Gustavain moans softly, deliriously, at the drag of Phillip's fingers down his throat, back arching slightly like he could get him closer like that, and he moans again at the kiss, can't seem to stay quiet now that he doesn't have to, into the kiss. His side of it is heated but languid, like he can't really muddle through the pursuit of anything.
Truthfully, it's hard to muddle through anything at all. Unless Phillip's just gone completely for broke and turned the brightness all the way up, there's still enough thought process left for him to know things like where they are and who he is, but there's not room for whole lot left besides. The friction leaves him writhing more, chasing more of it, and losing the stimulation of the toy makes him whine in disappointment. He probably could use a little more prep, the toy's only really large enough to make sure it stayed in, but he also rolls his hips thoughtlessly against any kind of pressure and he's also slick and open enough to easily take a finger-- and will, if Phillip's got one in the vicinity and doesn't stop him.
Either way, Gustavain's brow furrows at the question. He's usually so quick-witted that he's sometimes a bit dangerous with it, but right now, the words swim, don't wholly make sense to him. What isn't he ready for? But then it's like Phillip feeds him words and he grabs onto them like a drowning man,
"Too eager to wait..." that seems right, and he doesn't hear how much it sounds like parroting over the sound of his addled brain accepting that as truth. It's possible it wouldn't be so easy without him already being turned on and truthfully entirely too eager even without the toys-- the sentence just gives proper, acceptable context for what he's already feeling and he accepts it without further thought,
"Fuck me," he follows it with, his voice hitting a tremulous little pleading note, tries to spread his thighs a little more to make it more appealing.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-05-24 07:33 pm (UTC)Truthfully, it's hard to muddle through anything at all. Unless Phillip's just gone completely for broke and turned the brightness all the way up, there's still enough thought process left for him to know things like where they are and who he is, but there's not room for whole lot left besides. The friction leaves him writhing more, chasing more of it, and losing the stimulation of the toy makes him whine in disappointment. He probably could use a little more prep, the toy's only really large enough to make sure it stayed in, but he also rolls his hips thoughtlessly against any kind of pressure and he's also slick and open enough to easily take a finger-- and will, if Phillip's got one in the vicinity and doesn't stop him.
Either way, Gustavain's brow furrows at the question. He's usually so quick-witted that he's sometimes a bit dangerous with it, but right now, the words swim, don't wholly make sense to him. What isn't he ready for? But then it's like Phillip feeds him words and he grabs onto them like a drowning man,
"Too eager to wait..." that seems right, and he doesn't hear how much it sounds like parroting over the sound of his addled brain accepting that as truth. It's possible it wouldn't be so easy without him already being turned on and truthfully entirely too eager even without the toys-- the sentence just gives proper, acceptable context for what he's already feeling and he accepts it without further thought,
"Fuck me," he follows it with, his voice hitting a tremulous little pleading note, tries to spread his thighs a little more to make it more appealing.