“You do like that,” Don agreed, “don’t you? That feels good, me filling you up…” He drew back, thrust again: loving the skilled plush welcome of that mouth, the way Raine tried to moan and lick and suck at him, the way Raine gave up trying, no being in control here, and settled into his grip and the motions.
Don rewarded him with harder thrusts for that, faster, deeper; Raine was making broken noises and moving his hips as if unable to help himself, mouth wet and obedient, taking everything. His lovely spring-leaf eyes began looking faraway, distant, clouded by rainbows; Don steadied his head with both hands, keeping him exactly in place, and Raine shivered all over and his eyelashes swept down and up, fluttering.
Raine’s c**k, Don noticed, glancing down further, was leaking copiously: a
