[ He'd probably have liked to pay all the attention it honestly deserved to the way Khan sucked his other testicle into his mouth and licked at it rather thoroughly with his tongue, good effort, there, very -- good, yes, but the other man chooses that same moment to push 2 (two, he's serious, two) fingers against his arsehole, the sensation of fingertips circulating the sphincter, slicking up the muscle making his brain practically melt, probably from the inside, like someone bloody well microwaved it. For fuck's sake. He eases down on his back fully, hands coming to a rest on his stomach, fingers twitching slightly when Khan traces a wet path down over his perineum with his thumb, shifting closer so the man's cock pushes against his inner thigh, rub, rub, rub. Sensations from all angles right now and he's having a bit of trouble keeping up here, his cock weeping and his musculature tight from anticipation which won't do -- he really needs to relax, if this is going to be as good as Khan can give.
Then, the other man -- gets to work, indeed, bloody hell, pushing his two fingers against John's arsehole, forcing them past his opening slowly, but insistently, waiting only as long as it takes John's body to adjust to the intrusion. His eyes fall closed and he arches his back slightly off the mattress, trying to accommodate the addition of something so very solid, so very big, Christ, those long, massive fingers, into his arse. He manages to control his breathing, fall into a rhythm of deep breaths and long exhalations for every time Khan pulls back and pushes in, his arsehole opening slightly in response every time, making the penetrative motion -- really rather good, tight inward friction, the notion of being filled, oh, very much filled. It's intense. How Khan stretches him, pushing deeper for every fourth stroke, like a rapid buildup for something even wilder, preparing for Mount Everest by hiking on a Hewitt.
As the seconds pass, he can feel his entire body opening up to the other man gradually, the presence of him within his very system making a sweat break out across his brow and he groans, lifting one arm to throw it across his face, the way he's so utterly on display somehow mattering more like this, here, now, with his cock leaving a trail of precum across his stomach, jerking slightly in time with the movements of Khan's hand -- and his face red from exertion, mouth open and panting. At the sound of the other man applying lube to his cock, John eventually lets his arm fall away again, bending his head to catch a glimpse of him, of his hand stroking his length, his eyes dark, heated, staring at him, directly, unblinkingly.
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Then, the other man -- gets to work, indeed, bloody hell, pushing his two fingers against John's arsehole, forcing them past his opening slowly, but insistently, waiting only as long as it takes John's body to adjust to the intrusion. His eyes fall closed and he arches his back slightly off the mattress, trying to accommodate the addition of something so very solid, so very big, Christ, those long, massive fingers, into his arse. He manages to control his breathing, fall into a rhythm of deep breaths and long exhalations for every time Khan pulls back and pushes in, his arsehole opening slightly in response every time, making the penetrative motion -- really rather good, tight inward friction, the notion of being filled, oh, very much filled. It's intense. How Khan stretches him, pushing deeper for every fourth stroke, like a rapid buildup for something even wilder, preparing for Mount Everest by hiking on a Hewitt.
As the seconds pass, he can feel his entire body opening up to the other man gradually, the presence of him within his very system making a sweat break out across his brow and he groans, lifting one arm to throw it across his face, the way he's so utterly on display somehow mattering more like this, here, now, with his cock leaving a trail of precum across his stomach, jerking slightly in time with the movements of Khan's hand -- and his face red from exertion, mouth open and panting. At the sound of the other man applying lube to his cock, John eventually lets his arm fall away again, bending his head to catch a glimpse of him, of his hand stroking his length, his eyes dark, heated, staring at him, directly, unblinkingly.
John can't quite catch his breath anymore. ]