[ Jaskier is a tall, well built man, and yet when he sits just like so, in the Witcher's lap, it's as if he weighs nothing at all, it's like he's the missing part to Geralt's jigsaw. A perfect fit. Much like how his cock grows effortlessly in those skilled hands. Straightening his back and grunted out a sound of approval. ]
Poetry to my ears.
[ The White Wolf gave a shiver as Jaskier whispered his name in his ear like that. Slipping his hands around to rest upon the Bard's rear, squeezing the handfuls, using them as leverage as he pressed his hips forward, causing that thick cock of his to grind between those hands. Geralt nudged Jaskier's cheek with his nose, open mouthed as he sighed against Jaskier's cheek. ]
...Lift up.
[ Giving that firm little backside a tap with his hand, playful yet demanding before whispering; ]
no subject
Poetry to my ears.
[ The White Wolf gave a shiver as Jaskier whispered his name in his ear like that. Slipping his hands around to rest upon the Bard's rear, squeezing the handfuls, using them as leverage as he pressed his hips forward, causing that thick cock of his to grind between those hands. Geralt nudged Jaskier's cheek with his nose, open mouthed as he sighed against Jaskier's cheek. ]
...Lift up.
[ Giving that firm little backside a tap with his hand, playful yet demanding before whispering; ]
...And tell me more.