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Panels of Stained Glass

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It’s something Ben does every so often. Settle on his knees in front of George with hands on resting on George’s thighs, an unspoken question burning in his eyes.

And George can never say no.

And every time it leads him here. His hand buried in his boy’s soft hair while he bobs on George’s cock. He has one hand pressing on his own arousal through his jeans, the other wrapped around the base of George’s cock turning. and squeezing just so. Eyes closed, an expression of pure bliss, letting out little mewls around his cock. He pulls Ben back, relishing in the moan it draws out.

“Look at me.”

Those blue eyes flutter open and Ben’s gaze locks with his.

Ben doesn’t pause, takes advantage of the position to open his mouth and let George watch as he swirls his tongue around the tip before swallowing him back down to the root with another pleased mewl.