Oh, God. Maybe Eames had never done this before, but Swoff would never have known. Honestly, he wasn't sure that he was capable of logical thought anymore. Everything was hot and wet, and Eames hands and his tongue and oh God the moaning-
"OhFuck- Eames- ohmyGod-" he moaned, wanting to tell him how it felt, wanting to tell him that he really didn't need to practise, but he wasn't able to articulate anything beyond stock phrases and swearing.
The water from the shower was definitely adding something to the experience, massaging at his shoulders, dripping down his stomach and wetting Eame's hair. His hand lifted from his shoulder for a moment to push damp hair from his forehead, fingers tangling into his wet locks at the nape of his neck. He couldn't stop himself from moaning with every bob of Eames' head- he could hardly believe that this was actually happening.
"Fuckfuck- I- ohGod-please-" he moaned, the words making more sense in his head than aloud, over the sound of the pouring water. He didn't think that he would be able to stand it for long, even so soon after his first orgasm. It was a sensory overload.