TOrd

Tord licked his lips, detecting a hint of chocolate after you had placed your mouth on his own, before complimenting the blindfolded, messy haired boy as you admired him laying across the bed.

Lacing your fingers through the boy's belt loops of his skirt, you urged it down Tord’s legs, careful not to mess up his white, knee high socks. After meticulously leaving delicate, what you hoped would be, hickeys around the his collar bone, you positioned yourself between the boys legs, teasing him with soft kisses on either side of his inner thighs. Tord’s breathing had already grown deeper and quicker from the kisses alone. It got worse once you began to get him worked up with your tongue, running it around his most sensitive area, but not quite touching it directly.

Tord hated the teasing. He craved the touch of graceful fingers on him, but wasn't even able to touch himself, having to endure it with his wrists cuffed.

You could tell Tord was getting anxious by the way he would start grasping at his sweater sleeves, not sure what else to do with his hands restrained to his sides. You supposed you made the boy wait long enough and finally brought your tongue up to his tip, gliding it across before delicately pressing your lips to him. It was moments like this when Tord wished he weren't blindfolded so he could see your lips being gently pressed against him. He had no doubt you must've looked beautiful on the other side of that blindfold.

You reached up to grab one of the his still nervous hands in your own in hopes it would calm him down a bit, before deciding to go all the way down. Or as far as your throat would allow. Tord involuntarily bucked his hips up at the tightening of your lips around him, forcing more into your mouth. You made sure to work him with your hand, spitting in your palm before closing his fist around the base, working it up and down at the same pace as your head.

The addition of the hand was almost too much for Tord to handle. He could feel his blood rush to his head (among other places), his hand tighten around yours still placed in his own, his toes begin to curl, and whatever Norwegian curse words he could choke out. That was one of your favorite things about Tord. You always loved finishing with just your hands so you could watch how the boys feet would fidget in his socks, attempting to pull his legs closer to himself, even though they were still cuffed to the bed, all while spewing out unintelligible mumbling.

You gently ran your fingers along Tord’s leg as he came down from his climax, white streaks of cum streaking his stomach trailing up to the edge of his sweater. You grabbed at the boys hips after cleaning him up with a shirt thrown at the edge of the bed, sliding your hands under his sweater, along his goosebumped skin. Tord giggled softly at your hair tickling at his stomach as you left kisses on his abdomen.

You could tell Tord was spent as his breaths began to slow down. A few seconds later, he felt the restraints around his ankles loosen followed by his wrists being removed from the cuffs and finally his blindfold being untied. You delicately pulled up at the edge of the boy's socks, straightening them up from being in the cuffs; you knew how careful Tord always was with his socks, making sure they were worn precisely to his liking.

"That was fun." you soothed pulling the boy into your arms as you laid down beside him.

Tord only responded by leaning in to connect his lips with your own, finally able to taste the nutella on your breath from your breakfast that morning. He curled himself into you, falling asleep shortly after as you combed through his hair, a feeling of euphoria comfortably washing over him.