So it took a little while, but we're getting there! Hopefully Valentine's weekend you'll put aside your friends, family, and lovers to come write about Blackwood and Coward! xD
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In most things, Coward cedes control. Or rather, he voices no objection when Blackwood simply assumes his is the deciding voice, and thus is seldom faced with the possibility of being forced to give way. For the most part, this does not bother him, for he is well aware that, should push come to shove, he is confident in knowing exactly who will win.
There are certain areas, however, where Blackwood is agreeable - nay, say willing - to offer up his compliance. They are few and they are generally private moments, hidden away from any judging, considering eyes, but they do exist, and Coward has become quite the expert at discovering them, cataloging their intricacies.
Such as this moment, sprawled on his stomach, arms wrapped comfortably around Blackwood's thighs as he licks a slow, wide line up the length of Blackwood's cock. It is a position he can easily maintain for hours, and has every intention of doing so. Even if he cannot draw out a single orgasm for that long, it is mapped out in his mind, the long, slow teasing, edging, cajoling fantasy he entertains at night, when Blackwood is busy with other things. Every sigh, every bite off curse, every plea is his to savor, his to wring out of Blackwood wih care and control and denial, as he brings him, straining, to the very edge of orgasm, again and again and again, only to withdraw, to leave Blackwood nothing but the coolness of his breath against his cock as he thrusts needily into the air, begging for completeion.
He will take his time, will leisurely enjoy himself, while Blackwood becomes ever more frantic for it to end, for release, but this, this, this is something Blackwood gives him, this ability to swallow him whole, physically and metaphorically, to consume his passions and his control and reduce him to such a shivering, desperate, vocal ruin of a gentleman.
It is somehow only more alluring to know that Blakcwood considers this loss of control a choice, rather than a surrender.
There are certain areas, however, where Blackwood is agreeable - nay, say willing - to offer up his compliance. They are few and they are generally private moments, hidden away from any judging, considering eyes, but they do exist, and Coward has become quite the expert at discovering them, cataloging their intricacies.
Such as this moment, sprawled on his stomach, arms wrapped comfortably around Blackwood's thighs as he licks a slow, wide line up the length of Blackwood's cock. It is a position he can easily maintain for hours, and has every intention of doing so. Even if he cannot draw out a single orgasm for that long, it is mapped out in his mind, the long, slow teasing, edging, cajoling fantasy he entertains at night, when Blackwood is busy with other things. Every sigh, every bite off curse, every plea is his to savor, his to wring out of Blackwood wih care and control and denial, as he brings him, straining, to the very edge of orgasm, again and again and again, only to withdraw, to leave Blackwood nothing but the coolness of his breath against his cock as he thrusts needily into the air, begging for completeion.
He will take his time, will leisurely enjoy himself, while Blackwood becomes ever more frantic for it to end, for release, but this, this, this is something Blackwood gives him, this ability to swallow him whole, physically and metaphorically, to consume his passions and his control and reduce him to such a shivering, desperate, vocal ruin of a gentleman.
It is somehow only more alluring to know that Blakcwood considers this loss of control a choice, rather than a surrender.
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