Happy, high, and with Emcee

[thewidewideworld]

{From here}

Sinric groans as Emcee's hand moves on his thigh, tilting his head back just a little more. Emcee's breath against his skin sends shivers down his spine. "Please? All of that! I'm yours."

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[i_am_your_host]

With one hand sliding up between Sinric's legs, the other buries itself in his shining hair. Emcee caresses the back of his head and leans in, pressing against him with only just enough weight to allow his other hand to move.

He kisses his delicate jaw, his smooth, warm neck. And he cups him in his palm, almost as if he were a woman.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric whimpers breathlessly, his tiny manhood hard in Emcee's palm. Like a woman is just the right way to touch him right now, delicate and tender, and teasingly slow despite his own hungry need.

The scar between his thighs is alive with sensation and he widens his stance to feel Emcee's touch against it.

His hands move to Emcee's waist, fingers moving softly of the texture cloth of Emcee's shirt, fascinated by everything right now.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee's touch is indeed slow and delicate, stroking him lightly, fingering the scar to hear him and feel him react. And his lips move to find his mouth, to swallow every breath and sound he makes.

[thewidewideworld]

They are tender, soft sounds, breathless and wonderful. He kisses back, his tongue darting over Emcee's lips in furtively licks.

He whimpers soft words of pleasure in Greek as he rides the tips of Emcee's fingers from the base of his little snail to the rim of his hole. He slips a hand under Emcee's shirt, searching for skin.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee's fingers are warm, their touch intimate and knowing. He relishes the way Sinric feels in his hand as much as Sinric enjoys the sensations he gives him.

He smiles against his lips and at the flicks of his tongue.

"You're already hard," he whispers with amused delight. "Is that for me?"

[thewidewideworld]

"Yes!" Sinric laughs, stealing little laps of Emcee's lips. "Would that I had more to pleasure you with but what I have is yours."

[i_am_your_host]

"You have everything I want," he assures him with a grin and a kiss.

He gently slips his hand out from between Sinric's legs, leaving the warmth and closeness for a moment. He then sheds his leather coat and spreads it out in the crook of the tree.

"Climb up and sit there."

The coat will keep Sinric's clothes from snagging and his delicate skin from chafing on the bark.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric whimpers regretfully as he heat of Emcee's hand leaves him, his eyes half rolled back with pleasure.

It takes him a moment for the words to sink in, and a moment longer to coordinate himself enough to clamber up into the tree. Arms outstretches to hold himself up in the crosswise branches, he looks like a painting of Saint Sebastian, minus the arrows.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee helps him up, giving him a boost and keeping his skirts from tangling. And once he's seated among the branches, petals still drifting down and around, he does indeed look like a work of art.

Emcee's admiration shows in his upturned face as he stands at Sinric's knees. He slides both hands up his legs now, so smooth and lithe under his palms, pushing the hem of his skirt up his thighs.

[thewidewideworld]

There's always been something wonderfully erotic about touching half clothed. The thrill of the clandestine touch, the taboo of a hand slipped discreetly under cloth.

Not that there is anything clandestine or discreet about this. Nor does he want there to be. He whimpers warmly, his eyes half hidden in shadow as he looks down at Emcee.

Just as pale and lovely, Emcee has the look of a spirit in the moonlight, some tempting incubus come to ravish him. The thought alone makes his little member ache.

[i_am_your_host]

A dryad and a satyr. Just doing what they do.

Emcee lifts Sinric's legs onto his shoulders and plants kisses up the inside of his milky, pale thigh. The scent of his warm skin mingling with the perfume of cherry blossoms is an intoxicating blend.

"Mm, darling, you delicious creature," he purrs against his skin, taking his tongue closer and closer to the apex of his thighs.

[thewidewideworld]

Heathen gods under a moonlit sky. What could be more perfect?

The touch of Emcee's lips and tongue on his over-sensitive skin sends a delicious tremor through him and he has to cling tighter to the branches, not daring to let go. He can feel the brush of heat and cool night air tracing the path of those kisses, making him giddy with pleasure.