Games
Games, play a game... He's there for you, leaning against that wall, the brickwork scraping rough against his arse, his eyes, his bold green eyes downcast, submissive, waiting. If you asked him to, he'd turn around and his fingers would undo the button, unzip the zip, and he'd push down those jeans, ruck up that shirt and jacket, and... There he'd be, waiting.
For you.
If you wanted to, you'd put your hands on that arse, and he'd beg you with a sigh. You'd push your cock deep into him, and he'd gasp your name, and...
If you wanted to.