[Had he likewise never encountered Mettaton with a sensation-enhanced body (and eventual shapeshifting potential), he wouldn't have known that there was as much to miss. As Mettaton was clearly affected by what they were doing, involved and incited, leaving bruises and tending to his cock, in something that wasn't a one-sided show for his sake. Their pleasure would be and had been mutual.
(Even then, he knew they would dream for more, at least in the sense of having more avenues for penetration, and especially the ability to come, just as they had in their earliest encounters with Mettaton as a puca. But the amount they were lacking on top of an absent cock, wouldn't be felt so keenly. The baseline would be different; Mettaton being able to touch and hold and feel at all would be delightful.
It still was. But they both knew better.)
Emet-Selch was still aware that for all that he missed what Mettaton was missing, that Mettaton would be in a far sorrier state, in having all this arousal, but no way to show it through a hard cock, no way of filling him with seed. When they'd briefly shared a body as god, he'd felt something of the puca-ized robotic experience, the way pressure and fluid had pooled in them, as they fascinated over their combined form. The utter relief when Mettaton had shapeshifted an erection for them to handle was something he wouldn't forget.
So he tries now to not think too far, too openly, on what he wished Mettaton still had. Neither of them were any less interested in one another sexually- which of course was its own problem, the reason it was difficult to not ache over what they no longer had.
But Mettaton's groan is echoed by a soft moan on his part, when the taller man returns to his erection, the press of his face and brush of his lips sending a jolt of wanting through him. He shudders at the sight, of his own length flush and full to his lover's face, a warmth that the mage could feel, at least.]
Is there any I would turn down wearing, if it came from you?
[Whether it was a pattern of bruises, or pieces of jewelry. Though when it came to more intimate items, was there anywhere here they could even buy cock rings from....
For that matter, was there any place to buy lubrication. It would get expensive, fast, if they had to beg the Crystal for a new bottle every time they ran out. And with Mettaton being a very dry robot, they would still need it for a lot of things. Was there any sort of sex shop in town?
But he tries to not think too far in that vein; it would be easy enough to bitterly question the point of it, even if it was there. He breathes another moan instead, as though he weren't distracted, watching his cock be treated to a series of kisses, messy in sight, if not in residue. Held steady by Mettaton's hand, it was a vision to get caught up in, and one that he tries to, thighs tense on either side of his head.
Pushing himself up to lean back on his elbows to better watch him, he exhales slowly.]
no subject
(Even then, he knew they would dream for more, at least in the sense of having more avenues for penetration, and especially the ability to come, just as they had in their earliest encounters with Mettaton as a puca. But the amount they were lacking on top of an absent cock, wouldn't be felt so keenly. The baseline would be different; Mettaton being able to touch and hold and feel at all would be delightful.
It still was. But they both knew better.)
Emet-Selch was still aware that for all that he missed what Mettaton was missing, that Mettaton would be in a far sorrier state, in having all this arousal, but no way to show it through a hard cock, no way of filling him with seed. When they'd briefly shared a body as god, he'd felt something of the puca-ized robotic experience, the way pressure and fluid had pooled in them, as they fascinated over their combined form. The utter relief when Mettaton had shapeshifted an erection for them to handle was something he wouldn't forget.
So he tries now to not think too far, too openly, on what he wished Mettaton still had. Neither of them were any less interested in one another sexually- which of course was its own problem, the reason it was difficult to not ache over what they no longer had.
But Mettaton's groan is echoed by a soft moan on his part, when the taller man returns to his erection, the press of his face and brush of his lips sending a jolt of wanting through him. He shudders at the sight, of his own length flush and full to his lover's face, a warmth that the mage could feel, at least.]
Is there any I would turn down wearing, if it came from you?
[Whether it was a pattern of bruises, or pieces of jewelry. Though when it came to more intimate items, was there anywhere here they could even buy cock rings from....
For that matter, was there any place to buy lubrication. It would get expensive, fast, if they had to beg the Crystal for a new bottle every time they ran out. And with Mettaton being a very dry robot, they would still need it for a lot of things. Was there any sort of sex shop in town?
But he tries to not think too far in that vein; it would be easy enough to bitterly question the point of it, even if it was there. He breathes another moan instead, as though he weren't distracted, watching his cock be treated to a series of kisses, messy in sight, if not in residue. Held steady by Mettaton's hand, it was a vision to get caught up in, and one that he tries to, thighs tense on either side of his head.
Pushing himself up to lean back on his elbows to better watch him, he exhales slowly.]
Though I appreciate decorating you as well.