( the hammering starts again loudly )you know normally i’d be down there in a heartbeat
but now we’re both waiting. think of it as edging, hop. my tongue and fingers in your ass, but each time you want to paint your own tits or my face white? i back off, delay the gratification for a bit
i wanna be worked up by the time i crawl between your legs, rub my face against that monster you’re packing because i can’t even wait to get you out. you like how desperate i get, i know you do
it can be for people who aren't in the same room with this wonderful mental network. or actually... even people in the same room who gotta focus on something else
that's an idea( next moot hall, baby!
but back to being a nuisance. he can't send the sensation of himself between jim's legs, mouthing at his cock through the thin material of the underwear he's wearing but he can sure send the visuals of it, of his own desperate little whines when jim tugged him away with a firm hand in his hair. )
[the image startles him. it appears before him, little hologram of his own legs, his own cock, his own hands, Eddie's hair. he drops his pan, hisses when it lands on his toes, and then gives it a kick for good measure.
he realises, quicker now, that Eddie is not going to give up. and it's not as though the image isn't appealing; it's not as though he doesn't want it - it's just that he'd rather have it here, and now, and knows that he could.
it's not like being undercover, talking on a stolen phone with Diane with his hand shoved down his pants. it's so lazy, it's so carefully thought out. he's sitting in his chair before he can really think twice about it, with his thighs spread wide, massaging over his forehead. before he can second-guess it, he thinks:]
You want my cock that bad, baby? You usually ask nicer.
( there he is. eddie's grinning to himself, a few nails in his mouth and a hammer in hand which is probably the worst task for him to be doing while he's trying to rile jim up. it's inevitable that he'll lose focus on this soon, yeah, but he wants to draw it out.
maybe it's revenge for the fact that even after john healed him, daddy's fat dick was off limits for a few days. at least anywhere near his mouth.
he can work with this. )i want it, daddy
please? you haven't let me want to taste you, make it good i'm good, right?
[The gauze on his neck, for one. Then the fear that the strain might hurt; that all the training they've done for Eddie to take him whole might have to go right back to square one. Not that he'd mind, really, but -
yeah, i want it want you to fuck my throat so i feel you for days want to choke on you and then keep your dick in my mouth after, feel the weight of you on my tongue and only think about that and how you taste
( the hammering stops. it’s because eddie’s picturing it, wanting it. the sound he lets out is a needy sort of whine, the sort few get to hear and he’s glad no one’s around to but the emotions that come through the mental bond are clear enough.
patience is also not actually something eddie practices himself ) have your pants off in 30 seconds
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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tell me what you’d do if i was kneeling between your legs right now instead of up here
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you’re killing me
i am trying to sext
think sexy
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daddy :(
pls? ( he will just send puppy faces and the general horny feeling at jim’s brain otherwise )
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but now we’re both waiting. think of it as edging, hop. my tongue and fingers in your ass, but each time you want to paint your own tits or my face white? i back off, delay the gratification for a bit
i wanna be worked up by the time i crawl between your legs, rub my face against that monster you’re packing because i can’t even wait to get you out. you like how desperate i get, i know you do
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You know phone sex is for people who aren't in the same building?
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that's an idea ( next moot hall, baby!
but back to being a nuisance. he can't send the sensation of himself between jim's legs, mouthing at his cock through the thin material of the underwear he's wearing but he can sure send the visuals of it, of his own desperate little whines when jim tugged him away with a firm hand in his hair. )
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he realises, quicker now, that Eddie is not going to give up. and it's not as though the image isn't appealing; it's not as though he doesn't want it - it's just that he'd rather have it here, and now, and knows that he could.
it's not like being undercover, talking on a stolen phone with Diane with his hand shoved down his pants. it's so lazy, it's so carefully thought out. he's sitting in his chair before he can really think twice about it, with his thighs spread wide, massaging over his forehead. before he can second-guess it, he thinks:]
You want my cock that bad, baby? You usually ask nicer.
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maybe it's revenge for the fact that even after john healed him, daddy's fat dick was off limits for a few days. at least anywhere near his mouth.
he can work with this. ) i want it, daddy
please? you haven't let me
want to taste you, make it good
i'm good, right?
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[The gauze on his neck, for one. Then the fear that the strain might hurt; that all the training they've done for Eddie to take him whole might have to go right back to square one. Not that he'd mind, really, but -
He worries. He's been worried. ]
Is that what you want? For me to fuck your mouth?
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want you to fuck my throat so i feel you for days
want to choke on you and then keep your dick in my mouth after, feel the weight of you on my tongue and only think about that and how you taste
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Then what are you waiting for?
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patience is also not actually something eddie practices himself ) have your pants off in 30 seconds