“I haven’t,” Mustang answers honestly. The scene reminds him of something out of a young man’s fantasy. Not his, but surely someone’s. Definitely Vrenille’s. “My world is very different from this one. Sex in public isn’t done. Ever.”
Roy probably should take issue at the words “being used.” Instead, they excite him. Strange how much he’s learned about himself during this single encounter. He feels Vrenille adjust his shirt behind him. What is he doing? The man’s hair tickles his back and he concludes that he’s looking down to where they’re joined and wonders distantly whether that, too, can be seen by the viewing public.
Yes! Vrenille finally lets go, thrusts stronger, rougher, closer to the way Mustang likes it. As incredible as it feels, it presents a problem: the better it is, the sooner he’ll inevitably cum. Despite cumming being the natural conclusion of fucking, he just wants...
What? What is his problem? This has little to do with winning or losing. Competition has no place in anything so intimate, so what is he trying to prove to himself? That he hasn’t gone a considerable amount of time without sex, that he’s been too busy? No, if he is honest with himself, it has everything to do with his ego -- his masculine pride.
And it might even be because he likes having to submit, as much as the idea embarrasses him. Mustang inhales an enormous breath. Alright. He can live with that.
Even knowing how ludicrous the feeling is, it seems near-impossible to overcome. Roy knows himself capable of change, of growing, but a change that significant hardly happens overnight.
He glances at the clerk to keep himself level, pausing to watch him watching Vrenille and himself. Maybe it's cheating, but he wants to experience everything the man can give and has the feeling he's still holding back. Bracing himself more fully against the mirror by flattening his hands, Mustang rocks back with each thrust, meeting Vrenille halfway. He likes the sound of their flesh slapping together, the punishing reaming his movements induce. Mustang admits he likes that he has no real say in this other than consenting.
“I take it you enjoy public sex and being watched. You know that makes you an exhibitionist.” Mustang doesn’t say it to judge the man; he just wonders how self-aware he is.
no subject
Roy probably should take issue at the words “being used.” Instead, they excite him. Strange how much he’s learned about himself during this single encounter. He feels Vrenille adjust his shirt behind him. What is he doing? The man’s hair tickles his back and he concludes that he’s looking down to where they’re joined and wonders distantly whether that, too, can be seen by the viewing public.
Yes! Vrenille finally lets go, thrusts stronger, rougher, closer to the way Mustang likes it. As incredible as it feels, it presents a problem: the better it is, the sooner he’ll inevitably cum. Despite cumming being the natural conclusion of fucking, he just wants...
What? What is his problem? This has little to do with winning or losing. Competition has no place in anything so intimate, so what is he trying to prove to himself? That he hasn’t gone a considerable amount of time without sex, that he’s been too busy? No, if he is honest with himself, it has everything to do with his ego -- his masculine pride.
And it might even be because he likes having to submit, as much as the idea embarrasses him. Mustang inhales an enormous breath. Alright. He can live with that.
Even knowing how ludicrous the feeling is, it seems near-impossible to overcome. Roy knows himself capable of change, of growing, but a change that significant hardly happens overnight.
He glances at the clerk to keep himself level, pausing to watch him watching Vrenille and himself. Maybe it's cheating, but he wants to experience everything the man can give and has the feeling he's still holding back. Bracing himself more fully against the mirror by flattening his hands, Mustang rocks back with each thrust, meeting Vrenille halfway. He likes the sound of their flesh slapping together, the punishing reaming his movements induce. Mustang admits he likes that he has no real say in this other than consenting.
“I take it you enjoy public sex and being watched. You know that makes you an exhibitionist.” Mustang doesn’t say it to judge the man; he just wonders how self-aware he is.