He is painfully vanilla, malleable clay, ready for shaping, spread bare on the bed all for Francis to peruse. He's hard, watching Francis with anticipation, curious and nervous because he is naked as the day he was born.
"Uh," he tries, watching Francis, reaching to brush his fingers through his hair. "I...don't know."
"No? Not at all?" Replacing his kisses with warm tongue before pressing his teeth into soft, vulnerable flesh. Just a little. He won't bite, certainly not to pierce.
His hand roams over Ethan's hip and then down to wrap around his cock.
"I like," pulling back enough to speak, lips vibrating against his skin.
"Trying new things. Feeling safe enough to try new things."
"Ngh," he answers, shivering under his teeth, cock twitching in his hand. "You make me feel safe," he manages, wetting his lips as he shifts a little, cock aching.
Another kiss before he laps at Ethan's thigh and pulls a bruise. It won't last for long but he knows there's blood to call to the surface for a moment. It's pleasing.
"What's something you've always wanted to try but we're never brave enough? That you think about when you're alone. Pleasuring yourself."
Eyes averted as he asks, nosing around in Ethan's pubes as he strokes him.
Right. That's not the direction to go in. Redirect, Francis.
"I'm going to eat you out now if that's alright."
He thinks it will be. He moving to do it anyway. Keep a hand moving on Ethan's dick, spread him with his other. And bury his face. Explore him with that long, forked feeling tongue.
It's been a while, and he was getting married. He'd...well. He'd hoped.
And he's getting his wish. Francis is fantastic with his tongue, and
it's short circuiting his brain, legs falling open, cock hard and twitching
in Francis' grip.
"Francis, Francis stop," he pants, groping for him, because he's so close
and he doesn't want to blow his load like a fucking teenager. "Gimme--gimme
a minute."
He pulls off immediately, total stop, hand moving from Ethan's erection to his thigh. Maintaining contact as to not disconnect completely but he stops everything.
And he will very happily devote all night to making love to his new husband.
He rests back on his knees a little, stroking himself with his free hand.
"With enough practice a man can learn to come over and over again. Wild magic helps if you ask for it."
Not in the tone that Ethan needs help, not at all. More in the tone that Francis wants to fuck him through multiple orgasms and the way he purrs it says exactly that.
"I really don't know anything about magic," he admits, watching his husband
stroke himself as he props himself up on his elbows. It's quite the
intoxicating sight. Francis really is something else.
He quite likes this form. The face, the body. It hasn't changed much in a long time and he's grown attached. Maybe that's why it hasn't changed much. Hm. Food for thought.
Another moment and Francis comes back in, laying over Ethan and nosing into his neck. He kisses there and works his way down. All the way back down. Tracing lines and scraping his teeth over nipple and rib and hip.
Until he gets back down to Ethan's cock to swallow down.
And that's a very, very good tongue he's got. Ethan is hard as a rock again by the time Francis works his way back down, a moan ripped from him when Francis swallows him down.
"Oh fuck," he breathes, gently gripping his hair, hips tipping up a smidge. "Gid you're good-"
There comes a pleased purr in response, throat vibrating as he takes him to the root and comes back.
He really, really does know what he's doing. And he will take Ethan right the the razor's edge with his tongue and throat, fingers slick with spit playing at his hole. Make absolutely sure that he's ready whilst creating maximum bliss in the process.
"Thank you, fuck, thank you," he gasps, groping for him, wanting to touch
him, wrap his arms around him, feel him. He could love you so easily
- he's always been a hopeless romantic, forming attachments so quickly, so
deeply.
"It feels like it," he says, legs wrapping around his waist and easing him deeper. It feels incredible, he hasn't done this in years and it feels like perfection. Not hard, not too soft...vanilla and sweet.
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"Uh," he tries, watching Francis, reaching to brush his fingers through his hair. "I...don't know."
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"No? Not at all?" Replacing his kisses with warm tongue before pressing his teeth into soft, vulnerable flesh. Just a little. He won't bite, certainly not to pierce.
His hand roams over Ethan's hip and then down to wrap around his cock.
"I like," pulling back enough to speak, lips vibrating against his skin.
"Trying new things. Feeling safe enough to try new things."
