Watching Lars’ gorgeous pink cock sway between his limbs is hypnotic to the promotor, unaware of his mouth still agape and drooling its contents as he gazes, worshipping the spent length with his eyes. His hazy stare is shaken awake when then younger boy has closed their distance again, the touch of his hands to Marty’s cock makes him suddenly aware again just how incredibly, painfully aroused he’s gotten and he’s throwing his head back to moan, which can be fully heard now.
Every tiny little motion of Lars’ hand as it beings to pump him is electric to the hypeman. The way the bandaids and bands make soft scrapes over his skin just adds texture and sensation that he now needs so bad. Marty’s lost the energy at this point to squirm in the uncontrollable way he normally would as he gets lost in pleasure, but he does have the energy to continue to make long drawn out groans as his dick twitches under Lars’ fingers.
The second Lars’ hot wet mouth has taken in the tip of Marty’s cock he’s shouting mixes of Lars’ name and some unintelligible babble. He tangles one hand in the boy’s hair and with his other hand he’s grabbing at his shirt. Lars’ mouth is so hot and so perfectly wet; his tongue feels incredible to the hype man as it laps at him, cleaning him up.
Marty is shaking. Lars’ mouth focused on his most sensitive spot and his talented hand stroking him slow has the older man going crazy. He feels a warmth inside his stomach that is about to burst, it matches the incredible heat around his dick head. “L-Lars…Lars! Ughn…oh, God, yes, Lars, Lars I’m, it’s too good, I can’t last–” He manages to get a sentence shouted out before his shaking peeks, his cock pulses rapidly, cum shooting out of him fast in thick, huge globs. He’s whimpering as his hips try to settle and his balls ache from being utterly drained completely.
He’s conscious of Marty’s moans, the steady increase in their frequency and volume. He’s aware of them, but barely registering what any of it means. He’s dedicated to his task as well as still stunned by his own euphoria, which lingers throughout his body, leaving him with a foggy mind and a tingling midsection. The sensation is heightened by the pro-motor’s taste, by the feeling of his warm cock heavy in his head, by the weight of the head of his dick pressed against his tongue. There’s nothing to think about. His senses are absorbing only the most visceral of things.
He doesn’t think, either, when he hears Marty’s telltale cries as he approaches his climax. The way his voice fragments and he ejects Lars’ name from his mouth in something akin to a scream. His body simply knows, and he isn’t surprised when his mouth begins to fill with hot, creamy liquid. He continues to suck diligently and swallow each wave of the viscous fluid as it enters his mouth in spurts, feeling each ribbon of cum drape over his tongue and splash against the back of his throat.
His hand slides all the way down to the hype man’s balls, massaging the swollen mounds as they’re depleted of their savory broth. His palm weighs against them, as if he can force more of it out, before the appendage attaches itself to his aching length, gripping it tightly as he inches up the shaft slowly, his actions again hinting at his wicked intentions.
Once he’s sure he’s obtained every last drop he allows Marty’s cock to slip from his mouth, a dribble of cum clinging to his lips and forming a bridge between them and the slit of the older man’s phallus. It’s broken as Lars straightens his back, fixing his catlike eyes to the pro-motor’s gaze.
“Sh-Shit, that was fun.” His voice trembles, it’s been a while since he’s spoken. He can feel the velvet of Marty’s cum still glazing his throat. “Wasn’t I supposed to, like, rate how good of head you give, because it’s like... a billion out of ten or something.” A snort, cheeks tinted magenta. “Now you rate my cock.” His hand is still idly stroking the hype-man’s dick.
