[Even now, with his heightened pulse and thrum of blood through his veins, all echoing the beat in his cock, Emet-Selch notices the feeling of a hand brushing over where he'd been bitten, the skin still tender, warmer than the surrounding area. A detail, the memory of his lover's teeth tearing his skin produce a softer sigh from him- or would have, had his mouth not been claimed, well occupied by a fiercer kiss. But when Mettaton pulls back from it, the quickened breath and startled reaction was worth the break, he thought, the Ascian's own eyes forcing themselves open again to watch him, as the puca's reaction shifts from sharp alert into understanding and lascivious anticipation. Sensation along with prospective sensation, feelings he could more than share with him.
So it's not surprising at all when that tightness begins to close around the tip of his erection, but it still produces a cry from him, soft but fervent, as both hands move to Mettaton's thighs, clinging onto them. Emet-Selch digs in with his fingers as though he's the one who needs to brace himself, a squeezing of his arousal that he could never truly prepare for, reality more than matching his imagination. His eyes remain open for a few moments more as he glances downward, to catch each shift of Mettaton's hips, the gradual lowering with each rock of them, the way he could distinctly feel the result, so very, very closely. The suggestive spread of the idol's legs around him, the tension evident in his abdomen and thighs, the stiffness of his cock between them a tempting sight in itself.
Breath shallow and fast, Emet-Selch still manages a harder moan when his lover's body takes in the full head of his cock, jolting sharply at the sensation concentrated on the most sensitive part of him, leaning closer to Mettaton as he pants, kissing him desperately amid breaths.]
Ah-- Mettaton, you....
[The slickened muscle constricting around the ridge of his cock, the way his body seemed perfectly made to hold him- how could he find words to express any of that? How hot he felt, how good he felt, without even being entirely inside him. The affection he felt for him then, on top of everything he already felt, almost daunted. And he only shudders when Mettaton continues to move, feeling his length sinking deeper into him, impossibly warm and close. Emet-Selch's legs tremble and twitch underneath him, trying to press upward without conscious thought. And he shudders again when Mettaton moans, when he feels his breath hot against him, a reminder of the hotness of the rest of his body. Licks back against his lips- or tries to, tongue flicking against some part of them, at least. But his determination to kiss him in some fashion is at least clear.]
I- I love you- I... you feel--
[Clearer than his words, which aren't terribly coherent, but no less determined. The noise he makes is almost frustrated, but only briefly so; how could he be too bothered by insufficient wordage when his lover was busy stuffing himself full of his cock?
And as Mettaton shifts lower, taking more of his shaft, the Ascian manages to let go of one of his Bonded's thighs with one hand, drawn to the memory of the idol's own cock between them, hard and engorged and something he couldn't resist wanting to touch. Feeling for him without looking, recently-lubricated fingers brush against, then wrap around the base of him, moaning a little at the heat evident here too, giving him a squeezing stroke upward, getting caught at the ridge of the glans and tightening that little bit more around it.]
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So it's not surprising at all when that tightness begins to close around the tip of his erection, but it still produces a cry from him, soft but fervent, as both hands move to Mettaton's thighs, clinging onto them. Emet-Selch digs in with his fingers as though he's the one who needs to brace himself, a squeezing of his arousal that he could never truly prepare for, reality more than matching his imagination. His eyes remain open for a few moments more as he glances downward, to catch each shift of Mettaton's hips, the gradual lowering with each rock of them, the way he could distinctly feel the result, so very, very closely. The suggestive spread of the idol's legs around him, the tension evident in his abdomen and thighs, the stiffness of his cock between them a tempting sight in itself.
Breath shallow and fast, Emet-Selch still manages a harder moan when his lover's body takes in the full head of his cock, jolting sharply at the sensation concentrated on the most sensitive part of him, leaning closer to Mettaton as he pants, kissing him desperately amid breaths.]
Ah-- Mettaton, you....
[The slickened muscle constricting around the ridge of his cock, the way his body seemed perfectly made to hold him- how could he find words to express any of that? How hot he felt, how good he felt, without even being entirely inside him. The affection he felt for him then, on top of everything he already felt, almost daunted. And he only shudders when Mettaton continues to move, feeling his length sinking deeper into him, impossibly warm and close. Emet-Selch's legs tremble and twitch underneath him, trying to press upward without conscious thought. And he shudders again when Mettaton moans, when he feels his breath hot against him, a reminder of the hotness of the rest of his body. Licks back against his lips- or tries to, tongue flicking against some part of them, at least. But his determination to kiss him in some fashion is at least clear.]
I- I love you- I... you feel--
[Clearer than his words, which aren't terribly coherent, but no less determined. The noise he makes is almost frustrated, but only briefly so; how could he be too bothered by insufficient wordage when his lover was busy stuffing himself full of his cock?
And as Mettaton shifts lower, taking more of his shaft, the Ascian manages to let go of one of his Bonded's thighs with one hand, drawn to the memory of the idol's own cock between them, hard and engorged and something he couldn't resist wanting to touch. Feeling for him without looking, recently-lubricated fingers brush against, then wrap around the base of him, moaning a little at the heat evident here too, giving him a squeezing stroke upward, getting caught at the ridge of the glans and tightening that little bit more around it.]