Page 90 of Under Construction

Dennis whimpers around his mouthful, arching up to chase that intoxicating, heady smell—even more potent now.

His enthusiasm draws a groan from Chris, whose thumbs find Dennis’s nipples, circling them before flicking rapidly until precum beads at Dennis’s tip.

Dennis grabs Chris's hands, pressing them harder against his breasts, showing Chris exactly how to pinch and tug until his nipples slip free from the firm snag, again and again. Each delicious squeeze draws muffled moans from his stuffed mouth.

"Fuck, baby, you're so hot it hurts," Chris groans, twisting Dennis’s nipples until he curves off the bed, pleasure-pain shooting straight to his cock as he garbles around Chris's balls. “God, you’re unreal.”

Chris's filthy praise floods Dennis’s veins like a drug, each word amplified by the cruel bliss of obedient fingers on his chest.

"You like that, princess?" Chris pinches harder. Pulls and shakes. "Like how I'm the only one who knows exactly what your body needs?"

Dennis’s jaw aches, his tongue too sore to keep servicing properly. Chris's balls press down deeper, choking him, making him gag in an expulsion of drool that trails messily down to his collarbone.

It has his hand stroking quicker over his cock while Chris tweaks and torments his tits—something indulgent turning into something meaner, harsher.

The burn makes everything more intense. Each jolt makes his nerves sing brighter, his own balls drawing up tight against his body.

"Look at what you've become." Chris's voice grates around the words, rough and raw. "So ruined and needy, letting me wreck you like this, just for me."

Dennis jacks himself harder, faster, planting his feet flat on the mattress to lift his chest higher for Chris's abuse.

His knees spread wide as Chris plays with his nipples, voice dropping lower with each twist.

"Want my cum all over that pretty face?" Chris's words slur together. "Want me to fuck you up? Leave you dripping, wearing all of me so everyone knows?"

His fingers keep wrenching Dennis’s nubs raw—flushed and burning. "Gonna shoot just for you, baby, make you wear it like— oh shit,fuck!" Chris stutters forward, too close for words.

Dennis tries to begyes,please! He wants Chris streaming down his throat, dripping off his chin, glazing his chest. But all that comes out are these starved, frenzied sounds, the vibrations spilling helplessly around the satisfying weight of Chris’s sex filling his mouth.

His jaw protests every movement, too spent to do much more than cradle Chris’s sac, his tongue pressing weakly against the taut skin.

He shakes his head side to side, coaxing more friction where his mouth alone can no longer provide, hungry for every reaction it draws from above.

It’s all he has left—this final, relentless effort to draw more from Chris, to wring him out completely.

"Oh god— princess— I'm—" Chris's whole body goes rigid before he finally convulses, coming untouched and pulsing thick, creamy ropes across Dennis’s middle—the first splash of warmth hitting his stomach, surprising them both.

Chris’s hips jerk erratically while his fingers clamp down on Dennis’s nipples, yanking harder than he should—harder than he means to—but he's lost to it, unable to stop himself.

The almost-brutal pull has Dennis trying to gasp, the sound smothered around the weight of Chris in his mouth, the sting heightening the heat punching deep in his belly. Another hot spurt lands on Dennis’s skin, both of them dazed by the force of Chris’s release.

Dennis’s moan gets trapped behind Chris's balls as he feels that goopy, moist proof of Chris's desire smear his skin. The scent of Chris’s spend—sharp, familiar, and purely him—floods Dennis’s senses, stains him as Chris’s, even if he pretends otherwise.

Each warm splash belongs to him, sticky white evidence of how much Chris wants him, craves him. It’s his gauge, his claim, all for him—only for Dennis.

Chris's cock keeps pumping, dripping heat onto Dennis’s sternum as Dennis writhes beneath him, his own need cresting.

The mess of it—Chris’s cum pooling across his body, the sticky streaks gleaming under the light, the feel of his knuckles slippery with Chris’s release—pushes Dennis over.

His body seizes in a full-body tremor, spilling over his hand with a smothered cry, his own load blending into the mess Chris has already made of him.

They stay frozen like that, trembling together while their hearts thunder in sync.

Chris's nipple-torture gentles into absent circles, his thumbs stroking Dennis’s breasts as they both float in the afterglow until their breaths even out, muscles turning liquid and loose

"Fuck me, princess, You're something else," Chris breathes after, shaking his head in disbelief, dizzy from the experience.

He gingerly removes his balls from Dennis’s mouth, swearing non-stop as Dennis sucks them clean and dry on their way out. Then scoots backward so he can lean down to press kisses all over Dennis’s face—his forehead, between his eyes, the tip of his nose—before licking into his mouth kissing him backward, the suckle of lips from lips facing the opposite direction, making both of them chuckle.

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