[Astarion's only answer is a soft groan of affirmation as he lowers himself down on Gale's length. His head tilts just slightly as he does, into the pressure of Gale's palm. Even as Gale's eyes close he keeps his gaze on the wizard, memorizing the look of him, the flush of his cheeks, the way his teeth indent against his lips, the rise and fall of his chest.
Astarion breathes in the scent of him as his nose buries in the coarse hair at the base of Gale's cock. With the thrum of his blood pumping through veins only inches away, the aroma of him is thick and heady but so unmistakably Gale. It makes Astarion's mouth water around his length, makes him hungry for more.
He gives a low, indulgent moan around the other man before slowly drawing his head up, lips tight on Gale's length. It's Gale who makes this worthwhile once more, who makes Astarion crave more.]
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Astarion breathes in the scent of him as his nose buries in the coarse hair at the base of Gale's cock. With the thrum of his blood pumping through veins only inches away, the aroma of him is thick and heady but so unmistakably Gale. It makes Astarion's mouth water around his length, makes him hungry for more.
He gives a low, indulgent moan around the other man before slowly drawing his head up, lips tight on Gale's length. It's Gale who makes this worthwhile once more, who makes Astarion crave more.]