grandhighwizard

Slowly, Rhys's finger circled the head of the younger man's cock, lazy circles that spiraled from the slit to the crown and then back up. Each touch was light, teasing, and then the Potions professor pressed the very tip of his finger against the slit once more, pushing just inside it - not far, no more than a millimeter or two would fit - but enough to be felt. And then his hand was gone, his palm and fingers smoothing over the concave plane of Cy's stomach, up his chest, then down his thighs. The older man's big hands swept over bare skin, stimulating, dancing lightly, learning the smaller man's body in brushes of his hands.