[ The fingers he has curled around that post are gripping tight, his knuckles white from the strain. He can feel his cock leaking, his thighs trembling and a thin sheen of sweat has broken out all over his skin. There's a tiny sound of protest when your hand misses the place he needs you the most right now and a whimper/gasp escapes him when your tongue traces the curve of his ear.
He feels tight all over, muscles quivering from keeping still because as of this instant, the slightest movement feels like it could only make him feel worse.
Since he can't move his head, it's his spine that curves like a bow, as if he were both leaning into you and caving in on himself.
This is torture, love, but he's holding off as best as he can and biting down on his lip to keep his word that he'll not make a sound. But for God's sake, it would be such sweet relief if you would actually touch him. ]
no subject
He feels tight all over, muscles quivering from keeping still because as of this instant, the slightest movement feels like it could only make him feel worse.
Since he can't move his head, it's his spine that curves like a bow, as if he were both leaning into you and caving in on himself.
This is torture, love, but he's holding off as best as he can and biting down on his lip to keep his word that he'll not make a sound. But for God's sake, it would be such sweet relief if you would actually touch him. ]