[ it’s just dirty talk. shiro doesn’t consider himself an aficionado for lewd words, but he thinks he does a decent enough job in riling keith up. the problem here – though, problem is a gross misrepresentation of how shiro feels about this – is that while shiro isn’t spurred on by the filth that comes out of his own mouth, he greatly underestimates the effect keith’s have. see, comfortably on his back, staring up at keith pleasure himself is wonderful, exciting, arousing, but mostly, it’s manageable. add keith not only moaning, but saying things – delightfully explicit things – back to him and shiro has a real concern that his dirty talk of cumming from just this, might not actually be just flirting to rouse keith’s desire.
i wanna be pumped full, shiro.
ah, fuck. wasn’t he just thinking that he wasn’t close? that, maybe, over a course of hefty time, keith could draw a slow-cresting orgasm out of him?
shiro squirms, only to stop immediately, because that certainly isn’t helping his restraint. it’s so slight, just a barely there shifting of his cock inside the heat and tightness of keith’s body, why does it feel like he’s just endured a milking? similar to the beating of keith’s quickened fist?
fill me up, sir. i wanna feel it sticky inside, and dripping down my legs.
that’s why. keith’s gone chatty, spelling absolute disaster for shiro, especially when this beautiful boy picks up where shiro left off, squirming and squeezing around his cock. shiro chokes on breath, eyes slamming shut and expression furrowing with deep wrinkles that make him look close to pain. he’s not, though. he’s so far away from pain. his system is overrun with pleasure and bliss and holy fuck, he’d been bullshitting. he’s not actually supposed to cum from just this.
fuck.
yeah, ditto. giving up on his desperate cling to keith’s wrist, shiro sends both hands out now to grasp at keith’s squirming hips. to stop him? in theory, but his body wants what it wants and even as it’s tensing on the tell-tale signs that have shiro’s brain yelling, his hands don’t cooperate beyond digging fingers in to ride the motion of keith’s hips. shiro has about one tick to think, he can survive this, he can endure this without embarrassing himself, but then keith’s reaching behind to squeeze his sac.
do it.
shit. shit. shit. shiro raises his gaze, eyes meeting keith’s and for a split moment, there’s a pinch to his brow and a look in his eyes that’s almost apologetic, but then he’s swept up in the cresting pleasure, the climb so swift and so sudden that it whites out his thoughts. he keeps his eyes open, but they’ve gone distant and unfocused, mouth opening to choke out keith’s name. it isn’t a short affair. his second orgasm of the night and yet, it’s long, heavy, messy. will it be enough to do all the things keith commanded from him? shiro is picturing all those filthy things, at the very least.
when it’s over, with his cock giving its last twitch and spit, shiro collapses into the sheets, body going lax as eyes close and mouth stays open, panting for breath. three, two, one… and then everything tightens, with his eyes flying open, only to then be covered by his hands across his face. ]
Oh my god.
[ mortification finds him first. give him a minute, perhaps he’ll find it in himself to laugh. until then? ]
That… I… [ still hiding behind his hands, he flaps his lips a few more times without any words coming out, before settling on: ] That wasn’t supposed to happen.
fjkjhg ah yes. your pokemoning in the low 30s weather. i wonder if s + k can pokemon in the tundra
i wanna be pumped full, shiro.
ah, fuck. wasn’t he just thinking that he wasn’t close? that, maybe, over a course of hefty time, keith could draw a slow-cresting orgasm out of him?
shiro squirms, only to stop immediately, because that certainly isn’t helping his restraint. it’s so slight, just a barely there shifting of his cock inside the heat and tightness of keith’s body, why does it feel like he’s just endured a milking? similar to the beating of keith’s quickened fist?
fill me up, sir. i wanna feel it sticky inside, and dripping down my legs.
that’s why. keith’s gone chatty, spelling absolute disaster for shiro, especially when this beautiful boy picks up where shiro left off, squirming and squeezing around his cock. shiro chokes on breath, eyes slamming shut and expression furrowing with deep wrinkles that make him look close to pain. he’s not, though. he’s so far away from pain. his system is overrun with pleasure and bliss and holy fuck, he’d been bullshitting. he’s not actually supposed to cum from just this.
fuck.
yeah, ditto. giving up on his desperate cling to keith’s wrist, shiro sends both hands out now to grasp at keith’s squirming hips. to stop him? in theory, but his body wants what it wants and even as it’s tensing on the tell-tale signs that have shiro’s brain yelling, his hands don’t cooperate beyond digging fingers in to ride the motion of keith’s hips. shiro has about one tick to think, he can survive this, he can endure this without embarrassing himself, but then keith’s reaching behind to squeeze his sac.
do it.
shit. shit. shit. shiro raises his gaze, eyes meeting keith’s and for a split moment, there’s a pinch to his brow and a look in his eyes that’s almost apologetic, but then he’s swept up in the cresting pleasure, the climb so swift and so sudden that it whites out his thoughts. he keeps his eyes open, but they’ve gone distant and unfocused, mouth opening to choke out keith’s name. it isn’t a short affair. his second orgasm of the night and yet, it’s long, heavy, messy. will it be enough to do all the things keith commanded from him? shiro is picturing all those filthy things, at the very least.
when it’s over, with his cock giving its last twitch and spit, shiro collapses into the sheets, body going lax as eyes close and mouth stays open, panting for breath. three, two, one… and then everything tightens, with his eyes flying open, only to then be covered by his hands across his face. ]
Oh my god.
[ mortification finds him first. give him a minute, perhaps he’ll find it in himself to laugh. until then? ]
That… I… [ still hiding behind his hands, he flaps his lips a few more times without any words coming out, before settling on: ] That wasn’t supposed to happen.