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"Ngh," he answers, shivering under his teeth, cock twitching in his hand. "You make me feel safe," he manages, wetting his lips as he shifts a little, cock aching.
"I'm open to new things."
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"I will never intentionally hurt you, Ethan. I swear to you."
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He smiles, tracing his fingers over his hair and cheek, thumbing his skin.
“I trust you.”
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"I trust you, too."
Another kiss before he laps at Ethan's thigh and pulls a bruise. It won't last for long but he knows there's blood to call to the surface for a moment. It's pleasing.
"What's something you've always wanted to try but we're never brave enough? That you think about when you're alone. Pleasuring yourself."
Eyes averted as he asks, nosing around in Ethan's pubes as he strokes him.
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"I..I watched Girls Gone Wild once?" He's fucking embarrassed, maybe he should have lied and said he was ace. He's terrible at this.
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Right. That's not the direction to go in. Redirect, Francis.
"I'm going to eat you out now if that's alright."
He thinks it will be. He moving to do it anyway. Keep a hand moving on Ethan's dick, spread him with his other. And bury his face. Explore him with that long, forked feeling tongue.
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"W-what--oh, fuck," he gasps, because he's not expecting that. He showered and prepped on the hope but oh fuck he didn't expect this.
"Shit, holy fuck," he groans, arching, groaning as Francis works him over.
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Lick you open, nice and wide and deep. Adjust to the sentation and relax. Surrender.
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He...well.
It's been a while, and he was getting married. He'd...well. He'd hoped.
And he's getting his wish. Francis is fantastic with his tongue, and it's short circuiting his brain, legs falling open, cock hard and twitching in Francis' grip.
"Francis, Francis stop," he pants, groping for him, because he's so close and he doesn't want to blow his load like a fucking teenager. "Gimme--gimme a minute."
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"Too much?" Worried.
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"I'm--I'm just close," he pants, flexing his fingers into the sheets. If he had a heartbeat itwould be fluttering wildly.
"Don't wanna come all over the place like a high school boy."
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"Oh."
Well in that case take all the time you need.
"Well, we've got all night."
And he will very happily devote all night to making love to his new husband.
He rests back on his knees a little, stroking himself with his free hand.
"With enough practice a man can learn to come over and over again. Wild magic helps if you ask for it."
Not in the tone that Ethan needs help, not at all. More in the tone that Francis wants to fuck him through multiple orgasms and the way he purrs it says exactly that.
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"I really don't know anything about magic," he admits, watching his husband stroke himself as he props himself up on his elbows. It's quite the intoxicating sight. Francis really is something else.
"I just know I want you to make love to me."
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"With wild abandon"
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At least the body Francis has is pretty normal for a human. No tentacles, no porn star cock, just...normal. He's sexy. He's gorgeous.
One wonders what he would see if he were able to be the way he wanted to be, as opposed to what his lovers see.
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He quite likes this form. The face, the body. It hasn't changed much in a long time and he's grown attached. Maybe that's why it hasn't changed much. Hm. Food for thought.
Another moment and Francis comes back in, laying over Ethan and nosing into his neck. He kisses there and works his way down. All the way back down. Tracing lines and scraping his teeth over nipple and rib and hip.
Until he gets back down to Ethan's cock to swallow down.
He's going to edge you again.
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And that's a very, very good tongue he's got. Ethan is hard as a rock again by the time Francis works his way back down, a moan ripped from him when Francis swallows him down.
"Oh fuck," he breathes, gently gripping his hair, hips tipping up a smidge. "Gid you're good-"
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He really, really does know what he's doing. And he will take Ethan right the the razor's edge with his tongue and throat, fingers slick with spit playing at his hole. Make absolutely sure that he's ready whilst creating maximum bliss in the process.
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"Francis, Francis please -- I need you, I can't take it-"
God just fuck him already-
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"I've got you, beautiful."
Give him a moment to come back down before grabbing Ethan up and sinking in. A perfect fit.
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"Thank you, fuck, thank you," he gasps, groping for him, wanting to touch him, wrap his arms around him, feel him. He could love you so easily - he's always been a hopeless romantic, forming attachments so quickly, so deeply.
"You feel so perfect."
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Soft and sweet as they get acquainted. Enjoying every second it as that rhythm intensifies.
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"You feel perfect."
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