._. You should write porn. Because this is awesome. =D Also. Damn you again.
Good God, the thumb.
It slow strokes the soft, sensitive skin, sending an involuntary shiver skating down his arm. He tries to jerk away, to get away from the maddening touch, but he's stuck. Pinned in place. He subsides with a harsh, warning growl but that doesn't deter the other hand, the one that's creepy up his chest, slowly sliding his shirt up and baring his skin. Fingertips skim his sides, mapping out the lines of his body. They reach the top of his chest, thumbing at the nipple, before they slide back. They cross over his stomach, making him instinctively suck it in before they reach the waistband of his pants, sliding underneath. He starts to pant, squirming, because damn it, this is torture! He wants to touch, too.
He also wants to shove those teasing fingers down where they belong and he can't do that, either. All he can do is just lift up his hips, begging the only way that he's able, biting his lip to stop the pathetic pleading that he wants to voice. A quiet laugh is his only reward as the fingers skim at just the base of his cock, teasing, taunting, driving him crazy.
He's still pinned down, held by a gentle but unyielding grip, and that thumb is still stroking softly on the inside of his wrist. He gasps, desperately trying to keep himself together before he manages to come untouched, just from a little bit of light teasing. He'd never live it down.
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Good God, the thumb.
It slow strokes the soft, sensitive skin, sending an involuntary shiver skating down his arm. He tries to jerk away, to get away from the maddening touch, but he's stuck. Pinned in place. He subsides with a harsh, warning growl but that doesn't deter the other hand, the one that's creepy up his chest, slowly sliding his shirt up and baring his skin. Fingertips skim his sides, mapping out the lines of his body. They reach the top of his chest, thumbing at the nipple, before they slide back. They cross over his stomach, making him instinctively suck it in before they reach the waistband of his pants, sliding underneath. He starts to pant, squirming, because damn it, this is torture! He wants to touch, too.
He also wants to shove those teasing fingers down where they belong and he can't do that, either. All he can do is just lift up his hips, begging the only way that he's able, biting his lip to stop the pathetic pleading that he wants to voice. A quiet laugh is his only reward as the fingers skim at just the base of his cock, teasing, taunting, driving him crazy.
He's still pinned down, held by a gentle but unyielding grip, and that thumb is still stroking softly on the inside of his wrist. He gasps, desperately trying to keep himself together before he manages to come untouched, just from a little bit of light teasing. He'd never live it down.