[He's expecting it, but being pushed down further still makes him gag around Dirk's cock. There's tears welling up in Connor's eyes, but he lets Dirk move him by his hair. When he was first growing it out in an act of teenage rebellion, girls told him it was getting shaggy, unkempt. It wasn't until he was on his knees in the concrete bathroom of a park, gagging on the cock of some other guy on the same wilderness retreat, he realized why he liked his hair longer.
You're such a pretty slut, the guy had said, taking my cock like you were made for it.
Like that, with someone's hand in his hair to keep him where they wanted, Connor had come, untouched, in his jeans. This is much the same. He does as Dirk asks, moving both his hand and mouth in time with Dirk's urging, and desperately wishes he was presumptuous enough to carry lube around all the time. Maybe he should start. Actually, he's going to start if Dirk lets him keep doing this. Like this, literally gagging for it, it's easy to think of the future. Of what he wants. Of next, next, next.
If he were any good at self-reflection, he might think about what that means. He's not, and he doesn't.]
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You're such a pretty slut, the guy had said, taking my cock like you were made for it.
Like that, with someone's hand in his hair to keep him where they wanted, Connor had come, untouched, in his jeans. This is much the same. He does as Dirk asks, moving both his hand and mouth in time with Dirk's urging, and desperately wishes he was presumptuous enough to carry lube around all the time. Maybe he should start. Actually, he's going to start if Dirk lets him keep doing this. Like this, literally gagging for it, it's easy to think of the future. Of what he wants. Of next, next, next.
If he were any good at self-reflection, he might think about what that means. He's not, and he doesn't.]