[Tate may have underestimated how slack his jaw needs to be for this, and after the head of Derek's cock slips past his lips he has to relax himself not to lock up around it. His lips drag, tongue flush to the warmth of Derek's shaft as Tate tries to move forward on it - one hand firmly at the base and the other curled beneath that to hold his sack. His fingers fondle it, trying to be good - trying to apply the few things he knows works on other people to Derek, even if he's still clumsy with execution.
Derek, however, is bigger than the - two? two whole dicks Tate's seen, held and sucked. Not just in length but in girth, and it's definitely wrenching his plans to be show how good of a dick sucking slut he is when he's only got the head past his lips and already feels his tongue pinned down. Deep breath in and Tate forces himself to move, slipping one hand onto Derek's thigh to hold on as he bobs forward. He gets notably more enthused when he feels fingers in his hair, reminiscent of what he asked Derek to do mere moments ago.
The tip of Derek's cock starts going far enough back in his throat to make Tate's gag reflex begin to tingle, and he balls his hand into a fist and squeezes on his thumb to gently abate it. His other hand firmly holds Derek's cock, pumping what's left unsucked, in line with how he's bobbing and nursing at the other half. Is it even half? Tate can't tell, his eyes are closed and he's breathing hard through flared nostrils.
Finally, his eyes open, and he tries to look up at Derek - to catch any glimpse of him, through the veil of his hair in his eyes. Looking for more of the reassurance he can feel, and to see whether or not it's okay that he can't exactly deepthroat him the way he wanted to. To make amends, Tate pulls off and then sticks tow of his fingers into his mouth to wet them.]
I can do what I want, right?
[His voice is hoarse after he pulls off his fingers with a wet pop, fingers slick with a heavy coating of spit. Regardless of what Derek says, Tate's back on his cock. All his response affects is whether or not Tate's wet fingers can slip up between Derek's legs to probe at his hole.]
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Derek, however, is bigger than the - two? two whole dicks Tate's seen, held and sucked. Not just in length but in girth, and it's definitely wrenching his plans to be show how good of a dick sucking slut he is when he's only got the head past his lips and already feels his tongue pinned down. Deep breath in and Tate forces himself to move, slipping one hand onto Derek's thigh to hold on as he bobs forward. He gets notably more enthused when he feels fingers in his hair, reminiscent of what he asked Derek to do mere moments ago.
The tip of Derek's cock starts going far enough back in his throat to make Tate's gag reflex begin to tingle, and he balls his hand into a fist and squeezes on his thumb to gently abate it. His other hand firmly holds Derek's cock, pumping what's left unsucked, in line with how he's bobbing and nursing at the other half. Is it even half? Tate can't tell, his eyes are closed and he's breathing hard through flared nostrils.
Finally, his eyes open, and he tries to look up at Derek - to catch any glimpse of him, through the veil of his hair in his eyes. Looking for more of the reassurance he can feel, and to see whether or not it's okay that he can't exactly deepthroat him the way he wanted to. To make amends, Tate pulls off and then sticks tow of his fingers into his mouth to wet them.]
I can do what I want, right?
[His voice is hoarse after he pulls off his fingers with a wet pop, fingers slick with a heavy coating of spit. Regardless of what Derek says, Tate's back on his cock. All his response affects is whether or not Tate's wet fingers can slip up between Derek's legs to probe at his hole.]