Dean is really good at this. It's probably the lips. They're tight and hot and moving up and down at just the right speed and Dean's doing this thing with his tongue where it presses up on the underside of the head on every dip and the suction is fucking incredible. Misha's got his hands on the back of Dean's head and it's all he can do not to really grab hold and thrust up into that slick heat.
He clenches his hands into fists, lets out a little breathless moan of encouragement and Dean moves up until he's got his lips wrapped just around the head, sucks like he's desperate for it until Misha's toes start to curl. And then Dean's moving his tongue, over the sensitive ridges, then little licks until he's lapping at the slit and it's so fucking awesome, white hot shocks of intense bright sensation and Dean's hands are firm on his hips… but then Misha remembers what he promised.
It almost fucking kills him to push Dean away, let his cock slip out of those spit-slick lips with one last jolt of heat. But he's got something even better in mind.
"Where'd your rose go?" he asks, when Dean looks up curiously from between his legs.
"Seriously?" Dean sits up, kneels on the bed while he retrieves his rose from where he'd put it on the bedside table. He's naked too, and Misha slips his hands behind his head and enjoys the view. A little pudgier than he'd expected. But that's okay. Gives him something to hang on to.
"Seriously," Misha says. And when he sees the rose stem, long and slender and delicate in Dean's rough hands, his dick twitches in anticipation. "Lots of lube."
Dean shakes his head incredulously as he coats the stem with KY. "I mean, I've tried plenty of stuff," he says, and then settles back down between Misha's legs. "But I don't think this is gonna do much for you."
He strokes a finger down the soft skin between Misha's balls, touches the rim of his asshole.
And even though it feels good, Misha laughs. "Not there."
Dean looks confused. For about two seconds, until Misha nods pointedly at the rose. At how long and slender the stem is.
It's blunt and thick when Dean pushes it against the head of Misha's cock. Everything's sticky with lube, and the only sound is their breathing, ragged and panting.
Then a long groan, "Mm," when the plastic stem slips into the Misha's slit, harder than Dean's tongue and it's so fucking intense, thick and weird and awesome.
Misha doesn't look away as the long, green stem begins to disappear down the length of his dick - the slide of it is all pressure, fuck, filling his up so he feels stuffed and impossibly hard and like he's going to come just from this. He can hear the hitch in Dean's breathing.
"That's good?" He sounds surprised.
"Fuck." It's better than good. "Fucking…fuck." He feels swollen, shuddering with little shocks of pressure, like he's going to explode and all that's stopping him is that hard length of plastic.
Part 2
Dean is really good at this. It's probably the lips. They're tight and hot and moving up and down at just the right speed and Dean's doing this thing with his tongue where it presses up on the underside of the head on every dip and the suction is fucking incredible. Misha's got his hands on the back of Dean's head and it's all he can do not to really grab hold and thrust up into that slick heat.
He clenches his hands into fists, lets out a little breathless moan of encouragement and Dean moves up until he's got his lips wrapped just around the head, sucks like he's desperate for it until Misha's toes start to curl. And then Dean's moving his tongue, over the sensitive ridges, then little licks until he's lapping at the slit and it's so fucking awesome, white hot shocks of intense bright sensation and Dean's hands are firm on his hips… but then Misha remembers what he promised.
It almost fucking kills him to push Dean away, let his cock slip out of those spit-slick lips with one last jolt of heat. But he's got something even better in mind.
"Where'd your rose go?" he asks, when Dean looks up curiously from between his legs.
"Seriously?" Dean sits up, kneels on the bed while he retrieves his rose from where he'd put it on the bedside table. He's naked too, and Misha slips his hands behind his head and enjoys the view. A little pudgier than he'd expected. But that's okay. Gives him something to hang on to.
"Seriously," Misha says. And when he sees the rose stem, long and slender and delicate in Dean's rough hands, his dick twitches in anticipation. "Lots of lube."
Dean shakes his head incredulously as he coats the stem with KY. "I mean, I've tried plenty of stuff," he says, and then settles back down between Misha's legs. "But I don't think this is gonna do much for you."
He strokes a finger down the soft skin between Misha's balls, touches the rim of his asshole.
And even though it feels good, Misha laughs. "Not there."
Dean looks confused. For about two seconds, until Misha nods pointedly at the rose. At how long and slender the stem is.
It's blunt and thick when Dean pushes it against the head of Misha's cock. Everything's sticky with lube, and the only sound is their breathing, ragged and panting.
Then a long groan, "Mm," when the plastic stem slips into the Misha's slit, harder than Dean's tongue and it's so fucking intense, thick and weird and awesome.
Misha doesn't look away as the long, green stem begins to disappear down the length of his dick - the slide of it is all pressure, fuck, filling his up so he feels stuffed and impossibly hard and like he's going to come just from this. He can hear the hitch in Dean's breathing.
"That's good?" He sounds surprised.
"Fuck." It's better than good. "Fucking…fuck." He feels swollen, shuddering with little shocks of pressure, like he's going to explode and all that's stopping him is that hard length of plastic.