[ Poe stops. He eases his hand away from John's balls, his mouth away from John's cock, giving the head a light suck before he lets go entirely. Then he stands up. He can feel spit slicking the corner of his mouth and reaches up to wipe it away. He's still strangely nervous, not sure he wants to be seen, not in the way he feels like John can do it.
He's breathing harder than his own exertion warrants.
He doesn't know what to do. What to say. So he stands there, hands fussing awkwardly with the hems of his jeans, then shifting to the pockets of his jacket, then back down to his sides again. ]
What should.... [ He reaches out to brush his fingertips along the side of John's cock, feeling like he should be working still. ] What else?
no subject
He's breathing harder than his own exertion warrants.
He doesn't know what to do. What to say. So he stands there, hands fussing awkwardly with the hems of his jeans, then shifting to the pockets of his jacket, then back down to his sides again. ]
What should.... [ He reaches out to brush his fingertips along the side of John's cock, feeling like he should be working still. ] What else?