[ Matt has had his fair share of hand jobs in his life, but none of them before have been delivered by someone who owns their own dick. Never by someone who knows how it feels, and exactly how to touch to get the right reaction. And fuck if Nate doesn't have him in pieces in seconds.
His hairs stand on end, and he shifts, leaning back into the sofa a little, his knees parting wider. He looks down to see the hand lost beneath the waistband, and in a hurried move he pushes himself up on a hand so he can push the waistband down over his hips and the bottoms off enough so that he can see what he's doing.
It's like torture. Like really fucking nice torture. One hand reaches out and grasps at the arm of the sofa, his fingers pressing into the fabric. ]
Jesus fuck. God Nate you trying to fucking kill me?
[ Because he wants more, oh he wants more. But at the same time he's not about to tell him to stop doing exactly that because, well, wow. ]
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His hairs stand on end, and he shifts, leaning back into the sofa a little, his knees parting wider. He looks down to see the hand lost beneath the waistband, and in a hurried move he pushes himself up on a hand so he can push the waistband down over his hips and the bottoms off enough so that he can see what he's doing.
It's like torture. Like really fucking nice torture. One hand reaches out and grasps at the arm of the sofa, his fingers pressing into the fabric. ]
Jesus fuck. God Nate you trying to fucking kill me?
[ Because he wants more, oh he wants more. But at the same time he's not about to tell him to stop doing exactly that because, well, wow. ]