comes around the intrusion, damp and desperate. Sasuke can feel how warm his face is from being pressed to the bed.
Another sound falls loose, this time stuffed and smothered by fingers in his mouth, when he feels that second penetration. It's mostly dry on the thin glide of spit, so it chafes, but that comes welcome against the rawness of his ass. Like two dull aches in tandem, split and then sewn back together. Muscles flex, then relax again, trying to prevent his hole from squeezing down with a needy effort of strength. His mouth is collecting a steady pool of saliva from the fingering.
There's no way to verbally respond, but his reaction is telling enough — the hand that encases the bell goes bloodlessly white with the force he uses to keep it in his fist.]
no subject
And Cy says he is hard because of it. He wants to squirm higher into the man's lap to feel the evidence of his dick, wants to push himself against it with an urgency that threatens to tear out of him in a plea as he's never done, never thought he could do — then fingers find his mouth, a familiar pressure across a slick pink tongue that slithers over them, yielding open to the invasive plunge. His teeth threaten to scrape Cy's knuckles so he parts his jaw wider and tries to take them obediently deep. Jagged, panting breath now comes around the intrusion, damp and desperate. Sasuke can feel how warm his face is from being pressed to the bed.
Another sound falls loose, this time stuffed and smothered by fingers in his mouth, when he feels that second penetration. It's mostly dry on the thin glide of spit, so it chafes, but that comes welcome against the rawness of his ass. Like two dull aches in tandem, split and then sewn back together. Muscles flex, then relax again, trying to prevent his hole from squeezing down with a needy effort of strength. His mouth is collecting a steady pool of saliva from the fingering.
There's no way to verbally respond, but his reaction is telling enough — the hand that encases the bell goes bloodlessly white with the force he uses to keep it in his fist.]