Isaac caught his lower lip between his teeth, heightening it's plumped, wet appearance. He had been told over and over how delicious he looked, when he was debauched, whether it was from spit slicked lips, or from wearing a load of a stranger's come across his face. Everyone seemed to love it when he looked the most like spoiled innocence.
It seemed as though Isaac was out of his clothes before either of them could take a breath, and he braced his knees on either side of Stiles' hips.
"I can take it," he said, in a breathy promise. "And I'm already wet."
He pressed the head of Stiles' cock against his eager hole, and slowly began to lower himself down.