[Tate's tongue swirls around Derek's cock with more ease the farther off of it he is, jaw a bit sore already but his lips wet with spit that streaks down his chin as he laps at the head of Derek's dick before sucking it again. His fingers find a similar rhythm of rubbing small circles around the tight ring of Derek's ass, fingering his hole with his middle finger and slowly applying a pressure against it - deliberately slow - to penetrate.
'What do you want to do', Derek asks him and Tate's still hung up on the three words before it. Do you... uh. He's not sure if that's an invite, an offer, a clarification that there's more on the table than he's asking for but Tate's alight with the possibility. He doesn't yet act on it because he's engrossed in what he's started out with but... the idea, it's seeded in his brain and as he looks up at Derek with his lips tight to his cock head, Tate's eyes are wide and thoughtful. He stares, keeping eye contact as his cheeks hollow and a lewd pop follows the next pull of his mouth off his dick.]
This.
[All he says before he's got another mouthful of dick, pushing forward until the bulk of it is against his tongue and in that same sweet moment he applies pressure to his fingertip to press it into Derek through any resulting turns of his hips. He almost bobs too far forward, pulling back when he starts to feel like he's about to retch, but continues - working forward and back with a sloppiness that suits him oddly enough. It's lewd, the noises he makes and the way he pushes himself forward and itches to peel off his shirt and feel the breeze. It's suddenly a lot warmer up here than a moment ago, and unlike Derek he's still cloaked in layers with his cock straining against his jeans.
'Do you... uh.' Fucking bastard, putting the thought in his head.]
no subject
'What do you want to do', Derek asks him and Tate's still hung up on the three words before it. Do you... uh. He's not sure if that's an invite, an offer, a clarification that there's more on the table than he's asking for but Tate's alight with the possibility. He doesn't yet act on it because he's engrossed in what he's started out with but... the idea, it's seeded in his brain and as he looks up at Derek with his lips tight to his cock head, Tate's eyes are wide and thoughtful. He stares, keeping eye contact as his cheeks hollow and a lewd pop follows the next pull of his mouth off his dick.]
This.
[All he says before he's got another mouthful of dick, pushing forward until the bulk of it is against his tongue and in that same sweet moment he applies pressure to his fingertip to press it into Derek through any resulting turns of his hips. He almost bobs too far forward, pulling back when he starts to feel like he's about to retch, but continues - working forward and back with a sloppiness that suits him oddly enough. It's lewd, the noises he makes and the way he pushes himself forward and itches to peel off his shirt and feel the breeze. It's suddenly a lot warmer up here than a moment ago, and unlike Derek he's still cloaked in layers with his cock straining against his jeans.
'Do you... uh.' Fucking bastard, putting the thought in his head.]