[Though people express varying opinions on the taste of cock, Vincent has always been convinced that what they're actually tasting is their own breath (unless they're in bed with someone nasty). The scent is personal - and distinctive, too. Claude smells hot and soft at the same time; comforting, kind of, with a touch of something sharper. Vincent loves it and he takes his time now, sliding his lips up and down Claude's shaft, his skin smooth and wet on his tongue.
When he draws back after another minute or so, he feels overheated and overwrought at the same time. Wanting more, wanting to take. Without disturbing Claude's hand in his hair, he pulls away from his cock and looks up at him, eyes narrowed a bit and expression tight.]
I want to fuck you. [He draws away more fully, wiping a hand across his mouth. Softens his voice a bit, words clipped enough as it is.] Turn around.
no subject
When he draws back after another minute or so, he feels overheated and overwrought at the same time. Wanting more, wanting to take. Without disturbing Claude's hand in his hair, he pulls away from his cock and looks up at him, eyes narrowed a bit and expression tight.]
I want to fuck you. [He draws away more fully, wiping a hand across his mouth. Softens his voice a bit, words clipped enough as it is.] Turn around.