Claude moves off him, the loss of friction almost painfully abrupt, pleasure still lingering in his nerves. His cock is feeling smoother now, a coating of precome making everything slippery and somewhat sticky. He doesn’t remove his hand right away, the heat against his cock a slight relief in the absence of better stimulation. At Claude’s words, he raises an eyebrow at him, lips curving upwards lightly. For once, however, he doesn’t comment on it because there’s nothing of value to say – instead, he rolls over onto his stomach, shifting his hips a bit to get comfortable. With his hard cock trapped against the mattress and all.

Folding his arms beneath his head on top of the pillow, he glances sideways at Claude. He doesn’t have to ask, clearly, if he knows where to stick it. That’s a plus. On the other hand, there’s always an element of excitement about having penetrative sex with someone you don’t know the least thing about; and so far, this date is the best investment he’s made for months. He’s confident that it’ll be good. If nothing else, he knows how to make it work. For the both of them.

He reaches for one of the condoms, holding it out for Claude. He appreciates that he doesn’t have to insist on using protection; for some reason, over the past decade people have become more lax about it, as if going bare-back is something to strive for. Fucking nasty amateurs.