[ Sandalphon leans into the touch on his face, relishing the contact, both of his fingers and cock. Belial talking about training leaves him both a little confused and excited. He's not sure what it means besides teaching him how to swallow, but he's pleased with Belial teaching him exactly how to please him so he can do it better, and by the way he says it, it really does sound nice. It seems to echo in his mind and reverberate, the thought stroking the slowly steadily growing fire that has reawakened all too quickly. Before he can respond or even think on his answer, Belial's sliding himself back in, and he takes it in happily, somewhat dismayed when in his hurry he seems to, in spite of his best efforts, recklessly let his teeth graze it— yet he swears the noise Belial makes doesn't sound like a displeased one.
Whatever the case, he's quick to get back to work, continuing the workings of his hand and mouth from earlier with as much if not more enthusiasm, as if there had been no interruption, spurred on by again feeling Belial grabbing at his hair, the dull pain in his scalp its own sweet counterpoint to the pleasure he takes just in this action and his current position. He can feel in the intensifying throbbing that Belial is getting even closer, but when he finally does it comes almost as a surprise. He's never experienced watching someone orgasm from this close and from his own hand and it leaves him dizzy and confused before his attention refocuses on Belial's face. The sight of him, the look on his face, is utterly captivating— and Sandalphon doesn't even notice the liquid splattering his lips, so transfixed he is watching such a perfectly handsome face that seems to be the center of his whole world in this moment shift in an expression that so he loses himself to pure uncontrollable pleasure. The thrill of it all resonates deep, deep within Sandalphon, somewhere deeper than his own core.
He would almost be disappointed that it didn't splatter further upwards and closer to his eyes, were it not for how he gets to see this for himself. ]
Belial...
[ He lets out a stuttering breath, biting his lip, finally registering the warmth of sticky come on his mouth and chin— he likes the feeling, but the need within him arising again is so potent, his burning lust so raw, he's unable to focus on it. The longing to finally feel Belial inside him again, to feel those lips pressed against his own and that tongue in his mouth, to be stripped of all his remaining clothes, bared to him, and then, finally, taken and fucked— it's becoming downright unbearable, all the more so now, and he wants to ask him, to beg him, to do all of these things at once, and the influx overwhelms him until he is unable to voice any of it. Something seems to slowly dampen his ability to speak, as if the pleasant fog in his head is reaching in even deeper after it settled in, coaxing such functions into sleep. ]
no subject
Whatever the case, he's quick to get back to work, continuing the workings of his hand and mouth from earlier with as much if not more enthusiasm, as if there had been no interruption, spurred on by again feeling Belial grabbing at his hair, the dull pain in his scalp its own sweet counterpoint to the pleasure he takes just in this action and his current position. He can feel in the intensifying throbbing that Belial is getting even closer, but when he finally does it comes almost as a surprise. He's never experienced watching someone orgasm from this close and from his own hand and it leaves him dizzy and confused before his attention refocuses on Belial's face. The sight of him, the look on his face, is utterly captivating— and Sandalphon doesn't even notice the liquid splattering his lips, so transfixed he is watching such a perfectly handsome face that seems to be the center of his whole world in this moment shift in an expression that so he loses himself to pure uncontrollable pleasure. The thrill of it all resonates deep, deep within Sandalphon, somewhere deeper than his own core.
He would almost be disappointed that it didn't splatter further upwards and closer to his eyes, were it not for how he gets to see this for himself. ]
Belial...
[ He lets out a stuttering breath, biting his lip, finally registering the warmth of sticky come on his mouth and chin— he likes the feeling, but the need within him arising again is so potent, his burning lust so raw, he's unable to focus on it. The longing to finally feel Belial inside him again, to feel those lips pressed against his own and that tongue in his mouth, to be stripped of all his remaining clothes, bared to him, and then, finally, taken and fucked— it's becoming downright unbearable, all the more so now, and he wants to ask him, to beg him, to do all of these things at once, and the influx overwhelms him until he is unable to voice any of it. Something seems to slowly dampen his ability to speak, as if the pleasant fog in his head is reaching in even deeper after it settled in, coaxing such functions into sleep. ]