[ Well, it's good to know that he's not the only one feeling like the only acceptable kind of oxygen happens to be the one he's breathing in from your lungs. ]
You're welcome.
[ His hands are going to slip lower, now that he's slicked his palm up with your cum. He's also going to gently massage that place where you've been asking him to pay attention to. ]
[ There's a stuttered sigh of relief/discomfort right up against the side of your face at that gesture, coupled with the unconscious flex of his fingers from where his wrists are bound and the buckle of his limbs. ]
Hard to do when you're so fucking good to me.
[ His insides are twisting up all over again, tightening his voice, seeping into his bloodstream once more, heating him up. ]
[ That singular movement of your tongue makes him quiver beneath you, and suck in another breath as his head presses back down on the pillows. It does not help, of course, that you still have him sitting right within the palm of your hand.
He tries, then, to frame your body with his limbs and keep you close. He's not completely down and spread over your sheets, and he has to try to do something about the way you've worked him up. ]
[ He never knew that the taste of someone's skin ( yours, he can't really think of anyone else ) could be so addictive, or that there was such a thing as a hunger that had nothing to do with actual food.
His eyes are looking back up your way as he kisses right over that spot, tongue swirling around the hardened nub, even as he's tracing lazy circles along the rim of your entrance.
He should have remembered the lube. He wants to feel the press of you around his fingers so bad. ]
[ And he wants your fingers hooked into him just as badly. Maybe you've noticed, with the way he squirms and how - in spite of the way he's biting down on his own lip - tiny, needy noises are bubbling up from his throat now with nearly every swirl of your tongue or circle of your fingers.
It doesn't take all that long before: ]
Please fuck me.
[ He's generally terrible at asking you for anything, even when you're in bed. Tonight seems to be the exception to the rule, doesn't it? ]
[ Your words elicit a sound that's somewhere between a sob and a helpless whine. His hips have taken a life of their own yet again, and you might be rather pleased to note the desperation in those eyes the moment they turn towards yours.
It hasn't been that long since you made him cum, yet his dick is already hard in your hand. He needs you so very badly, and your apparent decision to draw this out is just making that feeling worse. ]
[ Have another kiss then, as he shifts that grip of his so that he can stroke you more thoroughly. The look in your eyes is something he can drown in, because the idea that you need him, so much that it borders on desperation, is intoxicating. ]
Just hold on, babe. [ Murmuring that softly with the undertone of a promise. Let me draw this out. Let me make you feel good. Let me bring you higher. ] Just hold on for me.
[ He wants to spend a good portion of tonight kissing every last inch of you. ]
[ Have a tiny nod and another arch of his body towards yours. Please excuse him, Josh: he's more than a little overwhelmed.
Swallowing now, and attempting to get into riding on the crest of the pleasure that you're making him feel rather than let it burn him alive. It works, to an extent. That much will become obvious in how, after a few more strokes, the cadence of his breathing and the moans that leave his lips changes, growing a little deeper (a little heavier, as if they're truly full of you). ]
[ And he's going to end up absently bite down on his lower lips as he watches you, before he leans in to drop another kiss on your chest.
Excuse him, while he moves a little lower, those lips of his tracking a line down the center of your stomach. He's been wanting an opportunity to try this, but it used to be a little hard to remember that he wanted it when your hands would be so clever pretty much everywhere.
[ You'll hear as much as feel that little hitch in his lungs, and how it makes him quiver beneath your lips and teeth.
The pleasure's building again, quicker than earlier and melding with the feel of the belt digging into his wrists. That might explain the whimper that leaves his lips, and the knee-jerk resistance written in how his knees are trying to press together, as if his body cannot, for the moment, handle all of the attention that you're giving it.
It's not that he doesn't want this, Josh. It's that feeling this good tends to make him lose it, and that ingrained sense of control of his always trips him up when you push him this far. ]
[ His eyes are going to turn back to your face when he feels your knees press inward, when he catches that whimper on his ears.
Open-mouthed kisses now to hide the smile, right over that spot. And his tongue? Well, you're likely feeling the gentle flick of the tip over your navel, even as his grip around you tightens and the way he's stroking you slows. ]
[ There's another whimper, and a toss of his head against the pillows as the rest of him is squirming underneath your ministrations. The look on his face is breaking again as another wave of pleasure/discomfort washes over him. ]
Josh...
[ And then the rest of his voice tapers out into a whine. His cock is twitching in your grip, and already leaking with precum. And his knees are still trying to lock together. The slight tremor in his arms might indicate that he'd try to user them to hide away further, if he could. ]
Mm. [ That's a soft sound of acknowledgement just as he starts grazing tender little bites on the flesh right beneath your navel. He's veered a little to one side, because he feels you hard and hot in his hand and has taken to tracing the tip of you with two fingers.
