[ The thought that Bruce might want more from him in the future is a thrilling one. After all, they'd teased each other about that back in the kitchen and while the man claims he doesn't always have the time for moments like this, Barry will take any and all that he can take from the man and lap them up in ways he would he cum spilling from his cock. He wants more of this. More of Bruce. He wants all of this for himself.
A loll of his head, he rides him a little harder, head hanging between his shoulders as eyes keep shut, and lips continue to give the other man those pleased little sounds to show how much he enjoys riding him like he is. ]
Mm, fucking me so good.
[ Shifting, he leans himself back, letting hands fall to the other man's thighs and he moves against him, robe open and cock bouncing with every of his hips. Barry's eyes fall shut, lips parting with breathless little gasps, head knocking back as he rides him hard and slow and just takes that cock as much as he can β lets it stretch him even more than he's already been. He loves it. Loves how slow and hard this all is. ]
You're doing most of it, [ Bruce points out, breathless. Not so much fucking him as laying there exerting effort to hold still, to not rock his hips up into that perfect clench around his cock. And then Barry does that and Bruce groans, shifting his weight beneath him. A restless tense and release as he stares at him, his gaze fixed, glassy with arousal.
He doesn't snap his hands forward, but he does lower them. Deliberately sets them on Barry's knees where they're straddled over him, and he palms up his thighs to the curve of his hips. Not pulling him down, just holding there, pressing fingers into the meat of him around the strong arch of his iliac bones. Beneath him, every expanse of Bruce's body is almost too muscular to be comfortable, but at least stable. Barry looks so good speared on his cock, sweating and needy and enjoying himself, his own hard and swaying in front of him. Christ. He can't help it, and squeezes his sides harder, rumbling a low moan. ]
You look like this is exactly where you're supposed to be.
[ Getting stuffed and stretched and filled. Bruce feels a curl of possessive desireβ he won't let himself act on it, knowing better, but he can imagine for a moment. Keeping him, just for this. Just for fucking him every time he falls back into bed, in the muddied morning light. ]
[ Barry can feel some part of him slip away the more he rides that cock he's fed. That awkward, sheepish part of him replaced by a more confident β a more slutty and playful side of him that adores the way Bruce fucks him and the sex they've had over the course of however many hours it's been now. Four times in one go, in a way, with a fifth on the way here. It's the most sex he's ever had and he feels addicted to how good it all is β where he doesn't have to think about anything else. Just the way Bruce and that cock make him feel.
Slowing in how he moves against him, he looks down to Bruce then, licking over his lips at those words stir something a little more slutty within him. ]
You want me to be here? Taking your cock whenever you want?
[ With a slow roll of his hips, he rocks against that lap in a way that's painfully good even for him and moans as he lets his head fall back again, just staying like that and feeling how full he is with having the entire length of that cock inside him.
When he finally finds it within himself to look back down to the man with face flushed and skin slick with sweat, he hums quietly to himself and begins to slowly roll those hips of his again on that lap. Watching Bruce with eyes heavy in their desire. ]
Want you to breed me. Want your cock to be the only one I want.
[ Falling forward, he braces himself on his hands and kisses Bruce. Deeply. Rocking harder and quicker against that cock as he feels his own twitching from how badly he wants to come. ]
Fuck me, Bruce. Fuck me and make me yours.
[ Words he trails with open-mouthed kisses along the other man's chin and over his lips, rocking harder, harder, harder as he bounces back on that cock like it's all he needs right now. Like being fucked by this man is the only thing that matters to him and the only thing that can give him what he needs deep down. ]
Wanna come for you. Want you to be the reason I come.
[ When Barry takes him in and holds there like that, Bruce grabs his hips, hard, clenching there, groaning something strangled. The brief concern that sparks in him about the younger man hurting himself is immediately burned away when he starts talking. Jesus fuck.
He can'tβ
So he doesn't. Bruce moves, rocking up into those desperate rocks down. Holding Barry and pulling him onto his cock, helping him move back up, not letting him get too far away. He can feel the younger man's cock against his abdomen, like an iron brand. He wants to watch him come, feel it make a mess everywhere. In his mind's eye he sees himself taking it in hand and stroking him until he finishes, but like the thought of holding still, he discards that, too.
A quick movement to flip them over and pin Barry on his back, still buried deep inside of him, like there's nowhere else for his cock to be. He pushes one of his legs up, knee by his head, the other free, and fucks into him, hard. Harder. Kisses him with breathless, messy kisses, curled over him, caging him in.
