[ You look amazing. Grinning against Billy's length, he decides his mage has waited long enough and descends on him with the full talent of a wicked tongue (twisting, rubbing) and a working throat (swallowing him down to let Billy get as deep as he needs, again and again) to spoil his lover rotten. Loki doesn't plan on moving away for a moment, fingertips kneading at the soft slip of skin just above a pink hole, a strong palm cupping at balls. Come, I've got you. Come, Billy, I know you want to; want me.
Billy's taste is salty and thick, but it isn't complete. Not yet. In preparation, Loki adjusts his breathing and moans around his mouthful so no mistake will be made when remembering whose mouth this is, and green eyes flicker up, attentively locked on a pretty face. ]
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Billy's taste is salty and thick, but it isn't complete. Not yet. In preparation, Loki adjusts his breathing and moans around his mouthful so no mistake will be made when remembering whose mouth this is, and green eyes flicker up, attentively locked on a pretty face. ]