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Brian arches his back, eyes fluttering closed, breathing heavily through his mouth, every thought concentrated on Justin�s full lips wrapped around his dick, warm and wet, Justin�s strong fingers wrapped loosely around the base of his cock. He raises his hips, pumps a little, needs more� and then the sensation is gone, rush of cool air and� what the fuck?
�So. I�ve been thinking.� Brian struggles to focus, scowling down at Justin�s upturned smiling -- fucking smiling -- face. �Don�t think. Who said you could think? Suck.� Justin ignores him completely, shifting to rest his chin on Brian�s stomach. �I�m pretty sure I want a kid.� Brian lets his head drop down to the pillow. �When �pretty sure� becomes �emphatically and absolutely�, we�ll have this discussion. Now, suck.� �I�m just preparing you for the debate to come.� �Don�t talk about come if you�re not going to finish what you started,� Brian grouses. �Fuck. You�re twenty-two. We�ll have this conversation when you�re thirty. And then when you knock up some lesbian and lose your shit, I�ll show up and pull you off the ledge of the fucking hospital, and--� Brian forgets what he�s saying when Justin�s lips wrap around him again. |
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