(Where the fuck did you learn to talk like that.)
He doesn't say anything. With one hand occupied at the back of his knee, he moves the other - not to his straining dick, not yet, but to the side of his face. Tender in stark contrast. Just for a moment. ]
[ Slutty little repeats of yes, yes, yes spill from his lips over and over again every single time Bruce forces him to take that cock and he loves it. He loves being filled and fucked by this man and his cock. He swears he could take it forever and never get tired of it β that he could be such a good fuck for Bruce and let him stick his dick in whatever hole of his he wants. He'd take it. He'd take it and love it and thank him for it with being an eager little mess until he couldn't think anymore and even then, he'd let Bruce keep going if he wanted. That's how much he loves this and needs this. How much he needs this man like this. Thick and hard inside him, stretching him to the point where he's the perfect fit for him.
That touch to his face is met with a brush of wet lips over the heel of his palm, the speedster humming into that hand as lips part and he gasps even louder as he's roughly fed that cock, eyes fluttering open to stare up to the other man with nothing but a glassy desire of his own. ]
Gonna breed me so good. No one else is gonna be able to have me. Just you.
[ Lips tremble against Bruce's as he whines, head tilting back hard against the bed as he starts to feel himself unravel from the inside. Reaching between them, he grasps his own cock in pure desperation of getting himself and shakily pumps himself the best he can as he's rocked into hard and rough and to the point where he can barely think anymore. ]
Tell me I can come β please, I wanna come for you.
[ The way Bruce's mind works - catching on every little thing, remembering in precise detail, dissecting it - attempts to go on a detour to consider the exact mechanics of breeding him. It doesn't get far, he manages to knock it back into the depths of the BatMind Palace, ignored. Too occupied, senses full of Barry, his body, the way he sounds. (Still. For a split second. What a different thread this would be if this giant nerd stopped and had to ask a question.) (Which is not a read on Barry's choice of dirty talk. It's a read on Bruce's thought process.)
But it does catch onβ
Just you.
Takes him longer to shove that one away. People say all kinds of shit when they're getting their brains fucked out. One reason why Bruce tries not to talk too much.
Barry wants to come. Bruce does, too. But more than that he just wants that - which is more. And so he shoves forward and holds there in place, a flipped image of what Barry had done when he was riding him still. He moves his hand away from his place and uses it to pull Barry's own away from his cock. Presses it back by his head.
[ Oh, but Bruce. Deep down you know he means it, don't you? Know that he'd do almost anything for you. It's not just because of how good you can fuck him or the fact that you're his first like this. It's a little more than that and you'd think someone claiming to be such a good detective would know judging from the way Barry not only looks, but handles someone he clearly cares about.
But maybe it's easier to just pretend none of that exists and that's it all, one hundred percent, filth leaving his lips with getting his brains fucked out. Sure. Let's go with that.
For now.
When Bruce holds himself there like that, the sound that Barry makes β a desperate whine that practically rings throughout the entire bedroom as he begs through his displeasure at the other man having stopped. ]
No. Please don't.
[ I'm so close. He whimpers pathetically as he pulls up some of the sheets, frustration bubbling over at having lost those hard thrusts and he feels as if he might lose his mind. He squirms, heels digging into the mattress, and he whimpers a little more, lips trembling and eyes squeezed shut.
When Bruce starts moving again, it's deep and it's slow and it makes Barry whine even louder at how unfair he's being. ]
I need to touch myself. Please. I wannaβ wanna touch myself.
[ Hours ago he'd have stopped at that cry, the desperate No, but right now he takes it as a compliment over how badly Barry wants to get off. It just twists inside of him, tighter, hotter, makes him push him down more, hand against the younger man's, full weight pressing against - in - his body. ]
Now you want to touch yourself?
[ His voice is quiet, a soft counter to strained whining. Gentle and coaxing. I thought you were refusing to. He hitches his hips up, giving him a short, rough jolt, watching his cock bounce from the wave of it. Digging into his ass as if it were actually possible to get deeper; his own hard length practically painful for how much he wants to come, too, but completely transfixed by Barry despite it.
Bruce eases up his grip on Barry's hand, but doesn't pull it away. ]
Or do you want me to do it?
[ He drags his cock back, almost completely out, pushes in again. Hoists Barry's knee back higher, folding him, feeling his cock pressed against his abs. ]
[ The rough jolt has Barry whining, head tilting back and body trembling beneath the other man. It's so good. Bruce is so good and such a fucking tease he hates it. He hates it but he loves it and he wants more of this and this man here inside him. Figures he'd find a way to take back control and leave the speedster a whimpering mess there on his bed. His speedy mind makes a mental note to get him back for this in the future, but he can't really bring himself to care that much right now.
