Macnair moved his hand and Ford’s head spun. This was exactly what he wanted, although he hadn’t known it until this moment and certainly wouldn’t have been able to ask for it. The feeling of the other man’s hand around his wrist sent a rush of adrenaline through him. The knowledge that Macnair was directing him, taking control in even so minor a matter as where Ford put his hand, drove him wild. He’d already had the very beginnings of an erection growing beneath his trousers but now he swelled considerably knowing that Macnair was driving this interaction. It made him worry a little less about coming across as so inexperienced, too (though he still didn’t want it to be too obvious), because if he did something wrong Macnair would just correct him. He’d decided that Ford was worth the effort after all, and perhaps there would be missteps along the way, but Ford was nothing if not eager to please.
There were too many other things going on for Ford to even consciously register them, though his body was reacting to each and every one. Macnair’s hands became the least interesting thing about this for at least a moment. Ford’s hand was on Macnair’s backside, and he’d never touched another person there but was finding that he enjoyed it immensely. He wasn’t sure if it was the feeling of a soft, squishy body part beneath his fingers as he squeezed or how immediately this drew them closer to each other; it was a more powerful way to hold on than just having his hand on Macnair’s hip, and Ford thought maybe if he pulled he could force that movement that Macnair had done just a second ago with his hips, that thrust that had knocked all of the breath out of Ford’s body with how unexpected and pleasurable it had been. And then there was the noise, which made Ford feel briefly light headed. Knowing that Macnair was enjoying this was an even bigger rush than the feeling of the kiss itself.
Oh, his neck! This was the thing Fisk had done right at the end, the thing that had sent Ford nearly past the point of no return, and it made Ford shiver with pleasure in a way that he was sure Macnair could feel, close as they were. “This,” he answered immediately, not even needing to think about it. It was a good thing that Macnair had just started in on his neck before he’d asked, because otherwise a question like that might have had Ford paralyzed with anxiety — it was not something he’d given any great degree of thought to — but now it seemed as simple a question to answer as what color his hair was, or some other obvious and immutable fact of his life. Ford’s free hand went to the other half of Macnair’s backside and he pulled the other man towards him as he bucked his hips forward, grinding against him. He was breathing heavily and only just had the presence of mind to duck his head enough to kiss Macnair’s neck in turn, trying not to get lost in just his own sensations. “I like this.”
There were too many other things going on for Ford to even consciously register them, though his body was reacting to each and every one. Macnair’s hands became the least interesting thing about this for at least a moment. Ford’s hand was on Macnair’s backside, and he’d never touched another person there but was finding that he enjoyed it immensely. He wasn’t sure if it was the feeling of a soft, squishy body part beneath his fingers as he squeezed or how immediately this drew them closer to each other; it was a more powerful way to hold on than just having his hand on Macnair’s hip, and Ford thought maybe if he pulled he could force that movement that Macnair had done just a second ago with his hips, that thrust that had knocked all of the breath out of Ford’s body with how unexpected and pleasurable it had been. And then there was the noise, which made Ford feel briefly light headed. Knowing that Macnair was enjoying this was an even bigger rush than the feeling of the kiss itself.
Oh, his neck! This was the thing Fisk had done right at the end, the thing that had sent Ford nearly past the point of no return, and it made Ford shiver with pleasure in a way that he was sure Macnair could feel, close as they were. “This,” he answered immediately, not even needing to think about it. It was a good thing that Macnair had just started in on his neck before he’d asked, because otherwise a question like that might have had Ford paralyzed with anxiety — it was not something he’d given any great degree of thought to — but now it seemed as simple a question to answer as what color his hair was, or some other obvious and immutable fact of his life. Ford’s free hand went to the other half of Macnair’s backside and he pulled the other man towards him as he bucked his hips forward, grinding against him. He was breathing heavily and only just had the presence of mind to duck his head enough to kiss Macnair’s neck in turn, trying not to get lost in just his own sensations. “I like this.”
Set by Lady!