[Beelzebub can feel his face heating up as Temenos starts to move, easily bobbing with him, eager to get him as far into his mouth as he can. The fist that has been lazily pumping the base of him drops away to run against the back of his thigh and take hold of of his hips and ass with a clawing grip as he lets the cleric sink deeper.
His swallowing doesn't stop, and outside of the most minor of hitches in his breath, there's no hesitation to draw him to the pressure of his throat. Someone does not have a gag reflex, apparently, for how energetically he's working his tongue and mouth and throat against the taste of Temenos.
His eyes flick up with a glint of pure enjoyment, of deep and heated desire, as the hand against Temenos's ass urges him forward. Move. Give him more.]
no subject
His swallowing doesn't stop, and outside of the most minor of hitches in his breath, there's no hesitation to draw him to the pressure of his throat. Someone does not have a gag reflex, apparently, for how energetically he's working his tongue and mouth and throat against the taste of Temenos.
His eyes flick up with a glint of pure enjoyment, of deep and heated desire, as the hand against Temenos's ass urges him forward. Move. Give him more.]