He has much bigger things to worry about.
Bigger things that need to be pumping him full of cock. ]
Touch me. Please.
[ The please is a breathless little gasp, back arching up into the other man as much as he can as he squirms there beneath him. Needing to be touched β needing to be fucked. Anything. Just as long as he gets something from the other man when he's so close to the point it almost hurts. In a good way, mind you, but still. He wants to come. ]
[ Bruce gives him a kiss, almost sweet, but far from chaste. Licking into his mouth, tongue against his. Hungry. Letting Barry feel how wound up he is, too, even if he's keeping himself so unnervingly together. He still lost his patience and flipped them over like this; he just feels too good. Making Bruce unravel.
He keeps hold of the younger man's hand for a moment as he gets back into it, fucking him, slow and steady at first, building it back up. Staying close over him. (He'll have to delete security footage after this; nothing looks into his bedroom area exactly, but audio surveillance will have picked up Barry's noises. And in that time, will he rewatch it? Listen? Relive this?)
It's allβ
A lot. Just his harsh breathing, skin on skin, wet noises. Bruce moves his hand and curls it around Barry's cock. Looks at his face. Fucks him like there's no other point to him being alive. ]
[ Being fucked like there's no other point in being alive is something Barry can absolutely get behind and if Bruce was ever up for it, he's sure he could just stay in his bed for the entire day and little to nothing else but fuck and be fucked. Of course, Bruce lacks the quick recovery time Barry is in possession of, but. Doesn't mean he wouldn't find other ways to amuse himself.
Still, for now, this is good. This is really fucking good.
Barry's a little lost in the adrenaline that courses through his veins at the moment β at the way Bruce so thoroughly fucks him as if he's meant for this. Meant to be a slutty little mess of sweat and sounds to please and stroke Bruce's ego in every sexual way possible.
But when Bruce tells him to come β when he lets him know that he wants him to, Barry finds his breath catching in the back of his throat as he moves against the other man the best he can, face flushed with sweat clinging to his temples and forehead.
He tries to say something β he really does, but words are lost to him as he feels his orgasm right there, so close, and with Bruce telling him he can come, he gives in to what the other man asks of him and falls apart beneath him. He's a beautiful mess β a vibrating mess of cum and sweat and slutty little sounds as he paints his stomach with thick ropes of cum, unabashed by how loud he is through it all, showing Bruce just how much he loves to be fucked and bred and made to take his cock like the good boy that he is. Like the good boy he wants to be for him. Like the good boy he hopes to be in taking every last drop he's forced to take when Bruce himself finally unravels inside him. ]
[ Bruce has fucked a lot of people, but none like Barry. It's not just that the way he moves - vibrates like that, making those noises - all the sex toy connotations, the unreal feel of it against his body and especially around his cock, but how not human he seems. And Bruce supposes he isn't, not really, not anymore. Lightning personified. (Never in a bottle. As he doesn't seem to be confined even by time itself.)
Feeling him climax like this, completely bare, so wound up, hits him harder than he could have anticipated. He almost trips right over the edge a second after him, an internal scramble that's parts long ingrained habit and parts frantic desire to have it not be over. The same selfish instinct that made him draw it out even when Barry was practically crying. Not yet. It's too good, you're too good.
Even when he knows he might push him too far. Wouldn't be the first time.
Barry's hot and messy between them, slick and beautiful, and Bruce wants to do just what he does, which is stroke him through it until he's milked everything there is, just for the pleasure of spreading his hand over it, the stick mess over his stomach. Sweat and come and aching desire. It makes him think about getting fucked, distantly, how he almost never lets anyone, and what it must feel like to love the sensation of something with such abandon. But the high he gets from putting lovers into this state is perhaps unbeatable.
He feels it pushing into the last forefront of consciousness. Under his fingernails. Everything strained to the finest edge. ]
[ The way this orgasm hits him feels so much >harder than the other four he's had hours ago. It tears through him in a way that makes him beg for more β makes him want to never stop being fucked like this whenever Bruce feels the need to fill a hole with his cock and the plethora of slutty little thoughts that ricochet around in his head even as he's milked and fucked into are enough to make him moan even louder than he already is, a good messy boy for Bruce.
