Bobby groaned, half-wishing he had a free hand so he could rub his own hard cock through his pants, but he would just have to be content to wait, and in the meantime the sounds he was inspiring from John were their own kind of exquisite torture, each sending a surge of heat through him.

The offer to fuck him, broken by gasps and moans, was tempting, but Bobby gave a little shake of his head and redoubled his efforts. No, he wanted to make John come just like this, at least this time, and that was made pretty clear without him stopping to utter a single word, simply in the single-minded focus he was putting into the task at hand (and at tongue).