Charlie hummed again, one hand stroking wide arcs on Deacon's stomach, the other cupping and massaging gently. That, plus a little iventive application of tongue-studdy goodness should get Deacon close fast - and then Charlie would stop.
That was a fun game. They could play that several times, until that little change in Deacon's breathing and the deepening of his growl that meant he was beginning to want some action.