Wm strap

It's /big/, and Mollymauk so obviously loves that; he can't stop running his fingers up and down the silicone, jerking himself off, rapt by the ridges and the texture of his pretty new dick. Caleb is still yet to touch it, but the sight alone is enough to make heat curl in his belly, wetness cling between his legs. He looks good, he looks /good/, and Caleb wishes he had the words in him to say it, but the eloquence Mollymauk deserves so rarely comes to him when they're like this.

It is a good thing Mollymauk can talk for the both of them, he supposes.

"This feels… really right." A pause, another languid stroke to his big, pretty cock. He's a touch quieter than normal, now that he's fixed the harness in place, a bit more reverent. "Shall we get started, then?"

Caleb nods, feels it as he flushes all the way down his chest at the hungry way Mollymauk looks him over. He lets his legs spread, brings a hand between them to test himself. It's /big/, and Caleb is starting to think maybe he /likes/ big, the promise of an ache between transitioning from two of his own knobbly fingers to Mollymauk's girth. Mollymauk kneels on the bed and bats his hand away, but seems to change his mind halfway through the motion and brings the dirtied fingers up to his lips, sucks them into his mouth in one fluid motion that makes Caleb choke on air. His tongue, the friction, the bob of his head, it sends electricity down his belly and into his clit, his /cock/, and he thinks maybe he gets it now, the appeal of something big and imposing between his legs for a lover to take. He feels himself twitch without being directly touched, and pulls his fingers from Mollymauk's mouth, curls his palm around his jaw.

"Fuck me now. Please." He's never held the tone of his voice in high regard, but it must do something for Mollymauk; he inhales deep, holds it, and lets go all at once as he repositions himself between Caleb's thighs proper.

After a moment, the tip of his cock - cooler than skin but just as good - presses against Caleb's entrance, and he can't help but whine for it, a miserable, desperate sound accompanied by a roll of his hips. He wants it more than he thinks he's ever wanted any person, but instead of scaring him, the thought sets him alight; he wants Mollymauk's cock to mold him, shape the way he gets his pleasure until he's near ruined for anyone else. Even thinking it makes his face burn hot, so he doesn't try to articulate it, but maybe Mollymauk feels it in the eager way he lets him in, the desperate tangle of his legs around Mollymauk's back to hold him in place. Mollymauk holds him in turn, supports Caleb's hips with a wiry, strong arm, and rushes to meet him.