[locked to
peter_weps_ince]
Clay is walking along the shoreline. His jeans are wet from the spray but he doesn’t seem to notice.
He is wearing a jacket for once.
He isn’t looking for Weps.
Exactly.
He is wearing a jacket for once.
He isn’t looking for Weps.
Exactly.
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Clay's lips are warm, his tongue even more so, leaving a wet trail cooling in the air.
He keeps his hands at his sides, caressing Weps with his mouth alone, very slowly moving further down.
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He kneels down to continue his exploration, lapping at Weps' hips, the soft skin between hip and thigh, biting down and letting go, brushing Wep's cock with his cheek.
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A rough groan escapes him as Clay touches his aching cock, and the fingers at Clay's neck curl into a fist.
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He looks up at Weps, wetting his lips and then lets his mouth slide down his cock, a slow, slick movement, pausing when he is halfway and then letting Weps' cock slide slowly back out, stopping when his lips are right below the head, moving his tongue a little, looking at Weps.
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"Fuck, that feels goddamned good," Weps groans, watching his cock slide in and out of Clay's lips. "You've a truly beautiful mouth."
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He wants to hear him.
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"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.
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He strokes himself as he continues to suckle Weps' cock, nuzzling the soft skin between thigh and hip.