[ Mouth capturing Dean's, he draws out a kiss that could be a bit more firm but remains achingly light. He's got things to do with his mouth and opts to save the abuse for the oncoming cock instead.
He's only got the one free hand — he's not dropping that whiskey bottle anywhere but a safe space currently out of reach — but he uses one hand he's got purposefully, reaching between them to palm along the other man's stiff dick. ]
[ Eyebrow cocking at Dean's purposefulness, Blake decides it's as good enough as a go and gives a squeeze. His breath shudders as he explores more deftly, seeking signs of girth, length, heft. ]
Gonna stretch my lips to their limit, huh? Promise you won't hear me complain.
[ Haha, get it? Because his mouth'll be full. Still, it's said tantalizingly against Dean's jaw before Blake descends more purposefully to argue the other man out of his pants far enough for their intent. ]
[ He'll take the direction, descending one knee at a time, but the cock of his eyebrow as he looks up at Dean suggests a blip of something else to be observed: Blake, despite his obvious interest, doesn't seem to appreciate something about the insinuation.
Undeterred, he squeezes his hand around the end of Dean's inch-above-average, thumb swiping over the top and along the frenulum.
He licks his lips, leans in, opens his mouth and stops just short, breath purposefully ghosting along the head. ]
I'll get my bearings and then you can have your little fantasy.
[ Which is what Blake intends to do by leaving a long, wet lick along the underside, hand manipulating as necessary. Best practices says he ought to at least get a few licks in before he's forced to breathe around Dean's dick for who knows how long. ]
S-sorry, [ a little breathless. the look doesn't go unnoticed. ] Into it.
[ Nothing like the anticipation of a really good blow job to get a guy ramped up and saying stupid shit. ]
Whatever you want, man. Just tell me if you wanna stop. Signal. Whatever.
[ He's twitchy, can't help it; a cool breath of air sliding over damn skin, the touch of fingers over soft skin, a wet tongue over his cock. If he weren't a practiced man, that would be the end of it. ]
[ They have a long way to go, but that eagerness ramping up as dicks and sloppy lips come into play can't be ignored. Blake — an orphan, yes, but still an only child — feels his greediness and want surging. His lips curl into a smirk, satisfied as a cat knowing this is the affect he has. ]
Don't go weak in the knees yet; you've got a lotta work ahead of you. My mouth ain't gonna fuck itself.
[ But if needs must, Blake will blow Dean as intended. He smirks before tenderly kissing the tip of Dean's dick, almost sweet in application compared to Blake's filthy spill of words. In awaiting Dean's reaction, he spares a hand for the balls, cupping capriciously as he rolls them gently in a way he knows he likes himself. ]
[ A strangled little laugh bubbles out of him and his hand drops, smoothing over Blake's head, running his fingers through short hair. ]
Trust me, not a teenage boy. I got this.
[ Sure would be embarrassing if he did pop off too early.
He breathes out a little sigh, head tipping back at the hand on his balls, cock twitching. The heat feels good, the touch on what's arguably the most vulnerable part of him sending a spike of want right down his spine, warmth flooding through his body. He can't repress the shiver, or the gentle tightening of his fingers in Blake's hair. ]
[ Who that suggestion's for will remain less-than-obvious, but feeling so fucking pleased at Dean's wanton grip, he barely reserves a sharklike smile before diving in. He swallows in anticipation, head dipping while he takes the other man's cock into his mouth. Blake's teasing to start, tonguing the head, but finds his desperation is probably rivaling Dean's when it comes to the interest in pressing forward to the good stuff.
Resettling his knees, he's slops spit all over that cock and then slowly introduces the promise of his open throat one deepening stroke at a time until he's practically gagging. ]
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[ Like, really into it. How could he not be? Most sane, semi-straight men would be. Probably, anyway.
His nails drag over skin, light but still firm, hips pressed close, hard in briefs - no missing that. ]
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[ Mouth capturing Dean's, he draws out a kiss that could be a bit more firm but remains achingly light. He's got things to do with his mouth and opts to save the abuse for the oncoming cock instead.
He's only got the one free hand — he's not dropping that whiskey bottle anywhere but a safe space currently out of reach — but he uses one hand he's got purposefully, reaching between them to palm along the other man's stiff dick. ]
Okay, might be a bit impatient...
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[ He keeps chasing them, the kisses too light, but when Blake palms his dick he loses all of his sense, a little groan, pressing into his hand. ]
Y-you think? [ He's getting impatient too, and he's going to grab that bottle and take a swig before he sets it down and pushes it out of reach. ]
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Gonna stretch my lips to their limit, huh? Promise you won't hear me complain.
[ Haha, get it? Because his mouth'll be full. Still, it's said tantalizingly against Dean's jaw before Blake descends more purposefully to argue the other man out of his pants far enough for their intent. ]
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Damn right I will. Get on your knees where you belong.
[ He rocks into Blake's grip, hard and waiting, his hands tight as he rests them now on Blake's shoulders, firmly guiding him down. ]
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Undeterred, he squeezes his hand around the end of Dean's inch-above-average, thumb swiping over the top and along the frenulum.
He licks his lips, leans in, opens his mouth and stops just short, breath purposefully ghosting along the head. ]
I'll get my bearings and then you can have your little fantasy.
[ Which is what Blake intends to do by leaving a long, wet lick along the underside, hand manipulating as necessary. Best practices says he ought to at least get a few licks in before he's forced to breathe around Dean's dick for who knows how long. ]
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[ Nothing like the anticipation of a really good blow job to get a guy ramped up and saying stupid shit. ]
Whatever you want, man. Just tell me if you wanna stop. Signal. Whatever.
[ He's twitchy, can't help it; a cool breath of air sliding over damn skin, the touch of fingers over soft skin, a wet tongue over his cock. If he weren't a practiced man, that would be the end of it. ]
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Don't go weak in the knees yet; you've got a lotta work ahead of you. My mouth ain't gonna fuck itself.
[ But if needs must, Blake will blow Dean as intended. He smirks before tenderly kissing the tip of Dean's dick, almost sweet in application compared to Blake's filthy spill of words. In awaiting Dean's reaction, he spares a hand for the balls, cupping capriciously as he rolls them gently in a way he knows he likes himself. ]
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Trust me, not a teenage boy. I got this.
[ Sure would be embarrassing if he did pop off too early.
He breathes out a little sigh, head tipping back at the hand on his balls, cock twitching. The heat feels good, the touch on what's arguably the most vulnerable part of him sending a spike of want right down his spine, warmth flooding through his body. He can't repress the shiver, or the gentle tightening of his fingers in Blake's hair. ]
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[ Who that suggestion's for will remain less-than-obvious, but feeling so fucking pleased at Dean's wanton grip, he barely reserves a sharklike smile before diving in. He swallows in anticipation, head dipping while he takes the other man's cock into his mouth. Blake's teasing to start, tonguing the head, but finds his desperation is probably rivaling Dean's when it comes to the interest in pressing forward to the good stuff.
Resettling his knees, he's slops spit all over that cock and then slowly introduces the promise of his open throat one deepening stroke at a time until he's practically gagging. ]