He'll start sucking on your flesh now, hard enough to bruise, and in motions that mimic how he was sucking you off earlier. ]
[ He's watching all of this with so much helpless and desperation that its probably a little heartbreaking - or, perhaps for you, incredibly thrilling. He's trembling right down to his lips and the tips of his fingers and toes; each breath he draws in ends in a tiny sob.
The pace you're going at now is doing nothing but keeping him teetering right on the edge of a possible release. That does mean, of course, that everything, for him, is sweat-slicked skin, heat, the motions of your fingers and mouth.
He so badly needs to cum, but you're not getting him there yet, are you? Not until you've decided that you're done. You're terribly, horribly thorough that way. ]
[ Have a gentle and loving squeeze now, as he traces the vein along the underside of your cock with his thumb. His tongue is lapping quietly over that bruise and he's studying it for a moment, so much so that the way he's palming you in his hand seems like such an absent gesture.
The way you've been trembling beneath him, and the way your knees have been locking on either side of him has given him an idea.
A quick kiss now, before he moves away. ] Hold that thought for me, won't you?
[ Does he have to? He was just starting to think that if he focused enough on feeling through what you were doing to him, he might be able to get a little bit of relief.
He's shutting his eyes now, swallowing, trying to breathe. It feels hot and constricting in this room now, and in his own skin. ]
[ He won't take very long, if anything, he's reaching for the ties and holding one in each hand. There's a faint crease between his brows as he looks from one to the other and finally decides on the wider of the two.
Crawling back over you now and bracing his hands on either side of your torso, mouth slanting over yours as he breathes softly over your lips: ] Close your eyes and think of me?
[ It's a line that's cheesy as hell. But you told him anything he wanted, right? ]
[ And he can't help but watch your every move, all the way up until you're hovering over him yet again, and kissing him. When you've got him worked up like this, you're the one thing that can get him to relax, and - ironically - push him closer to the edge after each little crest.
There's an amused noise in the air between you both at your words, but he's obeying you nonetheless. The cadence of his breathing is still heavy with anticipation.
What a sight he must make in this moment: eyes shut, lips parted, limbs threaded with the tension of too much pleasure beneath the skin, cock hot and hard for you. ]
[ He's going to take in the look of you for a moment, eyes following the lines and curves that make up your face, the way your lashes seem to rest right above the apples of your cheeks and the way you're breathing. He'll brush his lips over your brow then, before he shifts so that he sits lightly over your thighs.
He'll bring that tie up now, press it flat over your eyes before he guides your head so that your chin comes close to your chest as he secures the makeshift blindfold past your ears and along the base of your head. ]
[ You doing that means that for a few moments, you're close enough to hear the way the air in his lungs hitches just so before they fall back into that rhythm that betrays the breadth and depth of his want - his need - for you.
He doesn't squirm, at least not too much. He's familiar with how it'll feel like, being fucked while not being able to see and not really being able to move. It actually turns him on even more because it inevitably throws him off of his game --
[ He'll confess that he's relieved that with you blindfolded like this you won't see the brief moment that he's second-guessing himself because to him you look incredibly calm, and while he had a pretty solid idea that this was something you'd like -- it's intimidating.
He's forgetting though, for the moment, that you don't need sight to be able to tell that something's making him pause just a little longer than it should; his heart skipped a beat there and it's not quite settled back to normal. He was also holding his breath long enough for you to pick up on the fact that he wasn't breathing for a fraction of a second. ]
[ There is the tiniest upward curve of your boy's lips once he's catching that. Times like this really do drive home the point that you're still so young in so many ways, yet you always strive to be incredibly careful with the things - the people - that matter to you.
It was perfectly normal for a boy like yourself to hesitate. You haven't been told that nearly enough, it seems. ]
[ He'll do just that, and if he holds back for a moment before he gives himself over to the dance of your mouths, it's only because he's feeling plenty overwhelmed. ]
I love you, [ those are his hands drifting up your torso now. ] I love you so much.
[ The way he's saying those words will betray just how he feels like they fall short of how you've crawled under his skin, seeped into his blood.
He's touching you again, the skim of his palms and the way his fingers ghost over you trembling with care. You're so precious to him. He only wishes he knew better how to express just how much. ]
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You're welcome.
[ His hands are going to slip lower, now that he's slicked his palm up with your cum. He's also going to gently massage that place where you've been asking him to pay attention to. ]
Don't hate me too much for it?
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Hard to do when you're so fucking good to me.
[ His insides are twisting up all over again, tightening his voice, seeping into his bloodstream once more, heating him up. ]
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That leaves other... areas to focus on.
He'll press his lips over your heart, and then turn his head so that he can move his tongue over your nipple. ]
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He tries, then, to frame your body with his limbs and keep you close. He's not completely down and spread over your sheets, and he has to try to do something about the way you've worked him up. ]
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His eyes are looking back up your way as he kisses right over that spot, tongue swirling around the hardened nub, even as he's tracing lazy circles along the rim of your entrance.
