[One of the things that Emet-Selch had come to appreciate was how little bits of care worked their way into their actions, even amongst demanding need and inciting passion. Not that those moments were bereft of affection- much to the contrary: he doubted that that their bodies would have ever fit together so well if it weren't for their... feelings for one another. If it weren't for the accompanying trust and cooperation and care- it wouldn't have felt the same at all. He wouldn't be sitting here, breathlessly anticipating being fucked purely to sate someone else's desires.
...Not that purely, really, the Ascian did have to admit to himself. While the primary and most important part of this was seeing Mettaton to his satisfaction, he knew there was a lot that he would get out of it personally as well. Though when he thought about it, even those aspects were related to Mettaton's well-being... but he supposed love would do that. To take pleasure in witnessing Mettaton come apart because of his body, to hear his voice in a way no one else would. The sheer physicality was also another benefit: his attraction to, and desire towards feeling his lover's cock moving inside him was not inconsiderable.
And the Ascian wondered what it would feel like, to be penetrated like this, while not sharing the same soaring desperation, but a deep investment nonetheless. And he mused if he'd end up hard again anyway by the end of it, considering how much he still wanted him on an emotional, psychological level. Though with three rounds behind him, Emet-Selch wasn't sure if his body would catch up in time to the rest of him. But it didn't matter to him either way. He would take a pleasure in it regardless.
And more important was everything else. Including those small gestures of affection that he'd originally been considering, soft kisses against his back while he'd been busy admiring himself. An area that didn't really get much attention, so it felt that much... sweeter, somehow, even if it was also just the place Mettaton could reach in his position. Extraneous touching, unnecessary affection... as though there were such things.
It feels like it takes longer than it does for Mettaton to retrieve the handily-dropped lubrication and apply it to himself- and if the Ascian felt himself tensing and anticipatory, he can well-imagine what it must be like for the idol. One more small delay, but he knew the reward would be worth it.
(Considering everything they've done on them, those bedspreads would require a wash anyway. A bit of extra lube on them wouldn't make a difference.)
With his arms maneuvered, Emet-Selch tenses them automatically, holding himself up and as with as much stability as he can manage. And stubbornness can manage a fair amount it turns out, along with a powerful source of motivation. And even then, all he really can do is facilitate Mettaton's own efforts, keeping himself in place with gently-trembling limbs as his Bonded repeatedly nudges him with his cock.
Each time his arousal gets that bit closer heightens his own expectations, catches his breath. And throughout, he watches, fixated on the sights before him. A reminder to keep his limbs steady, a fascination with the way he looked with his legs spread around his lover's, and the glimpses he had of his hardened cock honing in on him. The brush to his balls gets a gasp from him, and he twitches, fighting off a shake to his arms at knowing how close he was, how soon he would have him--
It's not much in the way of precognition, but he's still right, and his sigh has the edge of a satisfied moan to it when he feels the very tip of Mettaton's cock reaching his entrance- and especially when it doesn't hesitate to push into him, his body made to give way so smoothly, to accept this large intrusion.
Any discomfort from feeling the head push steadily deeper, aided by gravity and the weight of his own body, doesn't even register. There was only that creeping sense of fullness, tantalizingly close and inevitable. The only thing that slows his descent onto Mettaton's cock is by how much he wanted to watch himself take it. To feel that vision echoed in his body as he was stretched around that hot rigidity, gasping again as he clenches around him. Fascinated by the sight, he halts his descent with effort, briefly reversing it so that he can only feel the glans still held within him. Breathing quicker, he tightens around him at that point, enjoying the dig of the ridge, and the way he could squeeze the head of his cock so completely. The way he could see most of Mettaton's length between his own parted legs, stretched far enough apart that he was entirely on display. Of course Mettaton would fantasize about this moment- why wouldn't he? The Ascian was sure he'd be thinking about it himself, in times after.]
Oh... Mettaton....
[His voice is a dazed whisper, so utterly taken by the way he could see such well-loved thighs held apart by his Bonded's hands, his own cock (still slick from Mettaton's saliva, the Ascian could tell, from the way light reflected off of it) nudged to one side so that he could get a clear view of how his lover's erection was fitting inside him. That he could hold something like that in his body... and that it felt so right to have him there--
Slowly, his arms begin to slacken, and all Emet-Selch can feel is that satisfaction again, as Mettaton's length is stuffed deeper. And this time he lets gravity win, unable to stop his own desires towards seeing himself sitting flush to the robot's body, ass against his hips, barely able to see the idol's cock at all. Only a bit of the base, perhaps, where it attached to him. But how he could feel it.... Emet-Selch doesn't even immediately notice that his arms are loose, not supporting anything at all, as he's too busy shuddering at being suddenly full again. His body arches automatically into the sensation with a soft noise, stirring the cock within him, which only results in another round of tensing around that girth.]