Head tilts back, lips parted and sighs of pleasure spilling from them as he vibrates there against both the bed and the man above him, taking whatever he's given in strokes and thrusts and kisses and touches. He loves it all β loves the way this man shatters him in a way that leaves him flushed and satisfied and never wanting to be fucked by anyone else.
He really would just let it be Bruce. Really would be trained to take his cock in various ways and happily drink up whatever he's given. He doesn't even care if it makes him come off as a slut or a whore or whatever other thing he could be called. It's a sort of release he's needed for some time now and Bruce helps him get there β has helped him get there over the past however many hours.
Reaching up with his hands, he cradles the other man's face and kisses him. Hot and messy, a moan pressed into his mouth as he licks over him. ]
Training me so good to take your cock. [ He breathes, moaning again. ]
[ Bruce is stubbornβ helpful with Batman, less helpful in his personal life (what personal life?), and a tangled knot of both in bed. He's wrapped up in raw sexual pleasure, but he's wrapped up in focusing on Barry, too. Flickering like human-form lightning, vibrating, and the pure pornographic way he responds otherwise, is enough to make him almost lose it and come just like that, even before Barry's hands are framing his face. But that deep stubbornness digs its heels in without his say-so, cutting off involuntary functions. It feels like a strange gut-punch, edging himself for literally no reason.
Sorta hot, at least, but it does mean that he blinks down at Barry for a moment, dizzy. Hey, don't bother training yourself to control your own heartbeat, while you're training for dick. Does weird things to your neural pathways.
He returns those wet kisses, and then groans, letting his head drop forward. A rough exhale, mutter of fuck.
It's all just really good, is the thing. ]
So you're ready any time I want to push you over a counter and fuck you. [ He's still rocking into him, just slower. Still so fucking hard. ] Do you want me to come like this? Inside you? Get you all wet?
[ The thought of making a quick stop here in Gotham when Bruce feels the need to get his dick wet stirs a whole lot of filthy little feels inside the speedster and he moans like a good boy against that mouth as he's continuously rocked into, still waiting for Bruce to give in to his own pleasure he masochistically denies himself he's noticed. ]
Want you to make a mess of me, yeah. [ Stretching his head back a little, he cards fingers through that greying hair of Bruce's, holding to the back of his head as he meets those rocks he's given. ] Want to keep taking your cock like this. Fucking me so good β making me come so much.
[ No one else has left him a trembling, sweaty, cum-filled mess like Bruce has and he's already addicted to it β addicted to the way Bruce fucks him and makes him feel so good. It's a hundred times better than anything he's ever done to himself and he never wants it to stop... but he also wants Bruce to fill him up like a good boy. ]
Gonna lick you clean after you do. Make sure I get every last drop for myself.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
A loll of his head, he rides him a little harder, head hanging between his shoulders as eyes keep shut, and lips continue to give the other man those pleased little sounds to show how much he enjoys riding him like he is. ]
Mm, fucking me so good.
[ Shifting, he leans himself back, letting hands fall to the other man's thighs and he moves against him, robe open and cock bouncing with every of his hips. Barry's eyes fall shut, lips parting with breathless little gasps, head knocking back as he rides him hard and slow and just takes that cock as much as he can β lets it stretch him even more than he's already been. He loves it. Loves how slow and hard this all is. ]
no subject
He doesn't snap his hands forward, but he does lower them. Deliberately sets them on Barry's knees where they're straddled over him, and he palms up his thighs to the curve of his hips. Not pulling him down, just holding there, pressing fingers into the meat of him around the strong arch of his iliac bones. Beneath him, every expanse of Bruce's body is almost too muscular to be comfortable, but at least stable. Barry looks so good speared on his cock, sweating and needy and enjoying himself, his own hard and swaying in front of him. Christ. He can't help it, and squeezes his sides harder, rumbling a low moan. ]
You look like this is exactly where you're supposed to be.
[ Getting stuffed and stretched and filled. Bruce feels a curl of possessive desireβ he won't let himself act on it, knowing better, but he can imagine for a moment. Keeping him, just for this. Just for fucking him every time he falls back into bed, in the muddied morning light. ]
no subject
Slowing in how he moves against him, he looks down to Bruce then, licking over his lips at those words stir something a little more slutty within him. ]
You want me to be here? Taking your cock whenever you want?
[ With a slow roll of his hips, he rocks against that lap in a way that's painfully good even for him and moans as he lets his head fall back again, just staying like that and feeling how full he is with having the entire length of that cock inside him.
