Marc holding down Bez as he rides the puppy hard. He bounces on Bez’ lap as he uses the younger’s cock to chase his pleasure.
Bez is whining pathetically as he tries his best not to cum. He’s overwhelmed and overstimulated. But he’s a good boy! He is! He can make Marc happy!
Marc grabs Bez’ face in a tight grip. His face was flush and his hair stuck to his skin from the sweat, but his dark eyes shined bright.
‘Like pearls,’ Bez thinks.
Complying, Bez groans. Marc’s grip on his jaw would scare anyone else, but not Bez. He likes it when Marc is mean.
Marc hovers above Bez and lets his saliva drip into that open mouth.
“Messy puppy,” he chuckles, not slowing the movement of his hips.
Bez feels tears stream down the sides of his face. It’s too good, he can’t take it anymore. He sobs and does his best to plead with his eyes. He’s so so close.
“You’re a good boy, yeah? You can do it, buddy.” Marc releases the grip on his jaw to sit back and show off his body more, leaning on Bez’ legs.
Bez’ face is so messy that he can’t tell if he’s drooling or if Marc gave him that much spit. Marc looks so good on his lap and he wants to touch. But no, he’s a good boy. Marc said he’s a good boy. He is. He is. He is.
Marc sees Bez clenching his fists. His poor pup was shaking, just a bit more and Marc knows his well trained dog will reveal himself a mutt.
Marc starts dropping himself even harder on Bez’ cock. He sticks a few fingers in his mouth, grasping a pec with the other hand.
“Puppy… I’m so wet, see?” Marc pauses to display himself. He spreads his legs, showing off where his hole swallowed Bez. Ignoring his own leaking cock, he ghosts a finger around his pink rim, clenching unconsciously.
Bez is a good boy. But Bez is also just a dog. When you leave a fat juicy steak out for a starving animal, you cannot expect it to ignore the meal. It will devour and leave nothing but bones.
Bez sees Marc, the most beautiful man in the world, speared on his cock and spread on his lap. He feels himself be squeezed by the warmest hole he’s ever been in. Then, he sees the face that must have been cursed by beauty itself; dark eyes half-lidded by desire, cheeks flush and skin rosy, and a red mouth parted to show a peek of a pink tongue.
Bez is definitely salivating now. His tears have dried but drool slips past his lips as he takes in the vision before him. He feels something in his belly clenching. And Bez doesn’t know it, but the noises that have started to leave him cannot be described by anything other than animalistic growls.
Marc runs both hands from his thighs to his pecs. He squeezes both, his chest makes for a perfect handful, and lets out a breathy moan.
All dogs, no matter how tame, how well-trained, will act the same in the presence of a meal after being denied for so long. And what is Marc if not the most succulent of feasts?
Bez is a good boy, he promises. But Bez is also a dog.
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