"Yes...that's so good, yes..." Weps lets out a long rasping groan of pleasure and relief at the feel of Clay's hands on his body. The hand at Clays' neck relaxes and his fingers press gently against his nape.

"Yes...yes," he grates out, thrusting carefully at first, not wanting to hurt, but the friction and heat of Clay's mouth is too much and Weps thrusts deeper, moaning loudly now, almost keening, his breathing ragged.

Weps thrusts into Clay's mouth one last time, his hips locked and comes with a hoarse howl of pleasure, his hands gripping Clay's hair.