renaissanceman | (no subject)

Continued from here.

"Jesus, like the needles weren't making me hard enough," says Priestly, which is a whole other kink right there. "Tell me about what you did the other night, your fantastic sexual experience. The details."

"Oh, man, that's something I can exploit," he says, grinning. "MMM. Started off with truth and dare, usual shit, then I gave her head and fucked her on the floor in here. Tied her to the bed in the other room and fingered her until she nearly came.". He swabs over Priestly's skin. "Didn't let her."

"Denial," murmurs Priestly, and he's definitely got some experience with that. "Get ready to find out how that feels. Are you good at giving girls head? How do you do it?"

"Yeah, I'm good," he says, grinning. "I go slow, focus on her clit but not too much, you know, and I use my fingers."

"That's the way you've got to do it," agrees Priestly, and it's just pointless to even try to hide his arousal now. This is not just a casual conversation. "You've got to get right in there, you've got to commit to it. Guy or girl, you focus completely on what you're doing. Tell me more."

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Priestly reaches down, clamps a hand around Tunny's wrist and even though his thighs are trembling he still pulls Tunny's hand away and back to the chair again.

"I want to fuck you so hard," says Priestly, the words rushing out all on one breath. Next time, though. Next time.

His fingers flex under Priestly's grip and he's aware of panting, shifting his hips to get just a little friction for his aching dick.

"Fuck. Yes. Please."

It wouldn't surprise Priestly if he managed to get it up again pretty quickly, given how fucking turned on he still is, but not immediately. Not fast enough to get Tunny off.

"Take your pants off, but don't touch yourself," he says, straightening up slowly, uncurling his body from where it's been bent all around Tunny.

It's sort of awkward, fumbling out of his pants, careful not to touch his dick. He's still pretty fair skinned and his dick stands out, flushed and aching hard.

He doesn't do anything about his shirt because Priestly hasn't said to. He just sits back down, bare-assed in the chair.

It's not that Priestly doesn't know what to do with it. He knows very well what to do with it. But he still pauses and just looks, then squats down when he's sure his legs can handle it and just breathes against Tunny's thighs.

"Fuck."

He's got the sense not to move his hands - he's got a vague desire to misbehave and see what happens, to push his luck, just to see what happens, but not right now. He tips his head back, shifting his hips, watching the way his dick shifts.

He hasn't even entirely decided what he wants to do yet, whether he even is going to touch him, and licks a stripe up the inside of his thigh while he thinks about it. He just knows that it shouldn't be fast, not after all that build-up. Not after what he's promised.

Patience hasn't always been Tunny's strong suit, but he's doing his best now. He stays where he is, muscles in his belly tense as he struggles not to move.

"Lace your fingers behind your head," says Priestly, and pushes Tunny's shirt up himself so that he can swipe his tongue over Tunny's stomach, too. "Spread your thighs."

"Yessir," murmurs Tunny, but he does as told, tucking his hands behind head, spreading his legs wide to thoroughly expose himself.

That's the moment when Priestly doesn't push in closer or further but backs away, sits back on his heels and just looks at him, exposed and ready and untouched. Waiting.

Nobody ever really looks at Tunny that hard and he finds himself blushing, a little, though he keeps his gaze level.

"Okay, yeah," Priestly says finally, nipping lightly at the insider of Tunny's thigh before sitting back a little. "I want to watch you stroke yourself off a little. Slowly, don't rush it."

It reminds him of Kate, the fact she likes watching guys jerk off; sometimes, he feels like his life is full of echoes. Still, he grins, hand sliding down to wrap around his dick, stroking slowly, rubbing his thumb across the head.

"You like watching me doing this?" he asks. "It get you hot?"

"Slower," says Priestly instead of answering. As if he even has to say that yes, yes it is fucking hot, when the evidence is right there in front of both of them. "Don't talk. Just do what I tell you."

Slower. Right. He nods, arching his back, stroking his dick so slowly that it's almost painful. He swallows back a moan, hips lifting to push through his fingers.

Priestly wants to lose control a little, to give in and just blow him or something, but more than that he wants to make Tunny stay in control and follow orders.

"Put your fingers in your mouth," he says. "Your other hand. Put your fingers in your mouth and suck them good and wet."

He does as he's told immediately, slipping two fingers past his lips, sucking them as directed, as he carries on stroking his cock, his eyes locked on Priestly's face.

"Are they wet?" says Priestly. "Are they slick?" He doesn't wait for an answer, doesn't need one. "Use them on yourself. You know what I want you to do."