1. Deep-Throating | Inflation | Face-Sitting | Masks
In the back of Neil's mind, ever since he and Andrew had started their absolutely-totally-nothing-at-all-really, he'd started accumulating fantasies. Before, during all the years he spent on the run, he'd come to see himself as sexless, tamping down on every urge as best as he could, shoving down any temptation to daydream or fantasize.
Now, though, his brain was making up for lost time.
It seemed Neil had caught Andrew in a good place today; the other man was unusually pliable and willing, settling with his back against the wall of their dorm, letting Neil fall to his knees and hearing him out as Neil told him one of the many items on the list of things that he wanted to try.
"Josten," Andrew said, and Neil felt a twinge of pride at the realization that Andrew's voice was just a little shakier than normal, whether or not the other man would ever admit it.
Neil hummed, partly to acknowledge that he was listening, but mostly for the way Andrew groaned at the feeling of Neil's vocal chords vibrating around his cock. Andrew was quick to regain his composure, though, and he tightened his grip on Neil's shoulders before saying, "You know you don't have to even try to do this."
"I know," Neil said, taking the opportunity to pull away from Andrew and take a deep breath. "I know I don't have to do anything. I want to. If you're okay with it."
"Well," Andrew said, his head falling back to rest against the wall with a light thud. "By all means, continue."
Neil had heard somewhere--okay, he hadn't heard, he'd read, because he'd done some research, trying to offset his utter cluelessness about sex--that you could stop your gag reflex by making a fist with your thumb on the inside. It turned out to be semi-successful, allowing Neil to slide his lips just a little further down Andrew's shaft, relishing in the low, soft sounds emitting from Andrew's throat. Neil breathed through his nose as best as he could, letting Andrew fill up his throat and swallowing around him, pulling a string of choked-off curses from him. He felt one of Andrew's hands leave his shoulder and glanced up to see Andrew with his eyes closed, biting his knuckles. Spurred on by the sight, Neil clenched his fists tighter and pushed himself to take the last inch or so of Andrew's cock, rewarded with the sound of Andrew's breath leaving his lungs in one heavy rush. He gazed up again and found that Andrew, with his teeth still sunk into his own knuckles, was looking down at him, pupils blown so wide there was only a hint of hazel iris visible.
And then Neil started moving again, cheeks hollowed and lips sliding up and down the full length of Andrew's cock, fists still wound tight to keep himself from gagging as the head of Andrew's cock brushed the back of his throat over and over. Once in a while, he'd pull off almost completely, tracing his tongue around the head, teasing the slit, letting the sound of Andrew's deep breaths and drawn-out swears fill his head. "Josten," Andrew snapped, as Neil enveloped Andrew's cock in the warm heat of his throat again, tears starting to well up in the corners of his eyes. "I'm--shit--I'm close."
Neil hummed again, and Andrew cursed, and a few moments later, Andrew was coming down Neil's throat, his cock spasming against the flat of Neil's tongue as Neil swallowed what he could, letting the rest drip from the corners of his mouth and wiping it away on the back of his hand as Andrew zipped his jeans back up and slid down the wall, coming to sit on the floor across from Neil, who grinned back at him and asked, "So...how was--"
"No," Andrew said, holding a finger to Neil's lips. "Not a fucking word, Josten."