Jack Vincent (
rockabillyboy) wrote2016-09-21 06:50 pm
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He's pretty much buried in homework. He's struggled to find his rhythm since he moved in with Poison and Dee. He's got a desk set up in their bedroom and he alternates between that one and the one out in the lounge, depending on how much he wants to focus.
Right now, focusing is difficult because Poison is having some kind of fit localised on his closet and a tonne of shopping bags.
"What're we doing again?" asks Jack, his voice just barely edged with frustration.
Right now, focusing is difficult because Poison is having some kind of fit localised on his closet and a tonne of shopping bags.
"What're we doing again?" asks Jack, his voice just barely edged with frustration.
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But he loved every second of it.
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He wakes up and lies looking at Poison for a long moment, the relaxed lines of his face. He traces the bridge of his nose beneath the blindfold with gentle fingertips.
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"How're you feeling, baby?" asks Jack, leaning down to take a kiss, his fingers brushing over the rope that's loosely knotted around Poison's wrists.
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He loves the tone of Poison's voice, the way he says it, the way this game is so clearly going to continue until he calls it. He reaches for the cock ring, discarded on the nightstand throughout the night. He flips the sheet back, sliding the ring on, making sure it's snug at the base of Poison's dick before he starts stroking him, teasing him hard.
"Bet you're dying for another load, baby."
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"Roll over," says Jack, slapping the flat of Poison's thigh. "Get your ass in the air."
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