after edging shane for an hour, ilya makes him straddle his chest, put his cock between ilya’s huge tits and squeeze them around it. he grips shane’s hips and starts grinding them back and forth, the sloppy slide of precum making each movement so, so easy and effortless.
“this is how you fuck, shane,” ilya says, and shane can only whimper in return because he’s been on the very very edge for ages and ilya’s chest hair rubs ever so slightly against his oversensitive cock and his brain is filled with cum cum cum please can i cum but ilya hasn’t given him permission yet.
one of ilya’s hands leaves shane’s hip and lifts up to his flushed cheek, patting it lightly, with a hint of condescension.
“you wanted to try topping, yes?” and shane nods furiously, hot tears steaming down his face into ilya’s palm. “then you should learn how to do it properly.”
“ilya, please, i can’t—” shane whines when ilya’s other hand drifts to the moving tip of his cock, caressing it with the pad of his thumb every time it appears from between his pecs.
“ah no, no, shane, you cannot come,” ilya tuts, giving shane’s cheek a small slap. “how can you top me if you come so fast? you would not want me to come first?”
shane shakes his head, then nods, then shakes his head again, because he honest to god can’t figure out which one it’s supposed to be. “yes, yes, ilya, please, want to please you… want you to come so bad…”
“good boy.” with one last pat to his cheek, ilya moves his hand back down to shane’s hip. his fingers squeeze around shane’s tip with a squelch, tearing a strangled, borderline tortured moan from him. “i will clench around you like this, you understand? you have to hold it. be good for me, sweetheart, and you will get to come too.”
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