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...Not that purely, really, the Ascian did have to admit to himself. While the primary and most important part of this was seeing Mettaton to his satisfaction, he knew there was a lot that he would get out of it personally as well. Though when he thought about it, even those aspects were related to Mettaton's well-being... but he supposed love would do that. To take pleasure in witnessing Mettaton come apart because of his body, to hear his voice in a way no one else would. The sheer physicality was also another benefit: his attraction to, and desire towards feeling his lover's cock moving inside him was not inconsiderable.
And the Ascian wondered what it would feel like, to be penetrated like this, while not sharing the same soaring desperation, but a deep investment nonetheless. And he mused if he'd end up hard again anyway by the end of it, considering how much he still wanted him on an emotional, psychological level. Though with three rounds behind him, Emet-Selch wasn't sure if his body would catch up in time to the rest of him. But it didn't matter to him either way. He would take a pleasure in it regardless.
And more important was everything else. Including those small gestures of affection that he'd originally been considering, soft kisses against his back while he'd been busy admiring himself. An area that didn't really get much attention, so it felt that much... sweeter, somehow, even if it was also just the place Mettaton could reach in his position. Extraneous touching, unnecessary affection... as though there were such things.
It feels like it takes longer than it does for Mettaton to retrieve the handily-dropped lubrication and apply it to himself- and if the Ascian felt himself tensing and anticipatory, he can well-imagine what it must be like for the idol. One more small delay, but he knew the reward would be worth it.
(Considering everything they've done on them, those bedspreads would require a wash anyway. A bit of extra lube on them wouldn't make a difference.)
With his arms maneuvered, Emet-Selch tenses them automatically, holding himself up and as with as much stability as he can manage. And stubbornness can manage a fair amount it turns out, along with a powerful source of motivation. And even then, all he really can do is facilitate Mettaton's own efforts, keeping himself in place with gently-trembling limbs as his Bonded repeatedly nudges him with his cock.
Each time his arousal gets that bit closer heightens his own expectations, catches his breath. And throughout, he watches, fixated on the sights before him. A reminder to keep his limbs steady, a fascination with the way he looked with his legs spread around his lover's, and the glimpses he had of his hardened cock honing in on him. The brush to his balls gets a gasp from him, and he twitches, fighting off a shake to his arms at knowing how close he was, how soon he would have him--
It's not much in the way of precognition, but he's still right, and his sigh has the edge of a satisfied moan to it when he feels the very tip of Mettaton's cock reaching his entrance- and especially when it doesn't hesitate to push into him, his body made to give way so smoothly, to accept this large intrusion.
Any discomfort from feeling the head push steadily deeper, aided by gravity and the weight of his own body, doesn't even register. There was only that creeping sense of fullness, tantalizingly close and inevitable. The only thing that slows his descent onto Mettaton's cock is by how much he wanted to watch himself take it. To feel that vision echoed in his body as he was stretched around that hot rigidity, gasping again as he clenches around him. Fascinated by the sight, he halts his descent with effort, briefly reversing it so that he can only feel the glans still held within him. Breathing quicker, he tightens around him at that point, enjoying the dig of the ridge, and the way he could squeeze the head of his cock so completely. The way he could see most of Mettaton's length between his own parted legs, stretched far enough apart that he was entirely on display. Of course Mettaton would fantasize about this moment- why wouldn't he? The Ascian was sure he'd be thinking about it himself, in times after.]
Oh... Mettaton....
[His voice is a dazed whisper, so utterly taken by the way he could see such well-loved thighs held apart by his Bonded's hands, his own cock (still slick from Mettaton's saliva, the Ascian could tell, from the way light reflected off of it) nudged to one side so that he could get a clear view of how his lover's erection was fitting inside him. That he could hold something like that in his body... and that it felt so right to have him there--
Slowly, his arms begin to slacken, and all Emet-Selch can feel is that satisfaction again, as Mettaton's length is stuffed deeper. And this time he lets gravity win, unable to stop his own desires towards seeing himself sitting flush to the robot's body, ass against his hips, barely able to see the idol's cock at all. Only a bit of the base, perhaps, where it attached to him. But how he could feel it.... Emet-Selch doesn't even immediately notice that his arms are loose, not supporting anything at all, as he's too busy shuddering at being suddenly full again. His body arches automatically into the sensation with a soft noise, stirring the cock within him, which only results in another round of tensing around that girth.]