[Mettaton smiles, simple and pleased, for he does pay Emet-Selch close attention. He kisses over his shoulder, open-mouthed and-- if failing in the dampness, it's full and passionate, and soft thanks to his lack of saliva. That's what follows his nip, as though in gratitude for Emet-Selch's agreement: he would still, because it was in line with what he wanted. Not an act of obedience. Mettaton could read between the lines.
Because even wound up, bound and tied, Emet-Selch would be stubborn and defiant. Mettaton smiles wider- almost maddened, hungered. The quickness of his fingers stumble, fumbling to free what lies beneath cloth, and the robot coaxes his pants to part for him with another gentle nibble of the Ascian's neck.]
Hades... [Is all he finds himself saying, voice a low purr. For the moment, he's transfixed on his prize—and Mettaton lifts his head so that he's on alert, ears leaning far enough that they're surely making their way into Emet-Selch's vision. Clawed fingertips push deep between folds, and the puca-like robot fondles his mate, gasping softly at the sensation of his filled, filling erection, pushing at restraint of fabric. And now, at the grip of his hand.
With a soft groan, Mettaton could sympathetically feel the rigidity as though it were his own. He doesn't even need to close his eyes, wrapping fingertips around Emet-Selch's root as he pushes and parts fabric further to properly free his cock with a roll of his wrist, fighting his trousers to pull free his erection. And once free, Mettaton only barely manages to lift his hand from skin, just to give him a look, to appraise him as he'd promised.]
How you always manage to be a delightful presentation, I'll never know. [Mettaton sighs, stroking a finger along his length, the underside of the root all the way up until he gives the tip a firm press, causing him to bob.] If you want more things to do for me... Won't you lay back on the bed, darling? I want to... better appreciate you.
[Better appreciate, punctuated with another nip to his shoulder, ardent yet gentle. In spite of his condition, Mettaton's mind races with all he wanted to do, whether he could manage it in his current state or not. He wanted to lay him down, to spread his legs, to stuff his own cock between his thighs and describe how good he looked full him and erect; he wanted to lay him down and kiss him from neck to ankles, to leave him bitten and sensitive. He wanted to straddle his hips and push their cocks together, to grip them both until they oozed, slick and sticky and perfect to jerk off in tandem... Mettaton shivers with a sigh, pressing bodily against Emet-Selch.
But he similarly tugs at him, encouraging him to climb deeper onto the mattress. He would be more than supportive in helping him into place. He smirks against his neck, lips grazing along skin until he's just beneath his ear, able to nip at his earring.]
And by appreciate... I want the full spread of your body, Hades.
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Because even wound up, bound and tied, Emet-Selch would be stubborn and defiant. Mettaton smiles wider- almost maddened, hungered. The quickness of his fingers stumble, fumbling to free what lies beneath cloth, and the robot coaxes his pants to part for him with another gentle nibble of the Ascian's neck.]
Hades... [Is all he finds himself saying, voice a low purr. For the moment, he's transfixed on his prize—and Mettaton lifts his head so that he's on alert, ears leaning far enough that they're surely making their way into Emet-Selch's vision. Clawed fingertips push deep between folds, and the puca-like robot fondles his mate, gasping softly at the sensation of his filled, filling erection, pushing at restraint of fabric. And now, at the grip of his hand.
With a soft groan, Mettaton could sympathetically feel the rigidity as though it were his own. He doesn't even need to close his eyes, wrapping fingertips around Emet-Selch's root as he pushes and parts fabric further to properly free his cock with a roll of his wrist, fighting his trousers to pull free his erection. And once free, Mettaton only barely manages to lift his hand from skin, just to give him a look, to appraise him as he'd promised.]
How you always manage to be a delightful presentation, I'll never know. [Mettaton sighs, stroking a finger along his length, the underside of the root all the way up until he gives the tip a firm press, causing him to bob.] If you want more things to do for me... Won't you lay back on the bed, darling? I want to... better appreciate you.
[Better appreciate, punctuated with another nip to his shoulder, ardent yet gentle. In spite of his condition, Mettaton's mind races with all he wanted to do, whether he could manage it in his current state or not. He wanted to lay him down, to spread his legs, to stuff his own cock between his thighs and describe how good he looked full him and erect; he wanted to lay him down and kiss him from neck to ankles, to leave him bitten and sensitive. He wanted to straddle his hips and push their cocks together, to grip them both until they oozed, slick and sticky and perfect to jerk off in tandem... Mettaton shivers with a sigh, pressing bodily against Emet-Selch.
But he similarly tugs at him, encouraging him to climb deeper onto the mattress. He would be more than supportive in helping him into place. He smirks against his neck, lips grazing along skin until he's just beneath his ear, able to nip at his earring.]
And by appreciate... I want the full spread of your body, Hades.