[ There's discomfort in this, doing it until someone finally gives in, but Dorian has sometimes find -- as he finds now -- that there's a hedonistic enjoyment to be sapped from this. He is more distinctly aware of his own aching erection, trapped between his own body and the slightly too soft give of the chaise cushions, than he is as to the stretch and ache in his jaw beginning to develop.
The most he permits himself are little movements to soak up some friction, offer a little relief. Otherwise, his presence is here, between Zevran's legs, hands grasping and moaning around his cock. Saliva gathers thick at the corners of his mouth, and he can taste the sharp, bitter suggestion for pre-ejaculate, which is swallowed between slides.
His eyes remain shut, relaxed, but his fingers knead, more feeling Zevran's upward, hindered twitches upwards than trying to stop them. ]
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The most he permits himself are little movements to soak up some friction, offer a little relief. Otherwise, his presence is here, between Zevran's legs, hands grasping and moaning around his cock. Saliva gathers thick at the corners of his mouth, and he can taste the sharp, bitter suggestion for pre-ejaculate, which is swallowed between slides.
His eyes remain shut, relaxed, but his fingers knead, more feeling Zevran's upward, hindered twitches upwards than trying to stop them. ]