When he finally finds it within himself to look back down to the man with face flushed and skin slick with sweat, he hums quietly to himself and begins to slowly roll those hips of his again on that lap. Watching Bruce with eyes heavy in their desire. ]
Want you to breed me. Want your cock to be the only one I want.
[ Falling forward, he braces himself on his hands and kisses Bruce. Deeply. Rocking harder and quicker against that cock as he feels his own twitching from how badly he wants to come. ]
Fuck me, Bruce. Fuck me and make me yours.
[ Words he trails with open-mouthed kisses along the other man's chin and over his lips, rocking harder, harder, harder as he bounces back on that cock like it's all he needs right now. Like being fucked by this man is the only thing that matters to him and the only thing that can give him what he needs deep down. ]
Wanna come for you. Want you to be the reason I come.
no subject
He can'tβ
So he doesn't. Bruce moves, rocking up into those desperate rocks down. Holding Barry and pulling him onto his cock, helping him move back up, not letting him get too far away. He can feel the younger man's cock against his abdomen, like an iron brand. He wants to watch him come, feel it make a mess everywhere. In his mind's eye he sees himself taking it in hand and stroking him until he finishes, but like the thought of holding still, he discards that, too.
A quick movement to flip them over and pin Barry on his back, still buried deep inside of him, like there's nowhere else for his cock to be. He pushes one of his legs up, knee by his head, the other free, and fucks into him, hard. Harder. Kisses him with breathless, messy kisses, curled over him, caging him in.
(Where the fuck did you learn to talk like that.)
He doesn't say anything. With one hand occupied at the back of his knee, he moves the other - not to his straining dick, not yet, but to the side of his face. Tender in stark contrast. Just for a moment. ]
no subject
That touch to his face is met with a brush of wet lips over the heel of his palm, the speedster humming into that hand as lips part and he gasps even louder as he's roughly fed that cock, eyes fluttering open to stare up to the other man with nothing but a glassy desire of his own. ]
Gonna breed me so good. No one else is gonna be able to have me. Just you.
[ Lips tremble against Bruce's as he whines, head tilting back hard against the bed as he starts to feel himself unravel from the inside. Reaching between them, he grasps his own cock in pure desperation of getting himself and shakily pumps himself the best he can as he's rocked into hard and rough and to the point where he can barely think anymore. ]
Tell me I can come β please, I wanna come for you.
no subject
But it does catch onβ
Just you.
Takes him longer to shove that one away. People say all kinds of shit when they're getting their brains fucked out. One reason why Bruce tries not to talk too much.
Barry wants to come. Bruce does, too. But more than that he just wants that - which is more. And so he shoves forward and holds there in place, a flipped image of what Barry had done when he was riding him still. He moves his hand away from his place and uses it to pull Barry's own away from his cock. Presses it back by his head.
Looks at him. Think you can?
Rocks into him, deep and slow. ]
no subject
But maybe it's easier to just pretend none of that exists and that's it all, one hundred percent, filth leaving his lips with getting his brains fucked out. Sure. Let's go with that.
For now.
When Bruce holds himself there like that, the sound that Barry makes β a desperate whine that practically rings throughout the entire bedroom as he begs through his displeasure at the other man having stopped. ]
No. Please don't.
[ I'm so close. He whimpers pathetically as he pulls up some of the sheets, frustration bubbling over at having lost those hard thrusts and he feels as if he might lose his mind. He squirms, heels digging into the mattress, and he whimpers a little more, lips trembling and eyes squeezed shut.
When Bruce starts moving again, it's deep and it's slow and it makes Barry whine even louder at how unfair he's being. ]
I need to touch myself. Please. I wannaβ wanna touch myself.
no subject
Now you want to touch yourself?
[ His voice is quiet, a soft counter to strained whining. Gentle and coaxing. I thought you were refusing to. He hitches his hips up, giving him a short, rough jolt, watching his cock bounce from the wave of it. Digging into his ass as if it were actually possible to get deeper; his own hard length practically painful for how much he wants to come, too, but completely transfixed by Barry despite it.
Bruce eases up his grip on Barry's hand, but doesn't pull it away. ]
Or do you want me to do it?
[ He drags his cock back, almost completely out, pushes in again. Hoists Barry's knee back higher, folding him, feeling his cock pressed against his abs. ]
no subject
He has much bigger things to worry about.
Bigger things that need to be pumping him full of cock. ]
Touch me. Please.
