[He can slip under that airlessness, let it swallow him whole until the space of his mind is a dazed and floating blankness — Cy's grip at the back of his head finding no resistance as he's held down until the squeeze of his throat is a desperate, gagging channel. And when blackness threatens, he fights to withdraw and Cy lets him, sliding off his cock in a gasp of strangled breath, mouth open, strings of saliva glistening at his lips. He could do it again and again like this, listening to Cy speak until he can feel his own heart beating on his tongue and his ears are full of cotton.
When he responds, his voice is a rough scrape.]
No, sensei. [Dragging his wet mouth across the tender slit at the crown, lapping at it.] You're the only one. The rest are too easy. They're a joke.
[Down again, a messy slide into his throat. And he'll let Cy use him forever like this, unresisting to the roll of hips that make him take it a little deeper, a little further, managing the low vibration of a moan around the stretch.]
no subject
When he responds, his voice is a rough scrape.]
No, sensei. [Dragging his wet mouth across the tender slit at the crown, lapping at it.] You're the only one. The rest are too easy. They're a joke.
[Down again, a messy slide into his throat. And he'll let Cy use him forever like this, unresisting to the roll of hips that make him take it a little deeper, a little further, managing the low vibration of a moan around the stretch.]