When Mustang takes himself in hand that way, so desperately that he's clearly thinking of nothing but his own pleasure, Vrenille has to laugh--a brief, breathy, sardonic exhale.
He drives deep and almost lets himself still through the first couple spurts, not for Mustang's benefit but for his own, savouring the tight constriction of muscles around his cock when the man's balls begin to empty. But then, almost at once, he's moving again--a sharp, rough pounding that's not exactly aimed to satisfy.
"Oh you are cheeky," he scolds. "Maybe now I see the real reason you were given to me in shackles. Not a whole lotta self control." His hips snap mercilessly into Mustang's ass as he speaks, the slap of their skin sounding almost like a spanking, and at just that pace.
"Seems like next time you're gonna need to have your hands bound so you obey. Maybe lock your cock up nice 'n tight so you can't cum at all." Seizing the moment of post-orgasm languor, he reaches around to grab Mustang's arms, pulling his wrists to fold his arms behind his back, pushing his chest and cheek to the mirror once more and holding him pinned so that he can't pull his hands away while he fucks him.
If his words add embarrassment or shame to the posture, that's all the better--Mustang has, in effect, asked for this humiliation by taking himself in hand when Vrenille told him not to, and now he's going to reap the consequences of it.
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He drives deep and almost lets himself still through the first couple spurts, not for Mustang's benefit but for his own, savouring the tight constriction of muscles around his cock when the man's balls begin to empty. But then, almost at once, he's moving again--a sharp, rough pounding that's not exactly aimed to satisfy.
"Oh you are cheeky," he scolds. "Maybe now I see the real reason you were given to me in shackles. Not a whole lotta self control." His hips snap mercilessly into Mustang's ass as he speaks, the slap of their skin sounding almost like a spanking, and at just that pace.
"Seems like next time you're gonna need to have your hands bound so you obey. Maybe lock your cock up nice 'n tight so you can't cum at all." Seizing the moment of post-orgasm languor, he reaches around to grab Mustang's arms, pulling his wrists to fold his arms behind his back, pushing his chest and cheek to the mirror once more and holding him pinned so that he can't pull his hands away while he fucks him.
If his words add embarrassment or shame to the posture, that's all the better--Mustang has, in effect, asked for this humiliation by taking himself in hand when Vrenille told him not to, and now he's going to reap the consequences of it.