[... oh fuck. Claude's so tight around his cock, so tight and so fucking hot. He tries to control his breathing and fails, utterly, everything coming out as pants and gasps. Glancing down, he watches the way Claude's arsehole stretches around his cock, helped along nicely by a mix of sweat, lube and precome. Fuck. This is impossibly good and it's lightening up every nerve in his body, forcing him completely out of his mind. As such, it takes him a moment to realise that Claude's spoken - and when he answers, he's already fulfilled his request, cock buried all the way to the base. He holds still with an effort, the need to get off so urgent now that every hesitation feels almost like torture.]
Alright?
[His voice is thick from arousal. He licks his lips, supporting himself with one hand against Claude's hip, the other running up and down his back in senseless patterns. Sweaty palm against equally sweaty skin.]
no subject
Alright?
[His voice is thick from arousal. He licks his lips, supporting himself with one hand against Claude's hip, the other running up and down his back in senseless patterns. Sweaty palm against equally sweaty skin.]