[ Matt shudders at the lick to his neck and ear, shivers for the rake of Quentin's nails. Each touch to a new spot of bare skin prompts its own response, like Matt's an instrument of many delicate strings, and Quentin is plucking at every one. He feels that warm moan of a laugh as much as he hears it--feels the heat of Quentin's stiffening cock as his hips curl forward--and both sensations are so lovely that Matt has to rock back against him again, angling his hips to offer Quentin the cleft of his ass.
In the mirror, Matt watches Quentin's hand squeeze his throat. It's a light squeeze, but it makes him gasp. Makes his head tip back, a soft moan tumbling out at the stroke to his cock. Matt's hips shift again, as he chases the ring of Quentin's fingers, before rocking back just as eagerly to rub against the hard line of his erection.]
I want you to fuck me. [ Matt would be embarrassed at his own impatience if he weren't so fucking horny. If he hadn't been vividly imagining this since the moment Quentin started talking to him. His head turns slightly towards Quentin. The angle's not right for a kiss, but he cranes for it anyway. ] Do you want that? I'll be good for you.
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In the mirror, Matt watches Quentin's hand squeeze his throat. It's a light squeeze, but it makes him gasp. Makes his head tip back, a soft moan tumbling out at the stroke to his cock. Matt's hips shift again, as he chases the ring of Quentin's fingers, before rocking back just as eagerly to rub against the hard line of his erection.]
I want you to fuck me. [ Matt would be embarrassed at his own impatience if he weren't so fucking horny. If he hadn't been vividly imagining this since the moment Quentin started talking to him. His head turns slightly towards Quentin. The angle's not right for a kiss, but he cranes for it anyway. ] Do you want that? I'll be good for you.