[ Give Alan credit for making sure everyone in an encounter enjoys himself! He's a generous god. And, perhaps, an overly solicitous one. He doesn't know exactly what satisfies the suits, and it seems logical enough that if he feels better after an orgasm, Baptiste will after his own.
He huffs laughter, dropping one hand beside him to lean on, trailing the fingers of the other over Baptiste's cheek. ]
"Sir," even. Good.
[ God, the sight is entrancing. Maybe this man's an actor? He's got a showman's touch that reminds Alan a little of Violet. He swallows himself, a moment after Baptiste does. ]
Good.
[ Soft and hoarse. His gaze flicks over the man at his feet, desperate to take in all the details for later. He sees a muscle clench in Baptiste's jaw; he sees oil fall from Baptiste's fingers to the floor in a fat drop. He sees Baptiste's cock and imagines it in his own hands, in his mouth, and the idea is enough to send another warm flush through him -- though not enough to actually revive him. ]
no subject
He huffs laughter, dropping one hand beside him to lean on, trailing the fingers of the other over Baptiste's cheek. ]
"Sir," even. Good.
[ God, the sight is entrancing. Maybe this man's an actor? He's got a showman's touch that reminds Alan a little of Violet. He swallows himself, a moment after Baptiste does. ]
Good.
[ Soft and hoarse. His gaze flicks over the man at his feet, desperate to take in all the details for later. He sees a muscle clench in Baptiste's jaw; he sees oil fall from Baptiste's fingers to the floor in a fat drop. He sees Baptiste's cock and imagines it in his own hands, in his mouth, and the idea is enough to send another warm flush through him -- though not enough to actually revive him. ]