[By the time Shiro's hand slips down, warm and roughened and gentle, Matt's head is heavy with blind, instinctive wanting. His heartbeat is throbbing where he's so sensitive it hurts -- sore on his chest, thick and slippery between his legs, pulsing under Shiro's lips against his neck. The fingers curling between his slick thighs makes him wobble forward, knees buckling a little from the urge to drop down, present himself, offer himself up to the stallion.
Shiro. It's Shiro, he's huge and beautiful and dizzying, but he's still Shiro. Matt's hands are trembling, but they find the ridges of muscle, Shiro's abdomen and chest, cross-crossed with scars. He strokes over them, with a sort of reverent awe, arching his back and pressing closer.]
[ he curls an arm around the small of matt's back to support him when he wobbles. he's-- well, he's wet under shiro's hand like a girl, like a furiously aroused girl, and even though shiro's been with plenty of breeders and knows that they've been altered to generously produce lubrication for mating, regardless of anything the stud did, it still feels like this is for shiro, that he'd inspired this level of wanting in matt.
it makes a difference. the way matt touches him in return makes him shiver, muscles bunching and relaxing under his fingers. it's not the way other handlers have touched him, taunting or mechanically moving him to arousal. he can smell matt's eagerness, and how compatible they are. ]
You... you do too.
[ he smells amazing, actually, the more aroused he is. shiro's fingers rub over him carefully, learning the new territory, and he thumbs over matt's clit once or twice before realizing what he's actually touching, glancing down in surprise. ]
[By the time Shiro actually glances down, Matt's mind is hazy, cohesive thought replaced by base, wordless urges, instincts to submit, to offer himself however Shiro wants him, against the wall, on his hands and knees, anywhere, anyway, anytime. He hurts with emptiness, and even the slight hesitation when Shiro realizes where his hands are is unbearable.
Bossier than he means to be, Matt pins his ears back, whines in impatience and, one hand darting down to cover Shiro's, presses his fingers closer through the slick, thighs squeezing around his hand.]
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Shiro. It's Shiro, he's huge and beautiful and dizzying, but he's still Shiro. Matt's hands are trembling, but they find the ridges of muscle, Shiro's abdomen and chest, cross-crossed with scars. He strokes over them, with a sort of reverent awe, arching his back and pressing closer.]
You smell so good...
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it makes a difference. the way matt touches him in return makes him shiver, muscles bunching and relaxing under his fingers. it's not the way other handlers have touched him, taunting or mechanically moving him to arousal. he can smell matt's eagerness, and how compatible they are. ]
You... you do too.
[ he smells amazing, actually, the more aroused he is. shiro's fingers rub over him carefully, learning the new territory, and he thumbs over matt's clit once or twice before realizing what he's actually touching, glancing down in surprise. ]
Oh... oh.
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Bossier than he means to be, Matt pins his ears back, whines in impatience and, one hand darting down to cover Shiro's, presses his fingers closer through the slick, thighs squeezing around his hand.]
Don't stop.