Re: Exterior: a rest stop, desert [sexual content]
What a relief that human contact would be fleeting, what glory that those around him had better men on which to bestow their loyalties and kisses, and what ongoing comfort is what that he could be known only by his appetites, twisting and turning like bloodless entrails in the wind. Oh, yes, he was more at ease in this idea that the boy's mouth and wet willingness wasn't for him at all.
Why was he thinking about it? He wasn't.
His hands kept up the stroking, doing his mindless best to drive sound up from the boy's chest and into his throat. There were direct benefits, and as his hands slid up the boy's throat as his hips drove downward, and little quivers of the erection growing fiercer came with it. The old god's voice grew hoarser, syllables more slurred, and the rhythm grew both more rapid and stuttered. He stopped working quite so hard and let the boy work his wet magic. He never quite complimented, just repeated himself, asked for a tightening of mouth and more. Whenever he asked for better, he moved his hands, and drew a little trail of his fingers over the hollowing of the boy's cheeks, urging more of the same. He called him that, boy as if he had less skill than he did, and just the right amount of youth.
Abruptly he quivered and stopped his movement, shining forehead bowing low over the crowd of the boy's mess of hair. He took his hands away and then brought them back, rapidly, both of them sliding down in the back of the boy's head and taking a substantial handful of hair. He pulled the boy back, roughly, away from his body. "Coming. Off."