[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.
no subject
"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.
no subject
He strokes himself as he continues to suckle Weps' cock, nuzzling the soft skin between thigh and hip.