John turned his head to press his cheek flat to the cool wood. A pleased noise escaped him at the touch of Babe's hand and he shifted restlessly. He reached a hand behind him to clutch at Babe's hip.
That very restlessness made him smile and slow his touches. The arch of John's back, the curve of his hips, slipping down over his ass, tracing a line back up the insides of his thighs. "You in a hurry?" he muttered as he pulled back and away. "Stay there."
He'd only gone to the other room to find some lubricant. But he didn't rush, ditching his shorts in the bedroom at the same time. It was a pretty amazing thing to see, he thought, John's bare ass, his body bent over like that. He let out a low huff of breath as he stood behind him, thighs touching. Smirking he uncapped the bottle, letting it drip down onto skin, sliding a finger through it, down the crease of John's ass. "I like it when you're naked. I like it when I'm naked when you're naked," he almost laughed.
John shook a little as he laughed, pushing up onto his forearms so he could look back at the other man, lips kiss-swollen and cheeks flushed. "What poetry."
There was a laugh this time, even as he smacked John's ass with the flat of one hand. "Poetry my ass. Or your ass," that amused him and he grinned as he looked over at him, slick fingers twisting and pressing their way into him.
The smack was painfully arousing. The intruding fingers followed quickly, and so John's clever comment about his fantastic ass was cut off by a pleased groan. He pushed back, spine arching as he pressed for more.
That was what Babe wanted, turning his fingers inside of John, pressing against him leaning over him. That he wanted him was obvious, but he was holding himself back for the moment.
"Just about that, I think," he liked the note in John's voice, pulling fingers from him to press his cock to John's entrance, slick with lube but still tight. The first thrust was always a rush, pushing himself deep, hands going flat on John's back.
"Nnngfuck," he moaned as he was shoved forward, head dropping forward and hands curling tight against the smooth wood. He bit his lip against the sensation of being filled, stretched, of being fucked.
Babe actually grinned at that, pausing a moment inside of John. "You always feel so fucking good," he said, pulling back and thrusting, going deep each time. Humis hands on KJohn's back still, he watched himself move in and out, his pace quickening with his pulse.
His own breath was catching, each thrust sending him flush against the other man. The slap of skin made his pulse race, his blunt nails dragging down John's back to his hips.
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