“I almost like you like this-“ Tim starts softly, twisting on the bed and wrapping his long legs around that rather lovely waist.
“Don’t apologize,” he still interrupts, attempting to lift his spine a little higher for even more leverage.
“I wasn’t going-!”
And then Tim is pushing in, right in the middle of a sentence like the lovely boy he’s slowly becoming, and he is screaming again. Suddenly fully hard, it’s a remarkable skill, and with arousal tingling all over the place and almost with blood on fire except not because that is actually impossible.
“Insatiable,” Tim interrupts his train of thought from above, looking a little dazed and sweaty himself now that he almost concentrates.
…Almost.
Considering that he’s far more concerned with a slow arch of his hips that makes Tim sink ever deeper.
But, then, that turns out absolutely fine - for he’s screaming again and Tim is letting out a breathless grunt of his own and they’re actually moving. Jerky, unsteady thrusts that have him tilting his head against his arm and yanking against his chains with every little push.
It is brilliant, perfect, wonderful, all the other positive words that you can imagine…
And so he can half forgive Tim for coming first, since he has been going for far longer. Slamming into him with one long, slow final thrust, a tense tremble of his arms and his name mixed with a swear word in a way that was just meant to happen.
He, being insatiable, doesn’t take that long to come either, after all – soon following with a sudden brush of his cock up against Tim’s steadily relaxing belly, a harsh squeeze shut of his eyes and a quite wonderful screech that will hopefully wake at least a few of the neighbours.
“Chris,” Tim is mouthing shakily into his throat, in between tender little kisses that make him smile even as his limbs reach a state that can only be described as ‘entirely like jelly’, “Christ, Chris, Christ…”
…Adorable, “stop trying to convert me this early in the morning, Tim.”
A little chuckle, an entirely sweet flutter of air across his chest that has another smile bursting free from the hidden vault where he keeps them guarded by evil ninjas riding upon dragons…
And then Tim is sitting up, with a blurted “your circulation!”, and undoing him and really. Sometimes he does have to wonder about the man in between the amazing orgasms and the spying and the stolen handcuffs chaining him so wonderfully to various beds.
FILL: Appropriate Usage, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [3B/3]
“Don’t apologize,” he still interrupts, attempting to lift his spine a little higher for even more leverage.
“I wasn’t going-!”
And then Tim is pushing in, right in the middle of a sentence like the lovely boy he’s slowly becoming, and he is screaming again. Suddenly fully hard, it’s a remarkable skill, and with arousal tingling all over the place and almost with blood on fire except not because that is actually impossible.
“Insatiable,” Tim interrupts his train of thought from above, looking a little dazed and sweaty himself now that he almost concentrates.
…Almost.
Considering that he’s far more concerned with a slow arch of his hips that makes Tim sink ever deeper.
But, then, that turns out absolutely fine - for he’s screaming again and Tim is letting out a breathless grunt of his own and they’re actually moving. Jerky, unsteady thrusts that have him tilting his head against his arm and yanking against his chains with every little push.
It is brilliant, perfect, wonderful, all the other positive words that you can imagine…
And so he can half forgive Tim for coming first, since he has been going for far longer. Slamming into him with one long, slow final thrust, a tense tremble of his arms and his name mixed with a swear word in a way that was just meant to happen.
He, being insatiable, doesn’t take that long to come either, after all – soon following with a sudden brush of his cock up against Tim’s steadily relaxing belly, a harsh squeeze shut of his eyes and a quite wonderful screech that will hopefully wake at least a few of the neighbours.
“Chris,” Tim is mouthing shakily into his throat, in between tender little kisses that make him smile even as his limbs reach a state that can only be described as ‘entirely like jelly’, “Christ, Chris, Christ…”
…Adorable, “stop trying to convert me this early in the morning, Tim.”
A little chuckle, an entirely sweet flutter of air across his chest that has another smile bursting free from the hidden vault where he keeps them guarded by evil ninjas riding upon dragons…
And then Tim is sitting up, with a blurted “your circulation!”, and undoing him and really. Sometimes he does have to wonder about the man in between the amazing orgasms and the spying and the stolen handcuffs chaining him so wonderfully to various beds.