[ Matt gives a flutter of laughter at the allegation of trickiness. He doesn't subscribe to it himself, since he doesn't really count deception among his talents. But based on feedback he's received in the past, he supposes he might have to accept "minxy" or "brat."
He sighs as Quentin's mouth brushes his shoulder. One more place he's thrilled and fascinated to feel Quentin's lips. His eyes follow Quentin's reflection, his own hand as he strokes himself, until Quentin offers him the small correction, and--
Pretty little crown sends a shiver down his spine. A pulse of arousal between his legs. ]
Of course, [ Matt answers, unsteady. Of course, he needs to go slower. Of course, he'd like it. His thumb caresses the head of his cock, a small whine slipping from his lips. He presses down. He imagines.
Wrapped up in following Quentin's suggestions, Matt doesn't fully realize what he's up to until he feels that kiss, the scrape of teeth. Ticklishly, his hips rock forward, pushing his erection into the loose ring of his fingers. Matt gasps. He shifts to stand with his legs wider apart at Quentin's coaxing, nudging forward to give him a bit more room behind him. The first slick touch to his hole gets another gasp from him, another abrupt shift of his hips. Matt settles back into his original position and tries to relax, to breathe steadily. All the while, he keeps toying with his cock. Rubbing at the crown of it, letting his fingers ghost over the slit. Imitating that little pinch Quentin gave him by the door. Matt's mouth falls open, soft panting breaths escaping. ]
no subject
He sighs as Quentin's mouth brushes his shoulder. One more place he's thrilled and fascinated to feel Quentin's lips. His eyes follow Quentin's reflection, his own hand as he strokes himself, until Quentin offers him the small correction, and--
Pretty little crown sends a shiver down his spine. A pulse of arousal between his legs. ]
Of course, [ Matt answers, unsteady. Of course, he needs to go slower. Of course, he'd like it. His thumb caresses the head of his cock, a small whine slipping from his lips. He presses down. He imagines.
Wrapped up in following Quentin's suggestions, Matt doesn't fully realize what he's up to until he feels that kiss, the scrape of teeth. Ticklishly, his hips rock forward, pushing his erection into the loose ring of his fingers. Matt gasps. He shifts to stand with his legs wider apart at Quentin's coaxing, nudging forward to give him a bit more room behind him. The first slick touch to his hole gets another gasp from him, another abrupt shift of his hips. Matt settles back into his original position and tries to relax, to breathe steadily. All the while, he keeps toying with his cock. Rubbing at the crown of it, letting his fingers ghost over the slit. Imitating that little pinch Quentin gave him by the door. Matt's mouth falls open, soft panting breaths escaping. ]