[It was always a pleasing moment, to realize he only tasted them rather than one or the other. A blending in the way other parts of their bodies were blended, as how their souls wanted to be blended, but were at least tied together. It was one more closing of distance, and whenever the Ascian claims Mettaton's mouth a bit more with his tongue, he knows he's claimed just as much by it in return.
Mettaton moans against his lips, and Emet-Selch swallows it down alongside air, and feels like he gains more from it than any gasp of oxygen could provide. And moments later he echoes the sound, returning it to him- though much reduced, as his body tenses, shudders, over the long, full drags of his lover's cock. An erection that's withdrawn almost entirely from his body- though not quite, fortunately. Whenever the glans gets close to his entrance he tightens especially hard around it, as though he could force him to stay, convince him back into the greater heat of his body. Where he could wrap around the whole of his girth in come-spread slickness, where he could provide an excellent place for his ejaculate to rest.
Face smeared with saliva and more than a few hints of blood, his lips remain parted as he pants, kissing, sucking, licking at whatever part of Mettaton's face he could reach. Sometimes there was the successful impact against lips, a sliding into his mouth and the wet heat the robot offered there, and sometimes he scraped off to the side, to bite his chin or mouth his jaw. All of it's made further disorganized by the interruption of attempted moans, attempted sounds of several kinds, from the treatment of his body, from the heaviness of the cock tightly fucking him. It was hard to imagine him being any harder, any more rigid, any hotter than this- a thickness his body yearned to receive; why else would it feel so strange to not have him there? Why else did he want to arch up in relief each time the sloped tip was pushed all the way inside, when Mettaton's hips were completely flush to his ass, when he could be stretched no further?
Not that he could arch much with Mettaton bearing down on him so hard, a restraint he only sought to encourage with the pull his arms and the hold of his legs. Not quite crushed into the bed, perhaps, but Emet-Selch could feel no chance of escape, no way of pulling free or back or to do anything other than take the cock Mettaton was fucking him with, in precisely the way that his lover intended. Any struggling only emphasized his own helplessness, and the robot's strength, his control of him- a thrilling thing, and something he fought only to feel with more intensity, his pulse almost uncomfortably loud.
So he could try and he could tense, and he could shudder more with each full penetration, each time he was stuffed back to capacity, the feeling such a sharp contrast to how he felt when he was nearly empty, when the swollen head was squeezed more by the muscle around his entrance rather than by the depths of his body. Both were sensations to leave him weak, were worth stealing his breath and speeding his heart, but there was a sense of being complete that only the fullness of his engorged length could provide him.
Every pass just lead Emet-Selch to wanting more of it, more of him, an endless thrusting and taking that he'd never have to lose, that he would always be able to feel. And failing that, then at least be left so aching and full of his release that he would have no choice but to be reminded of him. As with every swallow, the pain made him think of a thick erection blocking his throat, he wanted this soreness as well, the ache of muscles well-used.]
It's- you're perfect. [Once again, Mettaton was expecting speech, words that he deserved to have, and his roughened throat would just have to provide, rasped out despite how much it stung.] How- thick you are, I... I can feel you. Stretch me. With every- every push, you....
[Something that tries to be a whine struggles to emerge from his throat, but it fares no better than the rest of his voice, strangled off into something that sounds like a pleading murmur of his name, a rapturous incantation of it, as he pants against his face, rubbing his cheek against saliva-slick places, between ladening him with more wet kisses, more damp devotionals.]
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Mettaton moans against his lips, and Emet-Selch swallows it down alongside air, and feels like he gains more from it than any gasp of oxygen could provide. And moments later he echoes the sound, returning it to him- though much reduced, as his body tenses, shudders, over the long, full drags of his lover's cock. An erection that's withdrawn almost entirely from his body- though not quite, fortunately. Whenever the glans gets close to his entrance he tightens especially hard around it, as though he could force him to stay, convince him back into the greater heat of his body. Where he could wrap around the whole of his girth in come-spread slickness, where he could provide an excellent place for his ejaculate to rest.
Face smeared with saliva and more than a few hints of blood, his lips remain parted as he pants, kissing, sucking, licking at whatever part of Mettaton's face he could reach. Sometimes there was the successful impact against lips, a sliding into his mouth and the wet heat the robot offered there, and sometimes he scraped off to the side, to bite his chin or mouth his jaw. All of it's made further disorganized by the interruption of attempted moans, attempted sounds of several kinds, from the treatment of his body, from the heaviness of the cock tightly fucking him. It was hard to imagine him being any harder, any more rigid, any hotter than this- a thickness his body yearned to receive; why else would it feel so strange to not have him there? Why else did he want to arch up in relief each time the sloped tip was pushed all the way inside, when Mettaton's hips were completely flush to his ass, when he could be stretched no further?
Not that he could arch much with Mettaton bearing down on him so hard, a restraint he only sought to encourage with the pull his arms and the hold of his legs. Not quite crushed into the bed, perhaps, but Emet-Selch could feel no chance of escape, no way of pulling free or back or to do anything other than take the cock Mettaton was fucking him with, in precisely the way that his lover intended. Any struggling only emphasized his own helplessness, and the robot's strength, his control of him- a thrilling thing, and something he fought only to feel with more intensity, his pulse almost uncomfortably loud.
So he could try and he could tense, and he could shudder more with each full penetration, each time he was stuffed back to capacity, the feeling such a sharp contrast to how he felt when he was nearly empty, when the swollen head was squeezed more by the muscle around his entrance rather than by the depths of his body. Both were sensations to leave him weak, were worth stealing his breath and speeding his heart, but there was a sense of being complete that only the fullness of his engorged length could provide him.
Every pass just lead Emet-Selch to wanting more of it, more of him, an endless thrusting and taking that he'd never have to lose, that he would always be able to feel. And failing that, then at least be left so aching and full of his release that he would have no choice but to be reminded of him. As with every swallow, the pain made him think of a thick erection blocking his throat, he wanted this soreness as well, the ache of muscles well-used.]
It's- you're perfect. [Once again, Mettaton was expecting speech, words that he deserved to have, and his roughened throat would just have to provide, rasped out despite how much it stung.] How- thick you are, I... I can feel you. Stretch me. With every- every push, you....
[Something that tries to be a whine struggles to emerge from his throat, but it fares no better than the rest of his voice, strangled off into something that sounds like a pleading murmur of his name, a rapturous incantation of it, as he pants against his face, rubbing his cheek against saliva-slick places, between ladening him with more wet kisses, more damp devotionals.]