[ For a moment, as Quentin enters him, Matt's face can't be seen in the mirror at all. Just the dark of his damp curls as his head drops, a fervent groan spilling out. There's nothing in the universe like being fucked when he's desperate for it. All the better if he's been prepared like Quentin's done it, muscles slick and receptive to what Quentin has to give him. Matt feels himself stretch around Quentin's cock, inch after inch of good burn, heavy satisfaction; the sensations pull a whine from him.
When he looks up, he barely recognizes himself. His face is flushed, his eyes wide and gleaming. Quentin's thrust slows to a halt as his hips press to Matt's ass; in the mirror, Matt sees his cock twitch. A drop of precum falls from the tip, landing on the chair with a tiny, obscene noise. It's so soft Matt might be imagining it, but it makes him blush a little brighter anyway. ]
No. I don't. [ The grind of Quentin's hips makes him moan, gets him rutting back against him, abrupt and insistent. ] Mm--I just need your cock.
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When he looks up, he barely recognizes himself. His face is flushed, his eyes wide and gleaming. Quentin's thrust slows to a halt as his hips press to Matt's ass; in the mirror, Matt sees his cock twitch. A drop of precum falls from the tip, landing on the chair with a tiny, obscene noise. It's so soft Matt might be imagining it, but it makes him blush a little brighter anyway. ]
No. I don't. [ The grind of Quentin's hips makes him moan, gets him rutting back against him, abrupt and insistent. ] Mm--I just need your cock.
[ A slightly politer way to say don't stop. ]