Izzy presses him back, all threat and promise wrapped in a nice little leather package. Lucius doesn't resist any of his touches or movements, doesn't flinch as that leather-clad hand settles against his face and that thumb parts his lips, presses against his teeth. Izzy doesn't want him to talk, then? That's fine, he can be quiet--after a fashion.
That beard burns the skin between the slide of Izzy's mouth and Lucius grins against his thumb. Each nip earns a shiver, unguarded, each shift of his mouth a little press forward, up and into him, responsive as those stupid flowers in the sun. Lucius has nothing to be ashamed of in this and, as though he is eager to prove that, he gives to the press of Izzy's thumb and takes it into his mouth, lets it rest on his tongue so he can draw it between his lips and suck.
He has nothing to do with his hands and, frankly, that's a pity. He abandons the wet cloth to the floor and the remaining water drips down the length of his body. He shouldn't be so hot and bothered so quickly--he's incorrigible, but even he has a refractory period...except, apparently, he does not. Not today, it seems. He can already feel his cock twitching and wonders if he'll be able to go again.
As he ponders his prick, Lucius tests what Izzy is willing to give him. Will he allow a hand on his hip, fingers tucked into the leather waistband of his trousers? Will he let Lucius's other hand settle on his shoulder? Neck? Curl into his mussed up hair?
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2022-06-19 02:59 am (UTC)That beard burns the skin between the slide of Izzy's mouth and Lucius grins against his thumb. Each nip earns a shiver, unguarded, each shift of his mouth a little press forward, up and into him, responsive as those stupid flowers in the sun. Lucius has nothing to be ashamed of in this and, as though he is eager to prove that, he gives to the press of Izzy's thumb and takes it into his mouth, lets it rest on his tongue so he can draw it between his lips and suck.
He has nothing to do with his hands and, frankly, that's a pity. He abandons the wet cloth to the floor and the remaining water drips down the length of his body. He shouldn't be so hot and bothered so quickly--he's incorrigible, but even he has a refractory period...except, apparently, he does not. Not today, it seems. He can already feel his cock twitching and wonders if he'll be able to go again.
As he ponders his prick, Lucius tests what Izzy is willing to give him. Will he allow a hand on his hip, fingers tucked into the leather waistband of his trousers? Will he let Lucius's other hand settle on his shoulder? Neck? Curl into his mussed up hair?