Well, good to know that definitely gets to him. Orym can make a few guesses about the words Will might have chosen, and he glows with it. Being able to do that to him feels amazing. Knowing just how attractive his boyfriend finds him makes him confident, bold.
"Yeah," he breathes, and moans as Will fucks him faster, fingers spreading. He must be split open wide, he can feel it where his own fingers sketch a light, tracing touch around his entrance. But for Will's cock, he has to be. It's raw and it's good, being filled and stretched and filled more, made to perfectly fit Will. Just for him.
Orym's eyes slip closed and his chin tilts up, turning his face to the ceiling as he pants. There's a wonderful warm ache in his muscles as he uses them to rock into Will's thrusts. Intentionally or not he keeps grinding against his prostate, which is basically inevitable when Orym is stuffed this full, but it's so overwhelming his hips start to jerk off-rhythm, and then his muscles are trembling too much to lift his hips much at all.
Every inch of Orym's skin is sensitive enough that the brush of Will's lips and even his breath as he speaks is enough to send waves of prickling heat through his body. With his lips together, his quiet whimpers don't quite make it out of his mouth, but they're audible still where they rise up in his throat.
The bed creaks a little as Will ruts against the sheets, and Orym wishes he could reach to stroke him, to feel how hard Will is for him. Instead he buries a hand in his boyfriend's mane of dark brown curls and wraps the other around himself, jerking his twitching cock and feeling it start to really fill again under his touch.
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"Yeah," he breathes, and moans as Will fucks him faster, fingers spreading. He must be split open wide, he can feel it where his own fingers sketch a light, tracing touch around his entrance. But for Will's cock, he has to be. It's raw and it's good, being filled and stretched and filled more, made to perfectly fit Will. Just for him.
Orym's eyes slip closed and his chin tilts up, turning his face to the ceiling as he pants. There's a wonderful warm ache in his muscles as he uses them to rock into Will's thrusts. Intentionally or not he keeps grinding against his prostate, which is basically inevitable when Orym is stuffed this full, but it's so overwhelming his hips start to jerk off-rhythm, and then his muscles are trembling too much to lift his hips much at all.
Every inch of Orym's skin is sensitive enough that the brush of Will's lips and even his breath as he speaks is enough to send waves of prickling heat through his body. With his lips together, his quiet whimpers don't quite make it out of his mouth, but they're audible still where they rise up in his throat.
The bed creaks a little as Will ruts against the sheets, and Orym wishes he could reach to stroke him, to feel how hard Will is for him. Instead he buries a hand in his boyfriend's mane of dark brown curls and wraps the other around himself, jerking his twitching cock and feeling it start to really fill again under his touch.