'Sugar.' A pet name that would've been met with an affectionate laugh were Baptiste not on the fringe of losing his mind. Instead, his amusement registers as a languid smile. Blonde lashes flutter, his eyes rolling as Chika guides him back upright - which allows for a new angle. The other's cock is driven deep inside before meeting that same spot once more.
Again and again, Baptiste's body bounces against the bucking of Chika's hips. Heat blossoms under the other's wandering touch, and Baptiste's own hands join in. One of his hands hovers over his own mouth, fingers ghosting over a hanging bottom lip. The other reaches to cradle the back of his own neck - as if trying to ground himself against the onslaught of sensation.
When Chika's hand finally wraps around Baptiste's cock, he lets out a cry. His cock twitches under the touch, already slick with a dribbled bead of precum. The line of his body bows to better show-off his chest. It glistens with a sheen of sweat, pink nipples presented for both Chika and the crowd.
"I want to. I want to-" Baptiste's voice eeks out between moans, eyes rolling. His hips shift to meet Chika's movements - though they lack the coordination he'd previously had. It's a gesture tinged with the desperation of a man too intoxicated with sensation to maintain control. Apparently, it's a trait the crowd picks up on. The cheers grow. Some shout in gleeful realizations, ranging from some declaring that Baptiste may just start to love losing - to others that urge Chika to fuck his new darling well. Not that Baptiste really registers any of the affectionate, dirty names that fall from the crowd. Instead, each and every bit of his attention is on Chika. Every arch of his body or grind of his hips- Baptiste's body winds into a tight tense, hand dropping from his mouth to fall into a light touch at Chika's forearm.
When he looks down at Chika? A wanton smile paired with the glowing flush of cheeks. Blue eyes convey a desperate need-
"Please- Please fill me up. Keep spoiling me with your-" Another gasp, a shudder. His next few words more breathy than the last, "Spoil me with your winning cock, please."
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Again and again, Baptiste's body bounces against the bucking of Chika's hips. Heat blossoms under the other's wandering touch, and Baptiste's own hands join in. One of his hands hovers over his own mouth, fingers ghosting over a hanging bottom lip. The other reaches to cradle the back of his own neck - as if trying to ground himself against the onslaught of sensation.
When Chika's hand finally wraps around Baptiste's cock, he lets out a cry. His cock twitches under the touch, already slick with a dribbled bead of precum. The line of his body bows to better show-off his chest. It glistens with a sheen of sweat, pink nipples presented for both Chika and the crowd.
"I want to. I want to-" Baptiste's voice eeks out between moans, eyes rolling. His hips shift to meet Chika's movements - though they lack the coordination he'd previously had. It's a gesture tinged with the desperation of a man too intoxicated with sensation to maintain control. Apparently, it's a trait the crowd picks up on. The cheers grow. Some shout in gleeful realizations, ranging from some declaring that Baptiste may just start to love losing - to others that urge Chika to fuck his new darling well. Not that Baptiste really registers any of the affectionate, dirty names that fall from the crowd. Instead, each and every bit of his attention is on Chika. Every arch of his body or grind of his hips- Baptiste's body winds into a tight tense, hand dropping from his mouth to fall into a light touch at Chika's forearm.
When he looks down at Chika? A wanton smile paired with the glowing flush of cheeks. Blue eyes convey a desperate need-
"Please- Please fill me up. Keep spoiling me with your-" Another gasp, a shudder. His next few words more breathy than the last, "Spoil me with your winning cock, please."