He should have remembered the lube. He wants to feel the press of you around his fingers so bad. ]
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It doesn't take all that long before: ]
Please fuck me.
[ He's generally terrible at asking you for anything, even when you're in bed. Tonight seems to be the exception to the rule, doesn't it? ]
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He'll feel you up again and press close, and then scrape teeth over skin for good measure. ]
And if I say 'not yet' again?
[ That's the drag of his fingers as he grips you, and then the press of his palm as he moves rhat grip right back down. ]
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It hasn't been that long since you made him cum, yet his dick is already hard in your hand. He needs you so very badly, and your apparent decision to draw this out is just making that feeling worse. ]
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Just hold on, babe. [ Murmuring that softly with the undertone of a promise. Let me draw this out. Let me make you feel good. Let me bring you higher. ] Just hold on for me.
[ He wants to spend a good portion of tonight kissing every last inch of you. ]
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Swallowing now, and attempting to get into riding on the crest of the pleasure that you're making him feel rather than let it burn him alive. It works, to an extent. That much will become obvious in how, after a few more strokes, the cadence of his breathing and the moans that leave his lips changes, growing a little deeper (a little heavier, as if they're truly full of you). ]
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Excuse him, while he moves a little lower, those lips of his tracking a line down the center of your stomach. He's been wanting an opportunity to try this, but it used to be a little hard to remember that he wanted it when your hands would be so clever pretty much everywhere.
Is your boy nipping around your navel? Yep. ]
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The pleasure's building again, quicker than earlier and melding with the feel of the belt digging into his wrists. That might explain the whimper that leaves his lips, and the knee-jerk resistance written in how his knees are trying to press together, as if his body cannot, for the moment, handle all of the attention that you're giving it.
It's not that he doesn't want this, Josh. It's that feeling this good tends to make him lose it, and that ingrained sense of control of his always trips him up when you push him this far. ]
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Open-mouthed kisses now to hide the smile, right over that spot. And his tongue? Well, you're likely feeling the gentle flick of the tip over your navel, even as his grip around you tightens and the way he's stroking you slows. ]
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Josh...
[ And then the rest of his voice tapers out into a whine. His cock is twitching in your grip, and already leaking with precum. And his knees are still trying to lock together. The slight tremor in his arms might indicate that he'd try to user them to hide away further, if he could. ]
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He'll start sucking on your flesh now, hard enough to bruise, and in motions that mimic how he was sucking you off earlier. ]
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The pace you're going at now is doing nothing but keeping him teetering right on the edge of a possible release. That does mean, of course, that everything, for him, is sweat-slicked skin, heat, the motions of your fingers and mouth.
He so badly needs to cum, but you're not getting him there yet, are you? Not until you've decided that you're done. You're terribly, horribly thorough that way. ]
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The way you've been trembling beneath him, and the way your knees have been locking on either side of him has given him an idea.
A quick kiss now, before he moves away. ] Hold that thought for me, won't you?
[ Now where'd those ties go... ]
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He's shutting his eyes now, swallowing, trying to breathe. It feels hot and constricting in this room now, and in his own skin. ]
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Crawling back over you now and bracing his hands on either side of your torso, mouth slanting over yours as he breathes softly over your lips: ] Close your eyes and think of me?
[ It's a line that's cheesy as hell. But you told him anything he wanted, right? ]
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There's an amused noise in the air between you both at your words, but he's obeying you nonetheless. The cadence of his breathing is still heavy with anticipation.
What a sight he must make in this moment: eyes shut, lips parted, limbs threaded with the tension of too much pleasure beneath the skin, cock hot and hard for you. ]
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He'll bring that tie up now, press it flat over your eyes before he guides your head so that your chin comes close to your chest as he secures the makeshift blindfold past your ears and along the base of your head. ]
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He doesn't squirm, at least not too much. He's familiar with how it'll feel like, being fucked while not being able to see and not really being able to move. It actually turns him on even more because it inevitably throws him off of his game --
-- but you knew that already, didn't you? ]
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He's forgetting though, for the moment, that you don't need sight to be able to tell that something's making him pause just a little longer than it should; his heart skipped a beat there and it's not quite settled back to normal. He was also holding his breath long enough for you to pick up on the fact that he wasn't breathing for a fraction of a second. ]
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It was perfectly normal for a boy like yourself to hesitate. You haven't been told that nearly enough, it seems. ]
Kiss me?
[ Let him show you that it's all right. ]
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I love you, [ those are his hands drifting up your torso now. ] I love you so much.
[ The way he's saying those words will betray just how he feels like they fall short of how you've crawled under his skin, seeped into his blood.
He's touching you again, the skim of his palms and the way his fingers ghost over you trembling with care. You're so precious to him. He only wishes he knew better how to express just how much. ]
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