A hand coaxes his legs to part a little more, and Michael drops to his knees behind him. Suddenly he loses the feeling that the other man might not know what he’s doing either but the idea that Michael’s slept with other men is too much to think about. He gasps as a warm hand slides across the bare skin of his ass. Michael reaches for his carefully discarded suit jacket and retrieves a tube of lubricant from the pocket. James doesn’t ask, because it’s more than he wants to know. He’s busy trying not to consider the implications of what they’re doing, and when Michael slides a slick finger between his ass cheeks it makes him jump slightly. He braces himself on the wall with both hands, digging his nails into palms.
Michael tucks the tube into his own boxers and runs his hands gently up and down James’ sides before parting his cheeks gently and sliding his tongue between. James lets out a groan, almost jerking away from the bizarre sensation. He’s sure his nails are leaving cuts in his hands.
He feels the long, slow strokes of Michael’s tongue between his cheeks and writhes slightly, unsure what to make of the act. James bites back the moans, afraid of how real the sound of his genuine pleasure will make this. He’s grateful when he stops, but he mourns the sensation almost immediately.
“Ah, god,” he gasps as Michael’s tongue is replaced with two slick fingers, which slip easily but painfully inside him. James cries out slightly, resting his forehead against the wall and clenching his teeth in an attempt to keep from asking Michael to stop. Michael’s fingers slide in and out of him gently, working away the pain until the sensation becomes pleasurable, more so than James had expected - he bites his lip, blinking away the tears in his eyes as the pain subsides completely. He hopes it didn’t hurt like this every time, and wonders why the idea of doing this more than once came to mind.
A hand coaxes his legs to part a little more, and Michael drops to his knees behind him. Suddenly he loses the feeling that the other man might not know what he’s doing either but the idea that Michael’s slept with other men is too much to think about. He gasps as a warm hand slides across the bare skin of his ass. Michael reaches for his carefully discarded suit jacket and retrieves a tube of lubricant from the pocket. James doesn’t ask, because it’s more than he wants to know. He’s busy trying not to consider the implications of what they’re doing, and when Michael slides a slick finger between his ass cheeks it makes him jump slightly. He braces himself on the wall with both hands, digging his nails into palms.
Michael tucks the tube into his own boxers and runs his hands gently up and down James’ sides before parting his cheeks gently and sliding his tongue between. James lets out a groan, almost jerking away from the bizarre sensation. He’s sure his nails are leaving cuts in his hands.
He feels the long, slow strokes of Michael’s tongue between his cheeks and writhes slightly, unsure what to make of the act. James bites back the moans, afraid of how real the sound of his genuine pleasure will make this. He’s grateful when he stops, but he mourns the sensation almost immediately.
“Ah, god,” he gasps as Michael’s tongue is replaced with two slick fingers, which slip easily but painfully inside him. James cries out slightly, resting his forehead against the wall and clenching his teeth in an attempt to keep from asking Michael to stop. Michael’s fingers slide in and out of him gently, working away the pain until the sensation becomes pleasurable, more so than James had expected - he bites his lip, blinking away the tears in his eyes as the pain subsides completely. He hopes it didn’t hurt like this every time, and wonders why the idea of doing this more than once came to mind.
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