Thank God Claude’s telling him not to dally – rather than not to proceed. For a second (just an outdrawn blink of his eyes), he was afraid. To be discouraged now, with Claude’s cock more or less pushed against his face. Smile dissipating, he takes a moment more to simply look – at the long lines of flesh and skin, the head already glistening, Claude’s hand in his hair telling him all that he can’t possibly convey in words now. In public.

Christ.

Taking a deep breath, he finally reaches up with one hand, curling his fingers around the base of Claude’s cock. Guiding the whole length of it away from his body, he opens up wide and sucks the head into his mouth. The taste explodes on his tongue; arousal, sweat, fluids and skin. The scent of sex goes straight to his cock and he takes a moment to enjoy, to suck on the tip, saliva running down the shaft in slim, wet drops. Then, he complies – swallowing and going slow to avoid choking, he relaxes his throat and takes his cock in. Inch by inch, willfully ignoring the very instinctual urge to gag on it, his jaw straining all the way until he’s got his nose buried in Claude’s soft pubic hair. Filled up completely and utterly, his mind a haze of sensations, his free hand cradling Claude’s inner thigh hard.