drabble; canon; nc-17; jack&ennis
The salty, hot taste of his cock…. The flavor….
The sweaty curls of hair that banged against his nose with the rhythm of each thrust….
The most intimate of all scents, setting him free with every shudder that ran through his body….
If Jack had known how to put it into words, he might have said something like this:
“Shove it in my throat, Ennis…. Gawd yeah, choke off my air, make me pass out…. Just like that…. Yeah, there! With yer hands on my neck….”
But the enthusiasm with which the job was done spoke far more, and more wisely, than either of them could; in the secret silence between two, a great many things were said.