[ The please is a breathless little gasp, back arching up into the other man as much as he can as he squirms there beneath him. Needing to be touched β needing to be fucked. Anything. Just as long as he gets something from the other man when he's so close to the point it almost hurts. In a good way, mind you, but still. He wants to come. ]
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He keeps hold of the younger man's hand for a moment as he gets back into it, fucking him, slow and steady at first, building it back up. Staying close over him. (He'll have to delete security footage after this; nothing looks into his bedroom area exactly, but audio surveillance will have picked up Barry's noises. And in that time, will he rewatch it? Listen? Relive this?)
It's allβ
A lot. Just his harsh breathing, skin on skin, wet noises. Bruce moves his hand and curls it around Barry's cock. Looks at his face. Fucks him like there's no other point to him being alive. ]
Come. I want you to.
no subject
Still, for now, this is good. This is really fucking good.
Barry's a little lost in the adrenaline that courses through his veins at the moment β at the way Bruce so thoroughly fucks him as if he's meant for this. Meant to be a slutty little mess of sweat and sounds to please and stroke Bruce's ego in every sexual way possible.
But when Bruce tells him to come β when he lets him know that he wants him to, Barry finds his breath catching in the back of his throat as he moves against the other man the best he can, face flushed with sweat clinging to his temples and forehead.
He tries to say something β he really does, but words are lost to him as he feels his orgasm right there, so close, and with Bruce telling him he can come, he gives in to what the other man asks of him and falls apart beneath him. He's a beautiful mess β a vibrating mess of cum and sweat and slutty little sounds as he paints his stomach with thick ropes of cum, unabashed by how loud he is through it all, showing Bruce just how much he loves to be fucked and bred and made to take his cock like the good boy that he is. Like the good boy he wants to be for him. Like the good boy he hopes to be in taking every last drop he's forced to take when Bruce himself finally unravels inside him. ]
no subject
Feeling him climax like this, completely bare, so wound up, hits him harder than he could have anticipated. He almost trips right over the edge a second after him, an internal scramble that's parts long ingrained habit and parts frantic desire to have it not be over. The same selfish instinct that made him draw it out even when Barry was practically crying. Not yet. It's too good, you're too good.
Even when he knows he might push him too far. Wouldn't be the first time.
Barry's hot and messy between them, slick and beautiful, and Bruce wants to do just what he does, which is stroke him through it until he's milked everything there is, just for the pleasure of spreading his hand over it, the stick mess over his stomach. Sweat and come and aching desire. It makes him think about getting fucked, distantly, how he almost never lets anyone, and what it must feel like to love the sensation of something with such abandon. But the high he gets from putting lovers into this state is perhaps unbeatable.
He feels it pushing into the last forefront of consciousness. Under his fingernails. Everything strained to the finest edge. ]
no subject
Head tilts back, lips parted and sighs of pleasure spilling from them as he vibrates there against both the bed and the man above him, taking whatever he's given in strokes and thrusts and kisses and touches. He loves it all β loves the way this man shatters him in a way that leaves him flushed and satisfied and never wanting to be fucked by anyone else.
He really would just let it be Bruce. Really would be trained to take his cock in various ways and happily drink up whatever he's given. He doesn't even care if it makes him come off as a slut or a whore or whatever other thing he could be called. It's a sort of release he's needed for some time now and Bruce helps him get there β has helped him get there over the past however many hours.
Reaching up with his hands, he cradles the other man's face and kisses him. Hot and messy, a moan pressed into his mouth as he licks over him. ]
Training me so good to take your cock. [ He breathes, moaning again. ]
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Sorta hot, at least, but it does mean that he blinks down at Barry for a moment, dizzy. Hey, don't bother training yourself to control your own heartbeat, while you're training for dick. Does weird things to your neural pathways.
He returns those wet kisses, and then groans, letting his head drop forward. A rough exhale, mutter of fuck.
It's all just really good, is the thing. ]
So you're ready any time I want to push you over a counter and fuck you. [ He's still rocking into him, just slower. Still so fucking hard. ] Do you want me to come like this? Inside you? Get you all wet?
no subject
Want you to make a mess of me, yeah. [ Stretching his head back a little, he cards fingers through that greying hair of Bruce's, holding to the back of his head as he meets those rocks he's given. ] Want to keep taking your cock like this. Fucking me so good β making me come so much.
[ No one else has left him a trembling, sweaty, cum-filled mess like Bruce has and he's already addicted to it β addicted to the way Bruce fucks him and makes him feel so good. It's a hundred times better than anything he's ever done to himself and he never wants it to stop... but he also wants Bruce to fill him up like a good boy. ]
Gonna lick you clean after you do. Make sure I get every last drop for myself.