Oh, isn't that groan pure music? Geralt may not be as talkative or loud as he is, but he reacts so beautifully to his every move, his every touch. The witcher is still keeping some of his usual control, of course, Jaskier can tell - but that thrust of his hips, that cursing, that way of grabbing his waist... oh, he's slowly losing it, alright, and Jaskier won't stop until he undoes his lover completely.
Geralt is already doing it to him, after all - fuck, does Jaskier love to feel the witcher's strength digging into his skin, and it isn't even all of his mighty power.
"You want your bard to give you a show, don't you, my wolf?" Chuckling at the ride pun, he pecks Geralt's lips before sitting up. "Then a show you get."
Some more oil is applied because indeed, Geralt is not small. And while Jaskier has been wanting this prick inside him for two decades now, he isn't (that) dumb to try to impale himself on it without care and proper lubrication. There's no teasing this time, though - Jaskier quickly takes care of it before raising on his knees and guiding Geralt's cock to his asshole.
He takes a deep breath as the head breaches him, which isn't so bad, even if it's been a while - some things your body doesn't forget. Taking a little more is when the challenge begins. Geralt isn't just long, he's also very thick, thicker than three fingers. Jaskier bites his lips so his whimper isn't very noticeable and closes his eyes as he slowly lowers himself, only taking a couple of inches at the time and pausing in between them to breathe and make his body relax, because he's on fucking fire from head to toes. It stings just a little bit, but it's slowly going away, and even that small burn feels so fucking good. He pants and curses during the whole process, singing Geralt's name as well - never before he's felt so stretched, so full...
So connected.
His hands fall on Geralt's stomach, nails digging as he drags out a groan and he finally bottoms out. Blue eyes are opened then, messy bangs hanging above them and dropping a couple of sweat drops on the witcher's abs and Jaskier's own erection, which also sits on the witcher's abs now, dropping pre-cum on those firm muscles.
"Fuck, Geralt. When I wrote third sword I was selling you short." Grinning, he pokes Geralt's side. "Come up here and kiss me, my dear. I want you to look me in the eye while I ride you into oblivion."
Not a lie, but with how big Geralt is, he could also do with having those broad shoulders to hold onto as he does his bouncing.
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Geralt is already doing it to him, after all - fuck, does Jaskier love to feel the witcher's strength digging into his skin, and it isn't even all of his mighty power.
"You want your bard to give you a show, don't you, my wolf?" Chuckling at the ride pun, he pecks Geralt's lips before sitting up. "Then a show you get."
Some more oil is applied because indeed, Geralt is not small. And while Jaskier has been wanting this prick inside him for two decades now, he isn't (that) dumb to try to impale himself on it without care and proper lubrication. There's no teasing this time, though - Jaskier quickly takes care of it before raising on his knees and guiding Geralt's cock to his asshole.
He takes a deep breath as the head breaches him, which isn't so bad, even if it's been a while - some things your body doesn't forget. Taking a little more is when the challenge begins. Geralt isn't just long, he's also very thick, thicker than three fingers. Jaskier bites his lips so his whimper isn't very noticeable and closes his eyes as he slowly lowers himself, only taking a couple of inches at the time and pausing in between them to breathe and make his body relax, because he's on fucking fire from head to toes. It stings just a little bit, but it's slowly going away, and even that small burn feels so fucking good. He pants and curses during the whole process, singing Geralt's name as well - never before he's felt so stretched, so full...
So connected.
His hands fall on Geralt's stomach, nails digging as he drags out a groan and he finally bottoms out. Blue eyes are opened then, messy bangs hanging above them and dropping a couple of sweat drops on the witcher's abs and Jaskier's own erection, which also sits on the witcher's abs now, dropping pre-cum on those firm muscles.
"Fuck, Geralt. When I wrote third sword I was selling you short." Grinning, he pokes Geralt's side. "Come up here and kiss me, my dear. I want you to look me in the eye while I ride you into oblivion."
Not a lie, but with how big Geralt is, he could also do with having those broad shoulders to hold onto as he does his bouncing.