NHL 43

Dylan merely tickled the area in front of the intimate entrance before pressing firmly on the soft perineum that leads to the scrotum. Then, he put the tender flesh of the inner thigh below it into his grasp and pinched it lightly. His soap-foamed hand kept slipping over it. Every time that happened, Joeon bit his finger to suppress the strange, illicit sounds spilling from his mouth.

“Put your legs together and push your hips back.”

Joeon did as Dylan whispered, bringing his legs together and then bending his upper body forward. With a slap sound, a palm flew onto his buttocks. When he startled and turned his head back, Dylan—his expression drained of all laughter—wrapped an arm around Joeon’s lower abdomen to pull him upward, giving him a calm look as if to ask why he was acting like that. It was as if a personality completely different from the usually affectionate Dylan was shining through.

Perhaps because he was bent over, there was a significant height difference between the standing Dylan and Joeon. With his already tall stature, the emotionless expression of Dylan looking down at the person beneath him created an overbearing atmosphere.

Every time Dylan’s palm, which was wrapped around Joeon’s lower abdomen, occasionally brushed against his sex, a thrill pulsed between his thighs. At the same time, a creeping fear and anxiety mingled together. Joeon leaned his forehead against the wall and bit down on his lower lip.

“Lift your hips properly.”

With another slap, a palm flew onto his buttocks once more. It was only loud; it didn’t hurt. Yet, for some reason, Joeon felt a sense of unfairness and knitted his brows. He was already on tiptoes to match Dylan’s height.

“Why do you keep… hitting me…”

“Why? You said I could do whatever I wanted, didn’t you?”

“…That’s true, but I didn’t mean it like this.”

“Well, you should have been careful with what you said. So, do you want to take it back?”

For some reason, Joeon clamped his mouth shut at that question and remained silent.

“Stick your hips out properly.”

Instead of bending his knees to match Joeon’s height, Dylan—as if dissatisfied—kept pulling Joeon upward until he made him step onto his own feet.

“Wait, I’m, I’m slipping.”

“Get into position properly. Keep your legs together.”

Somehow feeling a sense of stubbornness, Joeon gritted his teeth and held the pose he wanted. A hard column soon pushed its head between his tightly pressed thighs.

His thighs, lacking anything that could truly be called muscle, were wrapped in soft flesh, so they enveloped Dylan’s sex just like the inner flesh of an intimate place. Dylan inhaled and suppressed a groan at the pleasure of the moment he forced his way through the pressed-together skin. It was difficult to keep his senses intact with just his thighs alone.

Perhaps because his sensitivity was heightened by the slippery foam, he was certain that if things continued this way, he would end up ejaculating ungracefully after only a few movements, like a teenage boy masturbating for the first time. The thought of his thighs being so obscenely soiled that he couldn’t distinguish between soap bubbles and semen bubbles sent a chill down his spine.

Dylan, while holding Joeon from behind, gnawed and sucked at his slender neck. The moment he overheard Joeon’s groaning—as he suppressed his own moans in his throat just like him—his ejaculation felt so close that his toes twitched involuntarily.

“Haa, does it feel good? Hmm?”

Dylan, who had slowly pulled his sex back, dug into his thighs again, thrusting his hips upward and pushing Joeon away with a different strength than before.

“Ah!”

Joeon hurriedly covered his mouth with the back of his hand, but Dylan, having increased the speed, seemed to have no intention of going easy on him anymore. He wasn’t pleased with the covering up of such pleasant sounds.

“Make some noise.”

Eventually, Dylan wrapped his arms around Joeon’s neck to pull his upper body upright and moved his hips violently while binding his torso so Joeon’s hands couldn’t block his mouth.

“Ugh, hnn, ah! Mmm, ugh!”

“Don’t hold it back; let me hear it all. Because I want to listen.”

“I-I don’t… Hnn, ugh! It echoes, I don’t, mmm.”

