[Isaac doesn't spread him open, but Hector parts his legs wider willingly, bearing himself for Isaac's attentions.
A finger is what he expects, what he is dizzily anticipating, but Isaac is loath to be predictable. He comes at him with wine and with his tongue, and Hector screws his eyes shut and buries his face into the bunched-up blankets to muffle his groaning.
Fuck. Fuck. It is even more breathtaking than when Abel did it, because this is Isaac, in a rare mood to reward and to coax pleasure rather than to inflict pain. Hector drinks it in greedily, like a man come across a desert oasis.
He has had barely more than a mouthful of wine, though he feels as drunk as Isaac from pleasure alone. His cock dribbles in the circle of Isaac's fingers, red and straining already. Hector won't last long. He rolls his hips to get more friction out of that unhurried fist.]
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A finger is what he expects, what he is dizzily anticipating, but Isaac is loath to be predictable. He comes at him with wine and with his tongue, and Hector screws his eyes shut and buries his face into the bunched-up blankets to muffle his groaning.
Fuck. Fuck. It is even more breathtaking than when Abel did it, because this is Isaac, in a rare mood to reward and to coax pleasure rather than to inflict pain. Hector drinks it in greedily, like a man come across a desert oasis.
He has had barely more than a mouthful of wine, though he feels as drunk as Isaac from pleasure alone. His cock dribbles in the circle of Isaac's fingers, red and straining already. Hector won't last long. He rolls his hips to get more friction out of that unhurried fist.]