It just takes two fingers (m)

Andrew was losing his mind. He felt so good, his body wound up tight. With Maxwell's hands on his chest, his weight pressed against him as he bounced on Andrew's cock like it was his favourite thing to do. 

Andrew knew he had to have sweat on every part of his body, his own pheromones thick in the room as Maxwell's were a sweet seduction, wrapping around his throat and causing him extreme pleasure. The man was a drug. 

Maxwell knew it too. His eyes were lidded, his head thrown back in pure bliss, his fingers clawed against Andrew's bare chest, and his thighs moving, flexing powerfully. Andrew had a firm grip on his hips, but he knew better than to take control. Maxwell was in his element, and it didn't matter that they had been at this for over two hours, he wasn't tired.