[The sight alone is breathtaking; Godfrey cradled between his knees, pillows crushed beneath them as he catches Gale's gaze once more, the wizard's own now dark and heavy with lust, with near-desperate wanting, cock twitching against Godfrey's thick fingers in a bid for more. He lets out a soft, plaintive sound that sticks at the back of his throat as a kiss is pressed against his innermost thigh, and already he feels his arms threatening to give way beneath him even as he aims to remain propped up to enjoy the view, feeling his pulse beat in his mouth.
What follows is so much more than he could have anticipated, having been so long without mortal touch. Anyone else would look positively sinful in such a position; Godfrey remains earnest, beatific, pulling a sigh from Gale as his tongue drags along his turgid length. Gale meets his gaze, his own all heat, and the very picture goes straight to his cock, another surge of wanting, the featherlight brush of lips against him almost too much to bear— and then he is lost, sheathed in wet heat, the close of Godfrey's lips drawing for a strangled sound that borders on a half-choked sob.
His head drops back and he fights the urge to buck into Godfrey's mouth, remaining as still as he can manage as he finds himself swallowed deep, white-knuckled grip clutching at the pillow jutting out from beneath him. The sound that escapes him is guttural and wordless, one he had never known himself able to make before now, and his fingers blindly tangle into Godfrey's hair as he struggles to ground himself.]
Gods, h-how—
[Any question, rhetorical or otherwise, is abandoned, lost to another moan that feels as though it has been coaxed forth from the very furthest depths.]
no subject
What follows is so much more than he could have anticipated, having been so long without mortal touch. Anyone else would look positively sinful in such a position; Godfrey remains earnest, beatific, pulling a sigh from Gale as his tongue drags along his turgid length. Gale meets his gaze, his own all heat, and the very picture goes straight to his cock, another surge of wanting, the featherlight brush of lips against him almost too much to bear— and then he is lost, sheathed in wet heat, the close of Godfrey's lips drawing for a strangled sound that borders on a half-choked sob.
His head drops back and he fights the urge to buck into Godfrey's mouth, remaining as still as he can manage as he finds himself swallowed deep, white-knuckled grip clutching at the pillow jutting out from beneath him. The sound that escapes him is guttural and wordless, one he had never known himself able to make before now, and his fingers blindly tangle into Godfrey's hair as he struggles to ground himself.]
Gods, h-how—
[Any question, rhetorical or otherwise, is abandoned, lost to another moan that feels as though it has been coaxed forth from the very furthest depths.]