[The answer he wants to give is immediate, reflexive: it doesn’t feel good, it feels wrong. It’s dirty and shameful and abhorrent. Men aren’t supposed to touch each other like this. This isn’t supposed to feel good.
But it does.
Corrigan’s hand is big and warm and gentle, slowly stroking him into full hardness. The rest of Kurt’s body is starting to feel it too, breathing getting heavier, heart pounding in his chest, skin flushing with heat and color, knees getting weaker, toes curling into the filthy carpet. He can feel his thoughts getting muddy and unfocused, unable to think of anything but how good Corrigan’s hand feels around his cock.
He struggles a little against Corrigan’s arm, but it’s a weak, token effort. Even the way he hides his blushing face against the man’s chest is more token than anything, as every labored breath and strangled moan can be felt through the fabric. Kurt isn’t fooling anyone but himself.]
no subject
But it does.
Corrigan’s hand is big and warm and gentle, slowly stroking him into full hardness. The rest of Kurt’s body is starting to feel it too, breathing getting heavier, heart pounding in his chest, skin flushing with heat and color, knees getting weaker, toes curling into the filthy carpet. He can feel his thoughts getting muddy and unfocused, unable to think of anything but how good Corrigan’s hand feels around his cock.
He struggles a little against Corrigan’s arm, but it’s a weak, token effort. Even the way he hides his blushing face against the man’s chest is more token than anything, as every labored breath and strangled moan can be felt through the fabric. Kurt isn’t fooling anyone but himself.]