[As things progress, Solomon isn't so tight-lipped, not that remaining neutral had ever been a real goal. Pain, pleasure, any variation of effect can be fleeting, insufficient. Through all of Nysa's tricks, he's yet to feel so fulfilled in this context. Not to suggest he hasn't dabbled...
It's a simple motion and he's happy to be stretched out at his mercy as proven by the unabashed slips, outright whining as he retreats, arching away from that wall, squirming as if to stimulate more of that fullness somehow -- harder, faster, something like that. Words don't work as well as the vowels roll off his tongue, not when he's fully immersing himself into Takasugi's efforts.
Otherwise he'd humbly request a handjob. He can't do it himself; a hand does move, but only to brace himself against that wall, fingertips boring into it like the grips on a bowling ball. Half-lidded, he'll regard Takasugi with some vague look of glazed-over fondness and his grip eases up -- relaxes without release, urging him closer for something that was meant to be a kiss, but he's not sure if he can spare the breath. His lips spread open-mouthed, hot n' breathy affection across his jaw and while he hasn't a grip to spare on himself...
He will sort of. Roll his hips forward on occasion, sometimes to meet his, primarily so he can rub his dick against Takasugi's stomach. It isn't much, but any friction is good friction....]
no subject
It's a simple motion and he's happy to be stretched out at his mercy as proven by the unabashed slips, outright whining as he retreats, arching away from that wall, squirming as if to stimulate more of that fullness somehow -- harder, faster, something like that. Words don't work as well as the vowels roll off his tongue, not when he's fully immersing himself into Takasugi's efforts.
Otherwise he'd humbly request a handjob. He can't do it himself; a hand does move, but only to brace himself against that wall, fingertips boring into it like the grips on a bowling ball. Half-lidded, he'll regard Takasugi with some vague look of glazed-over fondness and his grip eases up -- relaxes without release, urging him closer for something that was meant to be a kiss, but he's not sure if he can spare the breath. His lips spread open-mouthed, hot n' breathy affection across his jaw and while he hasn't a grip to spare on himself...
He will sort of. Roll his hips forward on occasion, sometimes to meet his, primarily so he can rub his dick against Takasugi's stomach. It isn't much, but any friction is good friction....]