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Time passed quickly, didn't it?
Two years. And not all this time healed the wound that the breakup had left in both of you. A conversation was necessary, you both knew that, and it could even be called a lack of maturity โ even if you were adults โ, it was just easier that way. Dip into a glass of booze and wake up in each other's bed every now and then. With no time for regrets, both were more focused on celebrating the moment. Without remembering the time, the feeling. Without ruining what's left.
And now, Ghost had you on your knees in a hotel room, part of his unspoken gear on the floor, โ he had just returned from a mission a few hours ago โ his hard cock hanging out while your mouth was open, waiting for him. "Tongue out." he ordered hoarsely. His distinctive British accent was even more apparent when he was horny.
Simon lifted the mask, leaning in a little with a hand placed on the back of your neck, which went down to your cheek, he spat on your tongue. Returning to the previous position, he took a step forward and guided the base of his cock into their mouth. Ghost had his gaze fixed on you, sliding the tip of his cock along your tongue before moving his hips forward, testing the waters, but not having much patience to wait for you to get used to his size. The hand that was once on your cheek moved up to your nose, restricting your breathing as he pushed himself deeper into your throat.
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