[ falling back is something he didn't account for, especially as a hand pushes him off balance. it's easy enough, considering the heat blooming through him, the arousal pushing up in all the right places. he makes a soft noise as he lands, fingers pulling to the tip of pinocchio's very generous cock, eyes trailing over the shape of it, how it strains (for him? for him, maybe. he hopes. he whines at the thought: his.)
his eyes flick upwards to meet p's face, his expression wanting, adoring - and it isn't just the food that's gotten to him, it's the overwhelming feeling of being back from that cold place he doesn't remember. now he's in reverse, on fire, wanting, anything but stone, so he gasps as hands touch him, climb down his supple body. he arches up into his nipples pebbling at sensation, sensitive, warm handfuls for p' to grasp onto before sliding down his waist and hips. ]
I do - I want you... inside, against, with me...
[ it's decadent, the contrast of warm palm and cool palm, but it's clear he doesn't shy away from it. (blade is cool to the touch, his mouth hot, his body a weapon that weighs heavily over him, for him - but he'd never treat him as such. it's not a foreign concept to him.) he's lost in a brief moment of thought until he realizes his thighs are pushed open, kees high and held open, inspecting.
inside. at the word, his hole twitches in anticipation, a bead of essence-laden slick already seeping out past his entrance. he's wet already, and whining now as lips find his collar, sternum, his chest. as the kiss strikes dead center of his nipple, he tips his head back, crown touching the daybed as he languishes every moment the other isn't inside of him.
(get ahold of yourself, he begs, but he can't. his hands find pinocchio's cock, tugging it closer to his hole, the other raking through the dark tresses of pinocchio's hair as he meets his eyes, his own blown wide and feverish. the necklace around his throat, looped twice with luminescent gem caught atop the rising and falling of his adam's apple, seems to flicker brightly in turn, his essence sharp and fluctuating. ]
I want you, [ the other hand tangles, strands in between his knuckles. ] please... kiss me...
woo yeah woo yeah woo yeah yeah woo time woo yeah!!
his eyes flick upwards to meet p's face, his expression wanting, adoring - and it isn't just the food that's gotten to him, it's the overwhelming feeling of being back from that cold place he doesn't remember. now he's in reverse, on fire, wanting, anything but stone, so he gasps as hands touch him, climb down his supple body. he arches up into his nipples pebbling at sensation, sensitive, warm handfuls for p' to grasp onto before sliding down his waist and hips. ]
I do - I want you... inside, against, with me...
[ it's decadent, the contrast of warm palm and cool palm, but it's clear he doesn't shy away from it. (blade is cool to the touch, his mouth hot, his body a weapon that weighs heavily over him, for him - but he'd never treat him as such. it's not a foreign concept to him.) he's lost in a brief moment of thought until he realizes his thighs are pushed open, kees high and held open, inspecting.
inside. at the word, his hole twitches in anticipation, a bead of essence-laden slick already seeping out past his entrance. he's wet already, and whining now as lips find his collar, sternum, his chest. as the kiss strikes dead center of his nipple, he tips his head back, crown touching the daybed as he languishes every moment the other isn't inside of him.
(get ahold of yourself, he begs, but he can't. his hands find pinocchio's cock, tugging it closer to his hole, the other raking through the dark tresses of pinocchio's hair as he meets his eyes, his own blown wide and feverish. the necklace around his throat, looped twice with luminescent gem caught atop the rising and falling of his adam's apple, seems to flicker brightly in turn, his essence sharp and fluctuating. ]
I want you, [ the other hand tangles, strands in between his knuckles. ] please... kiss me...