Essek's head is spinning. Two of Verin's fingers press into him with obscene ease, but not too deep, dipping just far enough to test how well-stretched his hole is. He makes a soft, tight noise in his throat that he is too proud to call a whine, and feels his brother's cock throb between his thighs.
Verin is filthy and sweet in the same breath, calling him endearments like my bright star while he questions what he was doing to put his body in such a receptive state. Essek shuts his mouth and shakes his head in stubborn refusal at first, half hiding his face against a pillow. Because he knows exactly what he was doing and he knows that telling Verin will only encourage his frankly vulgar impudence. (Maybe that is what he wants.)
But he can't avoid answering forever. He knows his terrible, boorish brother will fuck it out of him sooner rather than later. He smothers his sounds of pleasure into the pillow as much as he can as Verin begins thrusting between his tightly clenched legs. The heavy heat of his hard cock feels hotter still with the slick friction between them, like a brand against the tender, sensitive skin along the inside of his thighs.
As incredible as this must feel for Verin, for Essek it's a drawn-out tease. It's so good, and there are jolts of more intense sensation when Verin's length rubs against his balls or his thrusts make enough of an impact to bounce the dripping tip of Essek's cock against the sheets or his own legs, but it will never get him off at this angle. And perhaps that is by design. His toes curl as his brother's fingers stroke over his loose hole with more oil. He craves fullness, but he isn't ready to admit just how much yet.
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Verin is filthy and sweet in the same breath, calling him endearments like my bright star while he questions what he was doing to put his body in such a receptive state. Essek shuts his mouth and shakes his head in stubborn refusal at first, half hiding his face against a pillow. Because he knows exactly what he was doing and he knows that telling Verin will only encourage his frankly vulgar impudence. (Maybe that is what he wants.)
But he can't avoid answering forever. He knows his terrible, boorish brother will fuck it out of him sooner rather than later. He smothers his sounds of pleasure into the pillow as much as he can as Verin begins thrusting between his tightly clenched legs. The heavy heat of his hard cock feels hotter still with the slick friction between them, like a brand against the tender, sensitive skin along the inside of his thighs.
As incredible as this must feel for Verin, for Essek it's a drawn-out tease. It's so good, and there are jolts of more intense sensation when Verin's length rubs against his balls or his thrusts make enough of an impact to bounce the dripping tip of Essek's cock against the sheets or his own legs, but it will never get him off at this angle. And perhaps that is by design. His toes curl as his brother's fingers stroke over his loose hole with more oil. He craves fullness, but he isn't ready to admit just how much yet.