[ There's enough oil on Baptiste's fingers still to make the touch slick. Alan shudders. ]
Yes, fuck, please.
[ What's he supposed to call him? Not "boy," and certainly not any of the really sharpened barbs he'd throw around with Jack. You can't just pull out gutter-filth on a man you don't know. Not while he's got your prick in his mouth and his hand at your short and curlies. ]
You bloody devil.
[ Yes -- yes, that feels all right, even if it comes out shaky. He feels Baptiste's tongue slide up under the head of his cock, where his foreskin is mostly drawn back, and his fingers spasm in Baptiste's hair. ]
no subject
Yes, fuck, please.
[ What's he supposed to call him? Not "boy," and certainly not any of the really sharpened barbs he'd throw around with Jack. You can't just pull out gutter-filth on a man you don't know. Not while he's got your prick in his mouth and his hand at your short and curlies. ]
You bloody devil.
[ Yes -- yes, that feels all right, even if it comes out shaky. He feels Baptiste's tongue slide up under the head of his cock, where his foreskin is mostly drawn back, and his fingers spasm in Baptiste's hair. ]