[ The less thinking that can be done during sex the more likelihood for enjoyment, at least when it's just something as benign as riding goes. These are not the elaborate scenes he's indulged in before, nonetheless, he is still just as keenly interested to be part of it. France's breathing is peppered with soft sighs with every slow roll of America's hips. Maybe he'd had enough forethought to make the blond come in an effort to alleviate some of his own frantic energy; all that's left is a mutual attempt to just enjoy the moment.
Some of the threat is reduced by how quickly America finds his own prostate. While he isn't impatient, that gasp makes him roll his hips up against the blond's ass seeking more of that. What he gets is America's lips pressing kisses to his fingers and the wet heat of the boy's mouth.
Either America enjoys porn or it's just his urge to put things in his mouth that have France's fingers buried to the knuckle. It feels gratuitous coupled with those pretty blue eyes at half-mast but far from bad. America's hips finally move and he groans under his breath, his free hand dragging nails down the blond's thighs. America speaks, and he can feel the vibration under his fingertips. Is there any blood left in his brain? France isn't so sure, but he pushes up, half seated. ]
Why don't you tell me?
[ France could have probably managed well enough while reclining, but he wants closer. His fingers wrap around the boy's throat, leaning in to kiss the blond and rob him of his breath in that manner too. France can be a simple man; he sees a nice set of lips he wants to kiss them. His teeth nip and tug at his bottom lip when he draws away to catch his own, pulling back until he could look America in the eye. ]
We can compare later how thrilling this can be. Your tempo versus mine.
[ Buddy, is he calling you out on being tortuously slow? Possibly. France's hips rock, moaning. ]
It'll be fun to render you speechless.
[ How can he make such a thing sound warm with affection? He wants to share this, appreciating the act himself. His mouth finds a patch of skin on the blond's throat not grasped in his fingers, kissing it. ]
You're going to drive me mad. [ A compliment, really. ]
no subject
Some of the threat is reduced by how quickly America finds his own prostate. While he isn't impatient, that gasp makes him roll his hips up against the blond's ass seeking more of that. What he gets is America's lips pressing kisses to his fingers and the wet heat of the boy's mouth.
Either America enjoys porn or it's just his urge to put things in his mouth that have France's fingers buried to the knuckle. It feels gratuitous coupled with those pretty blue eyes at half-mast but far from bad. America's hips finally move and he groans under his breath, his free hand dragging nails down the blond's thighs. America speaks, and he can feel the vibration under his fingertips. Is there any blood left in his brain? France isn't so sure, but he pushes up, half seated. ]
Why don't you tell me?
[ France could have probably managed well enough while reclining, but he wants closer. His fingers wrap around the boy's throat, leaning in to kiss the blond and rob him of his breath in that manner too. France can be a simple man; he sees a nice set of lips he wants to kiss them. His teeth nip and tug at his bottom lip when he draws away to catch his own, pulling back until he could look America in the eye. ]
We can compare later how thrilling this can be. Your tempo versus mine.
[ Buddy, is he calling you out on being tortuously slow? Possibly. France's hips rock, moaning. ]
It'll be fun to render you speechless.
[ How can he make such a thing sound warm with affection? He wants to share this, appreciating the act himself. His mouth finds a patch of skin on the blond's throat not grasped in his fingers, kissing it. ]
You're going to drive me mad. [ A compliment, really. ]