Steven turned onto his back and squirmed a bit to get comfortable. He was already beyond ready, his cock angry and red, leaking a bit on his hard stomach.
"Am I allowed to talk through it?" He asked, still grinning.
"Mmmm…. Lets see if you can manage without." I said, kissing him on the forehead. "Mmkay, dear. Tally-ho."
Steven stretched first. He flexed his arches, pointing his toes, and rolled his broad shoulders. He tossed some of his hair over his shoulders so the ends could brush against his already sensitive skin. Then he closed his eyes.
It took a while.
But slowly, a brilliant soft flush rose up his chest to settle on his cheeks. He bit his lip and strained his head back, the long white column of his neck like an offering to a hungry god. As he pushed himself further into his fantasy, his hips shifted uncomfortably and his nipples rose, dark and pebbled from his chest.
I just watched in awe. He was really doing it.
He tossed his head from side to side, as he gripped the sheets tight in his fists and gave a breathy moan. He oozed more furtively now, dripping down over the side of his thigh, the evidence of his desire glimmering wetly in the light from my bedside lamp.
Steven gasped and arched his back again. He breathed hard, then whimpered. Goosebumps spread up his arms and he shuddered. Then, without warning, he reached up and pulled his hair, yanking his head back even further. He clenched his teeth so hard. So very hard.
But touching his hair was touching himself, so I reached over to pry his hands out of his hair, annoyed that he wasn’t following the rules.
The instant I touched him, he screamed and came hard.
He wrapped his arms around himself, like he was desperate for someone to hold him, and quaked with the force of it.
When Steven finally settled down, he didn’t say anything. He just scrambled into my arms, still dripping, and hid his face in the curve of my neck.