[ Oh that isn't fair- and yet he cannot complain. At this point the anticipation of actual touch will likely drive him far and wild before Bull ever takes him in hand. Again he angles his head, his throat, trying for more while not moving at all, thigh tense under his hand not out of fear. Maker, no. Trembling, tightly wound like a horse.
He wants in a way he hasn't for a few months at least. Perhaps longer. ]
Yes. And you know it.
[ He turns his head enough to offer Bull a coy smile, hips canting toward him as much as he's able in this position. ]
no subject
He wants in a way he hasn't for a few months at least. Perhaps longer. ]
Yes. And you know it.
[ He turns his head enough to offer Bull a coy smile, hips canting toward him as much as he's able in this position. ]