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Sinric sets the plates aside, taking one of the towel and Hannibal's hand. He leads Hannibal a little into the woods, along the shore of the lake. There's another little patch of sand, a beachlet protected from view by the trees.

He spreads the towel and lays down on it, drawing his tunic up his leg. "Just as we were before."

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Hannibal undulates int the touch, leaning over to kiss the other nipple.

Sinric's moan ripples musically as he arches, spreading his legs wide. He reaches around, fumbling for Hannibal's belt, wanted more skin.

Hannibal reaches down to stroke the inside of Sinric's thigh again, coming closer so he can be more easily stripped.

Sinric pulls at the hem of Hannibal's shirt, pulling it over his head before kissing him deeply. He presses his soft breasts against Hannibal's hard chest, his skin blood-hot and flushing.

Hannibal moves in his arms, sliding against Sinric's smooth skin, Hannibal's sparse body hair nevertheless easing the friction as they slide against each other.

Sinric reaches for Hannibal's belt, slipping it an his fly open to cup him warmly.

Content as he is, breasts bared and the open front of his tunic sifting against his thighs, Sinric makes no move to shed his own clothes. There's nothing under them to impede their please and there's something wonderfully erotic about sharing pleasure half dressed.

Hammibal pushes into Sinric's touch, giving a little moan. "You will make me want to..." he murmurs.

"Tell me?" Sinric begs, clever fingers caressing from root to tip.

"Spread you and enter you!" Hannibal gasps.

Sinric is well on the way of knowing, every time, how to make Hannibal lose utter control.

"Spread me." Sinric begs, rubbing his leg against Hannibal's thigh. "Enter me. Plough me deep, to the root of pleasure. Bring me moaning to my fall."

"Yes!" Hannibal moans, his eyes glittering fiercely red in the shameless sunlight. He reaches for his basket -- it seems he came prepared.

"You always know. That is moment will come." He moans, arching under Hannibal. "That we'll grow so hungry for each other that I will beg you to take me. That I will open to you longingly."

"And I will dive in with intense greed," Hannibal murmurs in a half-growl.

Sinric arches again, rubbing against Hannibal like a cat. "Would you have be beg?"

HAnnibal chuckles, pushes Sinric's knees far back, and enters him with slickened fingers.

Sinric's cry of joy is sweet and high, his body hot and tight around Hannibal's fingers. He's so open in his pleasure, giving everything to Hannibal and gladly.

Hannibal chuckles, driving his fingers deeper.

It drives a high moan out of Sinric, clenching tightly around him as he surges up to kiss Hannibal passionately.

Hannibal kneels up and readies his prick, generously coating it with the oil, showing off for Sinric's sake.

Sinric watches him greedily, lips red and swallow. He arches up, rubbing his slender ankle against Hannibal's hip.

"Sinric!" Hannibal gasps, smoothly pushing himself inside.

Sinric lets his head fall back to the blankets, arching his lean body as he takes Hannibal in deep. He feels Hannibal near the root of pleasure, clenching tightly around him, giving himself over to the feeling.

Hannibal kisses him, deeply and greedily, and starts thrusting home.

Sinric cups Hannibal's rear, strong slights hands massaging him with each thrust. He opens himself - his mouth and his body, drinking in as much of Hannibal as he can. Giving as much as he can in return.

"Sinric!" Hannibal moans, thrusting g deep and slow and true.