There was the very true point that Gilmore's pants did very much only provide an illusion of modesty, tented as they were at the front, his interest very obvious. Oh, he did love his pretty undergarments, but they were rather restrictive at times. Today was not one of those days, thankfully, and he felt a rush of delight at knowing J'mon could see almost as much as if he were completely naked.
He loved the sounds he could draw from them, too. Every gasp and moan ached between his legs. He could feel their physical heat creeping up where their skin touched, as well as where their body surrounded his fingers. Receiving nothing but moans in return for their change of position was just so fucking lovely. Gilmore would never have dared call them compliant, not right now, but they were accepting what he was giving, accommodating him so that he could bestow as much attention on them as possible.
His head moved up and down, dragging his lips languidly up and down, taking his time because it was what they deserved. Slow and attentive. Gilmore didn't need the instruction to stay in place, to keep doing what he was doing, but he could hear the strain in their voice that said he was doing a good job. Inside them his fingers curled on one inward motion, spread gently on another, not wanting them to get too used to any one touch, wanting to keep them on edge. His tongue curled around their length as he drew up, relaxing his throat on the way down to take them all the way in, and his free hand crept back up J'mon's body, reaching for their nipple once more.