[ Honestly, what a different person this side of Ronan is. Compliant, willing, eager, innocent. He's so fucking innocent. Like he doesn't know if he should be enjoying it, but enjoying so much that he doesn't know what to do with himself. He's a panting, excited, gasping, virginal mess underneath Jesse. Such a fragile little thing.
Jesse is determined to follow his own advice: just go with what feels good. Don't overthink it. Don't think at all. Just let it happen. And so, with Ronan's mouth meeting his, Jesse lets it happen. This - kissing - at least seems to be something Ronan knows how to do. Seems the Catholic boy might have been secretly halfway sinning and making out with boys behind the gym shed to learn how to kiss better than he can jerk off.
Excited by the effect and the power he's got over Ronan, Jesse gives Ronan what he wants: a deep, searching, heated kiss, tongue exploring Ronan's tongue and lips. It's so fucking weird kissing a guy, with Ronan's rough mouth and his rough stubble, but that all adds to the perversity of it all. His hand slows its strokes on Ronan's cock; slower, longer strokes. Eager for some relief on his own cock, Jesse shifts onto Ronan more, almost completely on top of him now, and his cock slides and slithers up alongside Ronan's. He fumbles them together with his hand and starts thrusting, and though he wants to jerk off, he wants to thrust, too.
So, his guiding hand ends up slapping on the ground for leverage as he starts thrusting in greedy, long rolls of his hips, their cocks nudging and rubbing and frotting and sliding together in a tangle of hot, dry hardness. If anyone saw them, all they'd see is Jesse's skinny bare ass thrusting and his jeans caught around his knees, shirt rucked up around his back, rutting like he's fucking Ronan. Probably would look like a quick, dirty fuck in the darkness. ]
Feels so fucking good. [ A breathless, purring agreement murmured against Ronan's panting mouth. It shouldn't feel thIs fucking good but it does. A filthy admission that might haunt his thoughts later. Unable to help himself, Jesse taunts as he ruts against Ronan faster, more greedily, harder, close to tipping over the edge: ] You gonna come? [ Another hungry, biting kiss to that gasping mouth beneath his, interrupted with a tugging bite of Ronan's lower lip and a further coaxing, whispering taunt: ] Say you wanna come, Ronan. Say you need it.
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Jesse is determined to follow his own advice: just go with what feels good. Don't overthink it. Don't think at all. Just let it happen. And so, with Ronan's mouth meeting his, Jesse lets it happen. This - kissing - at least seems to be something Ronan knows how to do. Seems the Catholic boy might have been secretly halfway sinning and making out with boys behind the gym shed to learn how to kiss better than he can jerk off.
Excited by the effect and the power he's got over Ronan, Jesse gives Ronan what he wants: a deep, searching, heated kiss, tongue exploring Ronan's tongue and lips. It's so fucking weird kissing a guy, with Ronan's rough mouth and his rough stubble, but that all adds to the perversity of it all. His hand slows its strokes on Ronan's cock; slower, longer strokes. Eager for some relief on his own cock, Jesse shifts onto Ronan more, almost completely on top of him now, and his cock slides and slithers up alongside Ronan's. He fumbles them together with his hand and starts thrusting, and though he wants to jerk off, he wants to thrust, too.
So, his guiding hand ends up slapping on the ground for leverage as he starts thrusting in greedy, long rolls of his hips, their cocks nudging and rubbing and frotting and sliding together in a tangle of hot, dry hardness. If anyone saw them, all they'd see is Jesse's skinny bare ass thrusting and his jeans caught around his knees, shirt rucked up around his back, rutting like he's fucking Ronan. Probably would look like a quick, dirty fuck in the darkness. ]
Feels so fucking good. [ A breathless, purring agreement murmured against Ronan's panting mouth. It shouldn't feel thIs fucking good but it does. A filthy admission that might haunt his thoughts later. Unable to help himself, Jesse taunts as he ruts against Ronan faster, more greedily, harder, close to tipping over the edge: ] You gonna come? [ Another hungry, biting kiss to that gasping mouth beneath his, interrupted with a tugging bite of Ronan's lower lip and a further coaxing, whispering taunt: ] Say you wanna come, Ronan. Say you need it.