[ the truth of it, a truth that thomas has spent a long time hiding because it was not the sort of thing that was done, that a man of his station (or any man at all, really) ought to feel, the truth is that thomas loves this. loves being on his knees for another man, loves the weight of a cock on his tongue, the stretch of his mouth around it and the slight ache of his jaw, the pleasure he can give this way.
he loves this and his own cock is achingly hard with it. loves it so much that when william tugs at his hair in warning, he thinks about ignoring the implication, about doubling down his efforts instead of easing up. thinks about swallowing william down until he feels him spill down his throat, and moans with the thought--
but there are other things he loves, too, and william said something about unmaking the bed.
he pulls back, letting william linger on his tongue, on his lips as long as he can before pressing his face to william's thigh and just breathing through how badly he wants.
voice rough, ] Promise you'll fuck me into your sheets?
no subject
he loves this and his own cock is achingly hard with it. loves it so much that when william tugs at his hair in warning, he thinks about ignoring the implication, about doubling down his efforts instead of easing up. thinks about swallowing william down until he feels him spill down his throat, and moans with the thought--
but there are other things he loves, too, and william said something about unmaking the bed.
he pulls back, letting william linger on his tongue, on his lips as long as he can before pressing his face to william's thigh and just breathing through how badly he wants.
voice rough, ] Promise you'll fuck me into your sheets?