[The more the seconds stretch on, the more MTT wanted Emet-Selch stretched instead, and soon. It wasn't impatience but anticipation, as the injustice of their months spent without sex was starting to wear, as though it already hadn't. It wasn't right! They wanted their bodily union, and with no avenue for it, the two of them had been left with swollen hearts and an ache that they each saw in each other's eyes... but that they longed to relieve with the stroke of a cock, the filling and emptying of their bodies. This is how they're made to express themselves.
Emet-Selch wanted him thick, and it spurs him toward a heavier arousal, it felt like. His body, shaped this way by the power of Emet-Selch's prayer, responded to him and him alone- and were he privy to the notion that it was Mettaton Emet-Selch thought himself most swayed by (and he'd agree, this wasn't news to him), he'd have to sweetly and softly concur that Emet-Selch himself is a special man- and uniquely capable of arousing Mettaton in a way unlike any other. His responses, his willingness to offer himself up, his servitude- all of it combined to leave Mettaton willing and wanting to pounce, to ravish him and hear his voice soar.
It... felt like enough time to be reasonably prepared, MTT thought. How much time did it take to prep with something that was only relatively similar to lubricant? Emet-Selch whines, and Mettaton answers with a similarly keening note, nudging the smaller man with the underside of his root in short, small thrusts. He wanted to take over the duties of his fingers as they stretched and spread...
With a sigh partnered with a kiss to his cheek, Mettaton's voice hitches, the closest he could get to a gasp for air.]
Doesn't this feel like a temptation enough, size-wise? [Is he not thick enough for something to promise a fuller filling? Mettaton squirms, thighs positively aching.] I'm giving you the promise of my size... and you, the promise of- of such warmth, unlike anything I've experienced in this body...
[It was the first thing he looked forward to: his lover's warmth, and his specifically. Sure, sure, other bodies were warm- but he wanted Emet-Selch, and he wanted him stretched and tight around his girth, slipping gradually down his length until he was agonizingly settled around his root. Mettaton imagined that sight like a dream, moaning with a closed eye as he envisions Emet-Selch suggestively hiding a thick cock, stuck to his lover's lap and secured in his spot. Aside from his nudity, it would only be obvious by the flush of his nude body, and the upright length between them that would be painfully swollen...
Mettaton shifts again, pulling Emet-Selch even closer. That's because he's maneuvering himself, arching his back first, then squirming just enough to force Emet-Selch over his lap- until his cock springs up, let to curve along Emet-Selch's backside, between spread cheeks and against slicked fingers. Mettaton growls, though it's mostly a moan: even though he was deeply wanting of penetration, he was still patient enough to wait for Emet-Selch to ready himself. After all, he did say MTT would be ready only as soon as Emet-Selch was, and he agreed with that]
Hades... Don't you think? That... That this will satisfy? How do you feel?
[In all truth, at the end of the day, Mettaton didn't want to do something Emet-Selch would regret. ...If the smaller man was willing to endure pain, he was willing, too. He knew their appetite, and the gentle rolls of his hips are firm, controlled: he demonstrates that he could be with a deliberate pace, enough that any lack of preparation should be able to be worked through with kneading force.]
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Emet-Selch wanted him thick, and it spurs him toward a heavier arousal, it felt like. His body, shaped this way by the power of Emet-Selch's prayer, responded to him and him alone- and were he privy to the notion that it was Mettaton Emet-Selch thought himself most swayed by (and he'd agree, this wasn't news to him), he'd have to sweetly and softly concur that Emet-Selch himself is a special man- and uniquely capable of arousing Mettaton in a way unlike any other. His responses, his willingness to offer himself up, his servitude- all of it combined to leave Mettaton willing and wanting to pounce, to ravish him and hear his voice soar.
It... felt like enough time to be reasonably prepared, MTT thought. How much time did it take to prep with something that was only relatively similar to lubricant? Emet-Selch whines, and Mettaton answers with a similarly keening note, nudging the smaller man with the underside of his root in short, small thrusts. He wanted to take over the duties of his fingers as they stretched and spread...
With a sigh partnered with a kiss to his cheek, Mettaton's voice hitches, the closest he could get to a gasp for air.]
Doesn't this feel like a temptation enough, size-wise? [Is he not thick enough for something to promise a fuller filling? Mettaton squirms, thighs positively aching.] I'm giving you the promise of my size... and you, the promise of- of such warmth, unlike anything I've experienced in this body...
[It was the first thing he looked forward to: his lover's warmth, and his specifically. Sure, sure, other bodies were warm- but he wanted Emet-Selch, and he wanted him stretched and tight around his girth, slipping gradually down his length until he was agonizingly settled around his root. Mettaton imagined that sight like a dream, moaning with a closed eye as he envisions Emet-Selch suggestively hiding a thick cock, stuck to his lover's lap and secured in his spot. Aside from his nudity, it would only be obvious by the flush of his nude body, and the upright length between them that would be painfully swollen...
Mettaton shifts again, pulling Emet-Selch even closer. That's because he's maneuvering himself, arching his back first, then squirming just enough to force Emet-Selch over his lap- until his cock springs up, let to curve along Emet-Selch's backside, between spread cheeks and against slicked fingers. Mettaton growls, though it's mostly a moan: even though he was deeply wanting of penetration, he was still patient enough to wait for Emet-Selch to ready himself. After all, he did say MTT would be ready only as soon as Emet-Selch was, and he agreed with that]
Hades... Don't you think? That... That this will satisfy? How do you feel?
[In all truth, at the end of the day, Mettaton didn't want to do something Emet-Selch would regret. ...If the smaller man was willing to endure pain, he was willing, too. He knew their appetite, and the gentle rolls of his hips are firm, controlled: he demonstrates that he could be with a deliberate pace, enough that any lack of preparation should be able to be worked through with kneading force.]