Izz’s mouth was just above Dante’s navel and he drew small circles around Dante’s belly button with the tip of his tongue. He hooked his fingers in the stretchy waist of Dante’s sweatpants and tugged them down.
Dante lifted his hips to assist in the removal of his pants.
“No boxers?” Izz asked, his warm breath moving over the bulbous purple tip of Dante’s prick.
“Nope,” said Dante, his voice husky with lust.
“My God, if your dick had a foot it’d be a goddamned toddler’s leg. Fucking tripod.”
Dante laughed and then groaned loudly as Izz’s mouth descended on part of his length. Izz grasped the base of Dante’s shaft with both hands as he moved his mouth up and down.
Izz’s lips made a smacking sound as he pulled back and breathed deeply in. “Pretty sure I can’t fit your whole cock in my mouth without gagging,” he panted.
“What about your ass?” Dante breathed heavily. A drop of sweat fell from the hair at the nape of his neck and rolled, cool, between his shoulder blades.