Porn. It's what's for breakfast.
Hi, it's me. trianne made me do this.
It's Dominic, it's Elijah, it's short and dirty, it's R. I should have to mention it's RPS and it never happened? raaah.
Elijah's head rests on Dom's shoulder, looking down, watching both of Dom’s hands moving deliberately, maddeningly slow, stroking, then circling, the sliver of light from the edge of the stage curtain around them tracing a line up Elijah’s trouser leg and disappearing somewhere near the edge of his shirt hanging loose from his unzipped fly. Dom likes to feel Elijah’s breath coming a little faster, likes the way he moves a little closer still, how he will look up for a second and lock eyes with him and then flick down again- and Dom smiles, then quickens his pace, rewarded with a "gnuh" and stubby fingers round his waist, clinging and a scrape of teeth on his bare skin, where his throat joins his shoulder, breath warm and slightly beery. They can hear people close by and know they have to get this over with too soon. Dom pushes Elijah against the wall, stradding a thigh, pinning him with one hip, and clasps their cocks together, thrusting sharp into his sweat-slick hands, whispering naughty things in Lij's ear- and he’s in danger of sliding down the backstage wall and this is so intense, the stolen caresses are more vivid, more powerful... Elijah manages to bend his knees before they buckle, steadying himself against the dusty concrete wall, the sounds of the crowd outside somehow blurring into a rush of noise and his taut muscles vibrate and hum, softer, louder, his mouth holding the moan that threatens to give them away as Dom twists and pulls him forward into a spiraling dive, Dom's hands holding him fast as he kneels down, finishing Elijah with his mouth.
It's Dominic, it's Elijah, it's short and dirty, it's R. I should have to mention it's RPS and it never happened? raaah.
Elijah's head rests on Dom's shoulder, looking down, watching both of Dom’s hands moving deliberately, maddeningly slow, stroking, then circling, the sliver of light from the edge of the stage curtain around them tracing a line up Elijah’s trouser leg and disappearing somewhere near the edge of his shirt hanging loose from his unzipped fly. Dom likes to feel Elijah’s breath coming a little faster, likes the way he moves a little closer still, how he will look up for a second and lock eyes with him and then flick down again- and Dom smiles, then quickens his pace, rewarded with a "gnuh" and stubby fingers round his waist, clinging and a scrape of teeth on his bare skin, where his throat joins his shoulder, breath warm and slightly beery. They can hear people close by and know they have to get this over with too soon. Dom pushes Elijah against the wall, stradding a thigh, pinning him with one hip, and clasps their cocks together, thrusting sharp into his sweat-slick hands, whispering naughty things in Lij's ear- and he’s in danger of sliding down the backstage wall and this is so intense, the stolen caresses are more vivid, more powerful... Elijah manages to bend his knees before they buckle, steadying himself against the dusty concrete wall, the sounds of the crowd outside somehow blurring into a rush of noise and his taut muscles vibrate and hum, softer, louder, his mouth holding the moan that threatens to give them away as Dom twists and pulls him forward into a spiraling dive, Dom's hands holding him fast as he kneels down, finishing Elijah with his mouth.