Even those few words knocked the sense out of him. Viggo liked to hear him beg - he believed it. He believed it, even more so when Sean's word was echoed back at him, the 'please', with all its thick description, with its soft growl, spoken quick and harsh and breathless, and Sean knew that Viggo too was stroking himself, finding a steady rhythm that did nothing more or less but deepen the huskiness of Viggo's already overwhelming voice.
Sean didn't push in one more finger - he forced in the two remaining fingers of his right hand, twisted his hand in further, past his knuckles until the full width of his hand was inside, stroking his prostrate steadily. The other hand had slid away, and was creeping up, curling firmly around his erection to stroke in time with each thrust. And he was slow - so steady, slow - taking his time over it, stretching it out.
He moaned, because Viggo was calling Christian's name now, moaning out loud, begging for Christian to make him come, and silencing any sounds of begging that Sean would have made because he didn't have room for them. He listened to Viggo beg, and wailed against the sound, and then there was a heavy crash inside the apartment, and Sean let out a loud yelp.
The phone went off his stomach, his hand ripped out of his ass with enough speed to knock the breath out of him, and his hands flew to the bed, pushing himself up in horror, shoving the pillow down between his legs.
Inherently he knew that Christian was the only one in the apartment, but that didn't stop the shock, taking those preemptive measures. He was for a moment terrified, and pushed his hands down, pushed himself up to sit, and stared at Christian where he knelt in the doorway.
"Jesus fuck."
He pulled himself forward, reaching for the phone with his filthy hand, bringing it up toward his face despite the fact that the speakerphone was still on.
"Jesus. Viggo... Viggo, he's here. Christian..." He lowered his hand a little, because he realised what a fool he was being. The speakerphone was on, and Christian had a phone to his ear, and Sean wet his lips, wiped his hand across them and tasted Christian's come there.
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Sean didn't push in one more finger - he forced in the two remaining fingers of his right hand, twisted his hand in further, past his knuckles until the full width of his hand was inside, stroking his prostrate steadily. The other hand had slid away, and was creeping up, curling firmly around his erection to stroke in time with each thrust. And he was slow - so steady, slow - taking his time over it, stretching it out.
He moaned, because Viggo was calling Christian's name now, moaning out loud, begging for Christian to make him come, and silencing any sounds of begging that Sean would have made because he didn't have room for them. He listened to Viggo beg, and wailed against the sound, and then there was a heavy crash inside the apartment, and Sean let out a loud yelp.
The phone went off his stomach, his hand ripped out of his ass with enough speed to knock the breath out of him, and his hands flew to the bed, pushing himself up in horror, shoving the pillow down between his legs.
Inherently he knew that Christian was the only one in the apartment, but that didn't stop the shock, taking those preemptive measures. He was for a moment terrified, and pushed his hands down, pushed himself up to sit, and stared at Christian where he knelt in the doorway.
"Jesus fuck."
He pulled himself forward, reaching for the phone with his filthy hand, bringing it up toward his face despite the fact that the speakerphone was still on.
"Jesus. Viggo... Viggo, he's here. Christian..." He lowered his hand a little, because he realised what a fool he was being. The speakerphone was on, and Christian had a phone to his ear, and Sean wet his lips, wiped his hand across them and tasted Christian's come there.
"Viggo. Tell me what to do."