I feel like Price has sucked Nik off in the heli while Nik was inspecting everything
"Voltage stable. Avionics coming online," Nik said, the zip of his flight suit opening to its fullest extent, firm fingers dipping inside his boxers to pull his cock out, already rock hard and eager.
"Fuel on... Eight hundred pounds total. Fuel valves open." Warm breath ghosted over his wet slit, his shaft pulsing in the strong hand wrapped around its girth. The tip of a hot tongue lapped over his crown, and his lower lip rolled briefly beneath his teeth.
"Oil pressure zero, temperature cold. Limits m-marked." Soft lips kissed beneath his head, down his shaft, following the thick vein beneath into the dense thatch at the base, the brush of neatly trimmed beard against sensitive velvet skin making Nik's toes curl in his boots, his thighs spreading, aching arousal heavy in his balls.
"Cyclic free and correct. Collective full range. Pedals responding." His cock head slipped over a wet, clever tongue, chapped lips closing to suck as that strong hand pumped slowly, sliding through pre and slick saliva as it dripped down his length, pooling against his sac, noises slick and obscene.
"COM one set, COM two standby. Intercom good... Mmm, nnh." His cock sank deeper, sensitive head pushing over the ridges at the roof of the greedy mouth swallowing him down, deep, pleased moans vibrating down his length to knot in his groin, his belly clenching in tense pleasure as his cock was devoured like a damn delicacy.
"GPS aligned. Heading and attitude indicators up-p-p-right." One hand lifted from the controls to thread through scruffy-soft hair, brown, streaks of red and grey. Hollowed out cheeks, hungry mouth swallowing him until his cock head reached the spongy give at the back of a fluttering throat. Swirlih tongue caressed his shaft, the brush of beard against the softer skin of his underbelly reminding him of just what handsome face was impaling itself on his prick.
"Master caution te... tested . Blyat," Nik paused, his cock head swallowed down beyond a spasming gag reflex that relaxed to let him past. Wet, sloppy heat working up and down his shaft, gathering sparks sitting behind his eyes, his cock throbbing as it was milked for thick spurts of pre, "lights and tone con-confirmed, nnh. John."
Cockpit checks complete. Nik slumped back in his seat, hips lifting as he fucked gently into John's mouth, moaning at the snug, wet squeeze around the challenging girth of his prick, pulling John down until his nose nested against Nik's thigh as he came down his throat.
Later, he'd sit John in his lap and enjoy his tight hole, his slutty, delinquent moans as he was stretched open. But that was the landing routine.
pixelskylines
titsay
romaincrisis
yousharknotpass