Joeon tilted his head back, desperately seeking Dylan’s lips. He thought mixing their breath would be much better than making such strange, raw noises. Dylan moved his tongue and secretly lowered the hand that had been wrapped around Joeon’s lower abdomen. He grasped and shook both his own sex, which had protruded through the thighs, and Joeon’s white, straight member, which was crushed underneath it, with one hand.

“Ah, hnn, ugh!”

“Haa, put some strength in your legs and stand properly.”

“Ah, ugh, hand, mmm, the hand… Ah, wait, mmm!”

Perhaps the hot, rough hand was too stimulating, but Joeon couldn’t hold out much longer; he stiffened his waist and ejaculated. The moment his rigid thighs tightened around his sex, Dylan moved his hand urgently, tightening and stimulating the pink-flushed glans. He soon spewed out thick, turbid semen while cursing.

Rough breathing, as if they had finished a major athletic feat, became entangled. Dylan stared at the two types of semen decorating the tiles and rubbed his lips against Joeon’s temple.

“Do you know that? Your voice is truly erotic. It makes me want to hear even more.”

He had thought it ended with the ejaculation, but his partner seemed to have no intention of finishing here. When Joeon blinked and turned to look at him, his dark-tinted eyes sparkled greedily.

“I’m dying of curiosity about what kind of sounds you’ll make if I drive you all night long.”

Before he could even prepare himself, a finger suddenly invaded the tightly closed entrance. Joeon’s eyes widened.

“W-wait a minute. A moment ago, you clearly…”

“Why? You said earlier that I could do whatever I wanted.”

“…I did say that, but.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you. I’ll loosen you up a little. Do you not trust me?”

“That’s not it…”

It was difficult to resist Dylan’s voice, which was tinged with disappointment. Joeon, who had been quietly rolling his eyes, eventually gave up on arguing and shut his mouth.

While he cooled one of his flushed, hot cheeks against the tile, Dylan blocked the pouring lukewarm water with his broad back and pressed Joeon’s shoulders against the wall. Every time he nibbled on the outer ear with his lips, his steam-like whispers made Joeon’s mind go blank.

“Damn it, I’m joking. If you hated it, I wouldn’t do it.”

“…No, I was just startled; it’s not that I hate it.”

“You’re stubborn, Joeon.”

The fingers that had been carefully searching around the hole had already entered Joeon’s body up to the third knuckle, softly exploring the bumpy inner wall.

“Hnn!”

More than anything, the most stimulating thing was not the fingers touching the inner wall, but Dylan’s hard fingers and knuckles pressing against the opening of the hole. It was only one now, but just imagining the situation where they would all be inside made his skin ache.

“…Ugh, hnn.”

The moment Dylan turned his inserted finger in a circle, Joeon hurriedly covered his mouth for fear of making a strange noise. Then, a hand immediately followed to restrain him.

“Do you like it here? I’ll touch you more. Instead, give me your hands. We decided you’d let me hear your voice, didn’t we? Hmm?”

“When did I?”

Did they have such a promise? No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t remember. Joeon tilted his head but obediently entrusted his hands to Dylan. The hands Dylan took were tightly bound between his fingers, unable to budge. The interlaced fingers stuck together without a single gap. His palms were hot.

“Mmm, it seems you like it here. Right? You like it when I press here, don’t you?”

“Hnn, haa. Yes…”

“The inside is really narrow and hot. It feels like my fingers are going to melt.”

“Ah!”

Dylan pressed firmly with his fingertips against the blunt, protruding part. The more he applied force, the more Joeon’s legs trembled. His white, straight sex, which had begun to get erect again, staggered while dripping sticky, transparent fluid.

“Stop, it’s strange. If you press that hard… Ah!”

When Dylan pulled his hand back and then pushed it in forcefully to poke at the protruding part, Joeon, his legs losing strength, collapsed. Dylan grabbed him to pull him back up by force and hurriedly added another finger.

“Ah, no, it, it will tear.”

“It’s fine. Only two have gone in.”

“Your fingers are too big, and too thick.”