Takeshi laughed. "Maybe not, but co

Takeshi laughed. "Maybe not, but could I do this if you did?" He ran his lips along the crest of Kyouya's hip, nuzzling skin that was still damp from the shower as he followed it down to where Kyouya's cock was already beginning to stir and fill. Kyouya made a soft sound, the breath hissing between his teeth as Takeshi slid his mouth down the length of his cock to tease his tongue over the head, back and forth, tracing the shape of it. He settled his hand on Takeshi's head, the weight of it pressing him forward. Takeshi would have laughed again, but it was better to slide his mouth around the head of Kyouya's cock and suck it between his lips and listen to the way Kyouya's breath caught as he went hard between one heartbeat and the next. Takeshi curved his hands around Kyouya's ass, cradling it in his palms as Kyouya curled his fingers in his hair, and opened his mouth wider as Kyouya rolled his hips forward.

That earned him the barest huff of a snort; when he glanced up, Kyouya was watching him, eyes half-veiled and glittering beneath his lashes. He slid his fingers through Takeshi's hair, curling them around the back of Takeshi's skull, and pushed deeper, crowding against him until Takeshi had to swallow him down. He hummed around Kyouya's cock, nuzzling Kyouya's stomach and inhaling the faint scent of the soap that lingered on his skin. Then Kyouya gripped his hair and shifted his hips, rocking them back and forth, fucking Takeshi's mouth and holding him still for it. Takeshi hummed again, sliding his fingers over the blades of Kyouya's hips, spreading them against the smooth skin of his ass and feeling the way his muscles moved with every slow flex of his hips. Kyouya was flushed over him, his expression as intent as the way he moved; the sight stole Takeshi's breath as heat twined through him.

Takeshi lifted one of his hands from Kyouya's hips, meaning to reach down and undo his fly, but Kyouya caught his hand. "No," he said, voice gone husky, which was enough to send heat stabbing through Takeshi. He moaned around Kyouya's cock as Kyouya pressed forward again, moving his hips in short little hitches, fucking Takeshi's throat until he hissed and gripped Takeshi's hand and hair, a tremor running through him as he came. Takeshi moaned around him, looking up at the fine sheen of sweat gleaming on Kyouya's skin and the relaxed, open pleasure on his face, and stroked his thumb over Kyouya's hip until he finally pulled away.

Kyouya settled over his thighs and smirked at him, feline; Takeshi began to say his name but stopped when Kyouya lifted his fingers and pressed them against his mouth. "Suck," he said.

Takeshi swallowed hard as his cock throbbed in his slacks and parted his lips again, wrapping them around Kyouya's fingers and sliding his tongue down the slender lengths of them. He traced it over Kyouya's calluses and the delicate skin between his fingers and watched Kyouya all the while. Kyouya lounged over his thighs, indolent, every muscle of him gone lax and easy. If Takeshi hadn't already been achingly hard, that sight alone would have done it for him. He moaned around Kyouya's fingers, inquiring, and hoped that Kyouya would understand what he was getting at.

Kết quả (Việt) 1:

Takeshi cười. "Có lẽ không, nhưng tôi có thể làm điều này nếu bạn đã làm?" Ông chạy đôi môi của mình dọc theo các đỉnh của Kyouya hông, nuzzling da đã được vẫn còn ẩm ướt từ vòi sen như ông theo sau nó xuống nơi vòi nước của Kyouya đã bắt đầu để khuấy và điền vào. Kyouya làm mềm một âm thanh, hơi thở kêu xèo xèo giữa răng của mình như Takeshi trượt miệng của mình xuống độ dài của vòi nước của ông để trêu chọc lưỡi của mình trên đầu, trở lại và ra, truy tìm hình dạng của nó. Ông định cư tay trên đầu của Takeshi, trọng lượng của nó cách nhấn nó về phía trước. Takeshi sẽ có cười một lần nữa, nhưng nó là tốt hơn để trượt miệng của mình xung quanh đầu của vòi nước của Kyouya và hút giữa đôi môi của mình và lắng nghe cách đánh bắt hơi thở của Kyouya như ông đã đi cứng giữa một nhịp tim và tiếp theo. Takeshi cong bàn tay của mình xung quanh thành phố của Kyouya ass, cradling nó trong lòng bàn tay của mình như Kyouya cong ngón tay của mình trong tóc của mình, và mở miệng rộng hơn như Kyouya cán hông của mình về phía trước.That earned him the barest huff of a snort; when he glanced up, Kyouya was watching him, eyes half-veiled and glittering beneath his lashes. He slid his fingers through Takeshi's hair, curling them around the back of Takeshi's skull, and pushed deeper, crowding against him until Takeshi had to swallow him down. He hummed around Kyouya's cock, nuzzling Kyouya's stomach and inhaling the faint scent of the soap that lingered on his skin. Then Kyouya gripped his hair and shifted his hips, rocking them back and forth, fucking Takeshi's mouth and holding him still for it. Takeshi hummed again, sliding his fingers over the blades of Kyouya's hips, spreading them against the smooth skin of his ass and feeling the way his muscles moved with every slow flex of his hips. Kyouya was flushed over him, his expression as intent as the way he moved; the sight stole Takeshi's breath as heat twined through him.Takeshi lifted one of his hands from Kyouya's hips, meaning to reach down and undo his fly, but Kyouya caught his hand. "No," he said, voice gone husky, which was enough to send heat stabbing through Takeshi. He moaned around Kyouya's cock as Kyouya pressed forward again, moving his hips in short little hitches, fucking Takeshi's throat until he hissed and gripped Takeshi's hand and hair, a tremor running through him as he came. Takeshi moaned around him, looking up at the fine sheen of sweat gleaming on Kyouya's skin and the relaxed, open pleasure on his face, and stroked his thumb over Kyouya's hip until he finally pulled away.Kyouya settled over his thighs and smirked at him, feline; Takeshi began to say his name but stopped when Kyouya lifted his fingers and pressed them against his mouth. "Suck," he said.Takeshi swallowed hard as his cock throbbed in his slacks and parted his lips again, wrapping them around Kyouya's fingers and sliding his tongue down the slender lengths of them. He traced it over Kyouya's calluses and the delicate skin between his fingers and watched Kyouya all the while. Kyouya lounged over his thighs, indolent, every muscle of him gone lax and easy. If Takeshi hadn't already been achingly hard, that sight alone would have done it for him. He moaned around Kyouya's fingers, inquiring, and hoped that Kyouya would understand what he was getting at.