Mason pulled Anton’s sac into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around Anton’s balls, and sucking on them gently. Anton smoothed his fingers over Mason’s brow and through his hair, encouraging him with light touches to continue. Mason closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply, noting the texture of his skin and the soft, musky smell of his body. He wanted to do this right, to give Anton as much pleasure as he could, but he hadn’t expected how much raw pleasure he would receive from the simple contact.
With each swipe of his tongue, Anton breathed a little heavier. By the time Mason pulled back, licking along the throbbing shaft, Anton had tightened his hold, guiding him more determinedly to the dripping tip. Mason wasn’t going to argue. He poised it ready at his mouth, looking up for one last assurance.
“Is this what you want?” Anton asked softly.
“Yes. God, yes, Anton.” He touched his tongue to the gleaming slit, teasing Anton with the contact. “Is this what you want?”