[his attempts to keep quiet don't last very long. he almost forgets entirely, lost in how good the other feels in his hand. he's light and happy and getting tight himself, crooning tiny little wisps and sighs the longer he touches.
he's so happy. this is a dream, that Irahl would even let him...
he almost thinks he can go on doing this forever, entertaining the notion, imagining the dragon writhing and wanting from just a touch--watching his composure splinter away until they're both hot and desperate for each other. or something like that.
but he gets too excited, maybe. he's diligent for a few minutes, but then his motions are somewhat disrupted by him sitting up. he tries to be smooth about it, transition flawlessly... but there's nothing terribly subtle about how he leans down, moves his hand, and mouths shamelessly at the fabric he'd only been touching before.
with tongue. and hot breath. and definite intent.]
no subject
he's so happy. this is a dream, that Irahl would even let him...
he almost thinks he can go on doing this forever, entertaining the notion, imagining the dragon writhing and wanting from just a touch--watching his composure splinter away until they're both hot and desperate for each other. or something like that.
but he gets too excited, maybe. he's diligent for a few minutes, but then his motions are somewhat disrupted by him sitting up. he tries to be smooth about it, transition flawlessly... but there's nothing terribly subtle about how he leans down, moves his hand, and mouths shamelessly at the fabric he'd only been touching before.
with tongue. and hot breath. and definite intent.]