[If Mettaton hadn't felt thick and firmed up before, having his own yet-softening length pushed up against the robot's root served to show it off that much more. A small groan escapes him, along with a roll of his hips, to provide further contact, further pressure.]
What else... what else did you have in mind?
[He felt amenable to anything he could think of- as what way was there that he wouldn't want his husband, now that he could see him to the heights of his pleasure? Whether it was stroked off by his hand or against any other part of his body, or taken into his mouth again (though that would serve to remove the come he'd thoughtfully let slick against Mettaton's length), or fit into his body elsewhere.... Impaled on his length, whether sitting on his lap, spread around him, or pressed down and mounted- there was too much he could want.
And his thoughts did center somewhat around Mettaton's cock, though he chooses not to blame or judge himself for that. Appreciating the rest of his lover's body went with it, anyway... from his thighs and hips, to the firmness of the chest jutting into his (not uncommonly would he be left with the imprint of dials to skin), and to his face, which he couldn't get enough of kissing.
So it's a kiss that he searches out now, encouraging Mettaton to turn to face him, to let him take his lips with his own (saliva, yes... outside of the careful way the robot had to kiss his body without hurting him unintentionally, he's reminded of that missing element again; it was still something he'd ask Mettaton over before wishing it into being, just in case the other man would prefer to skip the unglamorousness of drooling). Soft to start with, repeated brushes of them together, but with an insistence that couldn't help but increase. And with it, small matching rolls of his hips, stroking their lengths together. Hands at Mettaton's back to help anchor himself, his breath is a touch shaky as he barely interrupts a kiss in order to speak.]
In what way would you prefer my inspection?
[By taking him inside, in hand? In getting down on eye-level once more, and inevitably seek to lap him clean? He sighs heavily, heatedly, the sound paired with a push of his body, working to stimulate Mettaton's cock with his own. He was in the mood to be accommodating- which carried its own sense of neediness with it, an ache that had gone mostly unfulfilled these past months to... serve. To be something other than the contrary mess he always was.]
no subject
What else... what else did you have in mind?
[He felt amenable to anything he could think of- as what way was there that he wouldn't want his husband, now that he could see him to the heights of his pleasure? Whether it was stroked off by his hand or against any other part of his body, or taken into his mouth again (though that would serve to remove the come he'd thoughtfully let slick against Mettaton's length), or fit into his body elsewhere.... Impaled on his length, whether sitting on his lap, spread around him, or pressed down and mounted- there was too much he could want.
And his thoughts did center somewhat around Mettaton's cock, though he chooses not to blame or judge himself for that. Appreciating the rest of his lover's body went with it, anyway... from his thighs and hips, to the firmness of the chest jutting into his (not uncommonly would he be left with the imprint of dials to skin), and to his face, which he couldn't get enough of kissing.
So it's a kiss that he searches out now, encouraging Mettaton to turn to face him, to let him take his lips with his own (saliva, yes... outside of the careful way the robot had to kiss his body without hurting him unintentionally, he's reminded of that missing element again; it was still something he'd ask Mettaton over before wishing it into being, just in case the other man would prefer to skip the unglamorousness of drooling). Soft to start with, repeated brushes of them together, but with an insistence that couldn't help but increase. And with it, small matching rolls of his hips, stroking their lengths together. Hands at Mettaton's back to help anchor himself, his breath is a touch shaky as he barely interrupts a kiss in order to speak.]
In what way would you prefer my inspection?
[By taking him inside, in hand? In getting down on eye-level once more, and inevitably seek to lap him clean? He sighs heavily, heatedly, the sound paired with a push of his body, working to stimulate Mettaton's cock with his own. He was in the mood to be accommodating- which carried its own sense of neediness with it, an ache that had gone mostly unfulfilled these past months to... serve. To be something other than the contrary mess he always was.]