"Yes Ser." He leans enough weight into the strong arm to bow and watch the little slip of metal trace down the length of his own body, toward the bulge rising in his trousers as Zevran takes his sweet time working his way there. His voice hushes, but there's a deliberate effort to speak properly, too. To speak as he might be bid by a man of status. "An' it please you, Ser."
"Good boy." It's not as soft and sweet and breathless as Jack could be- but they are only beginning. Part of the allure is anticipation and if there is one thing that he can weave like a tapestry- it's anticipation. The faintly curved tip of the pick dips and glides into the lacing of Jack's trousers- loosing the knot and releasing the tension bit by bit, giving just enough pressure to tease the trapped erection below. "It pleases me well, Gazza."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
antivanleather) wrote2015-06-05 09:11 pm
no subject
no subject