[ Gorgug is trying to navigate this sexual endeavour with courtesy. A courtesy put forth to Fabian more so than Gorgug himself, but it isn't like he doesn't enjoy the idea and the result of Fabian's pleasure being put on display. He hooks an arm around Fabian's back so that he has that support once he's resting on Gorgug's lap, but it's also a helpful way of Gorgug moving the other if he needs to--and he will, surely, once his mouth wants to get lower. So he imagines, at the time.
But for now, he isn't here to be a tease. Not deliberately. Fabian says he doesn't care, but Gorgug can understand the sentiment as he reads it to be: he just wants to feel good. Gorgug still cares himself about what gets in the way, since it also means what Gorgug can't do, and-- he doesn't really stand to stab at Fabian carelessly. But for now, this angle does offer better access to do what he was trying to do before. His mouth reaches Fabian's chest, his hand not around Fabian's back touching over abs well-defined, always on full display in the tight-fitting shirts that Fabian wears, but never truly admired.
And Gorgug likes to learn. It's not straight-forward, it's not always easy--hell, it's really messy and sometimes it can be intense, and he and Zelda had to go through a lot to navigate her excitement in a way that felt comfortable for the both of them (though, really, Gorgug never complained--it was who Zelda was, and nothing about that bothered him beyond hoping she was having a good time). And he wants to learn now: how Fabian likes to be touched, where he wants to be touched. Over muscles that he works hard to keep, and how he likes his nipples to be played with. It's a different experience, but Gorgug isn't comparing his previous endeavours in the bedroom when he manages to suck his lips around Fabian's nipple, flicking at it with his tongue; and his other hand even coming up to play with the other, a thumb caressing against its erect state.
The only kind of toying with Fabian that Gorgug will give, and the sort he's rewarded for when he hears Fabian's moans above his head. His fingers against Fabian's back pressing snug on his flesh, and his hips do buck slightly for a friction they won't get, don't even try to. Truthfully, it's more of a twitch; an idea that his brain has, but that he doesn't have the capacity to fulfil right now with every part of Gorgug busy.
Fabian isn't busy. And he seems to get the idea to give Gorgug what his brain was seeking for, pleading, and everything in Gorgug slams to a halt. A lovely, hot halt where his dick is both pleased to be remembered, and also infuriated for the layers that Fabian is grinding against, with. There's a sharp intake of breath as Gorgug stops doing anything with his mouth, forehead pressed to Fabian's collarbone-- and he lets himself indulge in the sensations, even though the irritation at every obstacle in the way of him feeling real pleasure is at the forefront of his mind. I just want you, Fabian says, burning it into Gorgug's ears.
I want to fuck you, growls at the bottom of Gorgug's throat, but that he refuses to let come out.
He tries to grind back, little to no avail. He doesn't have the same angle Fabian does, the other in complete control, though Fabian will feel Gorgug's attempt at lifting his hips upward, uselessly. So he returns his mouth to Fabian instead, not asking for what he wants--not giving voice to the growing urge inside his stomach, the reminder of what he felt sinking his tusks into Fabian's skin to make him docile. His tusks still press into the muscle of Fabian's pec, but he doesn't use them to pinch, to hurt; he keeps using his tongue on the rigid tit under his mouth, and his forefinger and thumb are generous as they pinch and play with the other, more exposed nipple.
If he gives Fabian what he wants, then maybe he'll get what he wants, too. More grinding, yes, but he wants to hear Fabian as well--to hear him be so needy, tell him that Gorgug's giving him what he wants. To know he's on the right track, and to build up that arousal already growing impatient inside his jeans. ]
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But for now, he isn't here to be a tease. Not deliberately. Fabian says he doesn't care, but Gorgug can understand the sentiment as he reads it to be: he just wants to feel good. Gorgug still cares himself about what gets in the way, since it also means what Gorgug can't do, and-- he doesn't really stand to stab at Fabian carelessly. But for now, this angle does offer better access to do what he was trying to do before. His mouth reaches Fabian's chest, his hand not around Fabian's back touching over abs well-defined, always on full display in the tight-fitting shirts that Fabian wears, but never truly admired.
And Gorgug likes to learn. It's not straight-forward, it's not always easy--hell, it's really messy and sometimes it can be intense, and he and Zelda had to go through a lot to navigate her excitement in a way that felt comfortable for the both of them (though, really, Gorgug never complained--it was who Zelda was, and nothing about that bothered him beyond hoping she was having a good time). And he wants to learn now: how Fabian likes to be touched, where he wants to be touched. Over muscles that he works hard to keep, and how he likes his nipples to be played with. It's a different experience, but Gorgug isn't comparing his previous endeavours in the bedroom when he manages to suck his lips around Fabian's nipple, flicking at it with his tongue; and his other hand even coming up to play with the other, a thumb caressing against its erect state.
The only kind of toying with Fabian that Gorgug will give, and the sort he's rewarded for when he hears Fabian's moans above his head. His fingers against Fabian's back pressing snug on his flesh, and his hips do buck slightly for a friction they won't get, don't even try to. Truthfully, it's more of a twitch; an idea that his brain has, but that he doesn't have the capacity to fulfil right now with every part of Gorgug busy.
Fabian isn't busy. And he seems to get the idea to give Gorgug what his brain was seeking for, pleading, and everything in Gorgug slams to a halt. A lovely, hot halt where his dick is both pleased to be remembered, and also infuriated for the layers that Fabian is grinding against, with. There's a sharp intake of breath as Gorgug stops doing anything with his mouth, forehead pressed to Fabian's collarbone-- and he lets himself indulge in the sensations, even though the irritation at every obstacle in the way of him feeling real pleasure is at the forefront of his mind. I just want you, Fabian says, burning it into Gorgug's ears.
I want to fuck you, growls at the bottom of Gorgug's throat, but that he refuses to let come out.
He tries to grind back, little to no avail. He doesn't have the same angle Fabian does, the other in complete control, though Fabian will feel Gorgug's attempt at lifting his hips upward, uselessly. So he returns his mouth to Fabian instead, not asking for what he wants--not giving voice to the growing urge inside his stomach, the reminder of what he felt sinking his tusks into Fabian's skin to make him docile. His tusks still press into the muscle of Fabian's pec, but he doesn't use them to pinch, to hurt; he keeps using his tongue on the rigid tit under his mouth, and his forefinger and thumb are generous as they pinch and play with the other, more exposed nipple.
If he gives Fabian what he wants, then maybe he'll get what he wants, too. More grinding, yes, but he wants to hear Fabian as well--to hear him be so needy, tell him that Gorgug's giving him what he wants. To know he's on the right track, and to build up that arousal already growing impatient inside his jeans. ]