[Emet-Selch was already hard, but Mettaton swore he felt the rush of arousal that pulsed through him at the combination of slick semen pressed to his lips, mixed with the hardness he was forced to ride over. A cock they both saw fit to set him atop, as the robot envisioned their mutual pleasure at stuffing him full, enough that Emet-Selch would comfortably sit in his lap.
Comfort mattered, after all, because Mettaton valued Emet-Selch's well-being. And... even if it were technically possible for the stubborn Ascian to find relief in being stretched too far, too dry, Mettaton wouldn't enjoy an encounter that wasn't made appropriately slippery. Even that growl couldn't convince him of that, though he couldn't help it:]
God, you're so hot. [Mettaton nearly growls back, stooping in to take Emet-Selch in another kiss: this one more heated than the last, with teeth to answer the smaller man's bite.] All you have to do is keep doing what you're doing, and you'll have me hard enough to fuck in no time, sweetheart.
[Emet-Selch knew the drill. With the robot made totally rigid, and beneath Emet-Selch as he is, he wouldn't be able to even stop him from maneuvering over his lap and seating himself on his cock- and from there, Mettaton would be helpless in the face of pleasure, incapable of keeping from toppling him back and stealing him up.
With a heated sigh, Mettaton wraps his husband up tight in his arm, though he doesn't keep him so restrained that he couldn't move- because the way Emet-Selch was slipping forward, settling his weight deeper onto his root, is enough to have Mettaton groan.]
Though you know... Ha. It won't take much.
[He'd be a ridiculously easy lay, and Emet-Selch would have no trouble coaxing him into his fullest arousal, erection filled enough to be agonizingly rigid. And though he knew he looked impressive now, he knew he had some stiffness to regain- even though everything the smaller man did encouraged him in that direction, from the sounds on his voice to the eager brightness of his eyes. He doesn't need to try to explain the safety of his ejaculate, because he knew Emet-Selch would swallow it regardless of it all, given that it reminded him of all else he'd ever been able to produce. The tint and glitter is a non-issue- but the robot didn't mind Emet-Selch's ability to complain about it all.
Gripping his ass, squeezing and kneading cheeks, Mettaton urges Emet-Selch deeper onto his lap, kissing at his neck.]
Why don't you... come close, Hades, and tell me what it would take to get me to fuck you. What do you think?
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Comfort mattered, after all, because Mettaton valued Emet-Selch's well-being. And... even if it were technically possible for the stubborn Ascian to find relief in being stretched too far, too dry, Mettaton wouldn't enjoy an encounter that wasn't made appropriately slippery. Even that growl couldn't convince him of that, though he couldn't help it:]
God, you're so hot. [Mettaton nearly growls back, stooping in to take Emet-Selch in another kiss: this one more heated than the last, with teeth to answer the smaller man's bite.] All you have to do is keep doing what you're doing, and you'll have me hard enough to fuck in no time, sweetheart.
[Emet-Selch knew the drill. With the robot made totally rigid, and beneath Emet-Selch as he is, he wouldn't be able to even stop him from maneuvering over his lap and seating himself on his cock- and from there, Mettaton would be helpless in the face of pleasure, incapable of keeping from toppling him back and stealing him up.
With a heated sigh, Mettaton wraps his husband up tight in his arm, though he doesn't keep him so restrained that he couldn't move- because the way Emet-Selch was slipping forward, settling his weight deeper onto his root, is enough to have Mettaton groan.]
Though you know... Ha. It won't take much.
[He'd be a ridiculously easy lay, and Emet-Selch would have no trouble coaxing him into his fullest arousal, erection filled enough to be agonizingly rigid. And though he knew he looked impressive now, he knew he had some stiffness to regain- even though everything the smaller man did encouraged him in that direction, from the sounds on his voice to the eager brightness of his eyes. He doesn't need to try to explain the safety of his ejaculate, because he knew Emet-Selch would swallow it regardless of it all, given that it reminded him of all else he'd ever been able to produce. The tint and glitter is a non-issue- but the robot didn't mind Emet-Selch's ability to complain about it all.
Gripping his ass, squeezing and kneading cheeks, Mettaton urges Emet-Selch deeper onto his lap, kissing at his neck.]
Why don't you... come close, Hades, and tell me what it would take to get me to fuck you. What do you think?