Biting his lip, a whine coming from him as his hand squeezed with the man's words, Jack nodded (how helpful when on the phone, Jack, he noted) and swallowed hard, "Damn it, Greg, I'd want you to lick me clean. You know how I love that tongue, and to feel you licking off your own seed-" He had to pause, his head tilting back for a moan as his hand sped up, hips twitching up eagerly, "I'd want to feel that hot come of yours on my cheeks, down my neck...Looking up at you, licking my lips to get that last taste of you, my hands stroking up your hips as I stood, lips red and begging, pleading for you to clean me off." Damn, he was starting to get himself riled up, his breathing picking up, eyes closing as he arched his hips into his hand.