Firetrucks? Jim is raising the eloquence stakes here and by the way, guh :-)) Plus, we're up to 1600 words here...
Jim has a handful of slipperiness and his mouth tastes of Blair's skin, salted with sweat and need, but it's not quite enough. After he's wiped his hand on a dry piece of flannel a few inches away from where his come has soaked in, he raises his hand to his mouth and licks it.
"I can taste it," he tells Blair and he can talk now that Blair's been reduced to gape-mouthed, blissed-out silence. "Yesterday, I couldn't taste anything."
"For a man who complains about algae shakes..." Blair husks. "Fuck, what was that? That was good. no, that was great, except -- what the hell was that?"
Jim would have liked the silence to have lasted longer. He's already worked out that it equals applause and he's planning something later, when he doesn't need his mouth for breathing, that will get him a standing ovation of ooh, three minutes, easy.
Thirty seconds for a quality hand job like that -- when he's still officially sick, dammit -- seems a little... inadequate.
He'd been rendered incapable of speech for a full minute.
So, it was like that was it? Bring it on, Sandburg...
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Jim has a handful of slipperiness and his mouth tastes of Blair's skin, salted with sweat and need, but it's not quite enough. After he's wiped his hand on a dry piece of flannel a few inches away from where his come has soaked in, he raises his hand to his mouth and licks it.
"I can taste it," he tells Blair and he can talk now that Blair's been reduced to gape-mouthed, blissed-out silence. "Yesterday, I couldn't taste anything."
"For a man who complains about algae shakes..." Blair husks. "Fuck, what was that? That was good. no, that was great, except -- what the hell was that?"
Jim would have liked the silence to have lasted longer. He's already worked out that it equals applause and he's planning something later, when he doesn't need his mouth for breathing, that will get him a standing ovation of ooh, three minutes, easy.
Thirty seconds for a quality hand job like that -- when he's still officially sick, dammit -- seems a little... inadequate.
He'd been rendered incapable of speech for a full minute.
So, it was like that was it? Bring it on, Sandburg...