[ The only reason why he takes longer than he should is because touching himself to make him ready for you is it's own kind of torture. He takes it as an opportunity to let his gaze roam over your back, to drink in the sight of you flat against those sheets, ready and waiting.
He pulls his fingers out then, let's his hand move lower to where he can cup your balls as he shifts into a better position behind you, the hardness of his length hinting right up against your entrance.
He stops fondling you when his free hand comes around to close around your length, each upward stroke matched by mouthed kisses on your back or the sweep of his tongue over that ink on your skin.
His grip is firm and a little tight, and his hips are moving against yours, rubbing the hard and swollen length of him between the cheeks of your ass.
Close, yes, but not enough. He's not really doing this on purpose. Maybe. ]
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He pulls his fingers out then, let's his hand move lower to where he can cup your balls as he shifts into a better position behind you, the hardness of his length hinting right up against your entrance.
He stops fondling you when his free hand comes around to close around your length, each upward stroke matched by mouthed kisses on your back or the sweep of his tongue over that ink on your skin.
His grip is firm and a little tight, and his hips are moving against yours, rubbing the hard and swollen length of him between the cheeks of your ass.
Close, yes, but not enough. He's not really doing this on purpose. Maybe. ]