Oh, Christ. Vincent shudders, his mouth completely full and Claude’s voice filling his mind, in turn. Eyes fluttering shut, he runs his palm up and down the shaft a few times, strokes long and slow. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than someone physically, literally, ramming their cock down his throat – not just for him, mind, but imagine what a bad result they’d get. Him choking on the whole thing and them getting nothing for his troubles. But the words themselves sure sound like heaven. With his orgasm still lingering in every limb, he’s feeling awfully relaxed about the whole ordeal, really – confident, too, in a way that feels equal parts natural and amazing. When has he last felt truly confident – truly – about anything? Clearly, this is something he’s meant to do. Sucking Claude’s beautiful cock down his throat.
Deciding that trying can’t hurt, Vincent takes a deep breath through his nose and starts taking in Claude’s cock inch by inch, feeling the way his mouth and jaw strain against the intrusion. Feeling Claude thrust against his mouth just a little bit and going along with the movement, he lets himself get penetrated, Claude’s cock slipping over his tongue and past his palate. Amusingly enough, the taste of him changes along the way – the salty taste of sweat and arousal intensifying along with the feel of hard, heated flesh filling his mouth to the brim. Then, quite suddenly, his body simply stops – ceases the movement, ceases breathing, everything. Before he can truly register it, his eyes start watering up as his throat closes, his body basically choking on his new, favourite dish.
Well, then.
There are two solutions. Spit it out – or get used to it. Seeing as Vincent’s got no intentions of letting go of his prize anytime soon, he instead pulls back very, very slowly, just enough to take the pressure off his throat. The head of Claude’s cock feels immense, pushing up against the back of his mouth and he can’t help it – he moans around its length, a deep, hoarse sound of pleasure and lets it go right back down, ignoring his protesting body because God, this is too good for hesitation. It’s. Too. Good.
no subject
Deciding that trying can’t hurt, Vincent takes a deep breath through his nose and starts taking in Claude’s cock inch by inch, feeling the way his mouth and jaw strain against the intrusion. Feeling Claude thrust against his mouth just a little bit and going along with the movement, he lets himself get penetrated, Claude’s cock slipping over his tongue and past his palate. Amusingly enough, the taste of him changes along the way – the salty taste of sweat and arousal intensifying along with the feel of hard, heated flesh filling his mouth to the brim. Then, quite suddenly, his body simply stops – ceases the movement, ceases breathing, everything. Before he can truly register it, his eyes start watering up as his throat closes, his body basically choking on his new, favourite dish.
Well, then.
There are two solutions. Spit it out – or get used to it. Seeing as Vincent’s got no intentions of letting go of his prize anytime soon, he instead pulls back very, very slowly, just enough to take the pressure off his throat. The head of Claude’s cock feels immense, pushing up against the back of his mouth and he can’t help it – he moans around its length, a deep, hoarse sound of pleasure and lets it go right back down, ignoring his protesting body because God, this is too good for hesitation. It’s. Too. Good.