Neal looked about a breath away from crying the entire meal. Eyes tight, lips pressed together, pleading with Peter as much as he could without saying anything. He'd have to do this more often.
He used the vibrate function sparingly. Just when Neal was lifting his wine glass to his lips, or smiling at the waitress, or relaxing too much. By the time they finished their entrees, he was trembling. Peter ordered a slice of cheesecake and decided on the red.
"Pull the tablecloth over your lap," he said quietly after the waitress left. "Then keep your hands on the table. Sit back in your seat and spread your legs."
After Neal did as he asked Peter lifted his foot, rested it on the edge of Neal's seat, and pressed the sole of his shoe agaisnt Neal's cock. Neal hunched over the table and Peter pressed harder, increasing the pressure until Neal let out a small, helpless sound. Until he was sure it hurt as much as it gave pleasure.
It was late, and by then the surrounding tables were mostly empty. A small family and an old couple were the only ones who were close enough to see the way Neal started rubbing himself off against Peter's shoe. The sweat that dripped down his temple, the pain in his expression. "Tell me what it feels like," he said, honestly curious.
When Neal slowly lifted his head and looked at him, Peter's breath caught in his throat. He looked - he looked broken open, pressed to his limits and beyond, helpless to hide his feelings and hating it and desperate. He opened his mouth to answer and Peter turned up the vibrator as high as it would go.
Neal sobbed, loud enough that people turned to stare, and Peter came. He wasn't touching himself, hadn't meant to come, but Neal had sobbed and pressed his cock even harder against Peter's foot and hadn't for a second lost eye contact. He left the vibrator on as he rode the aftershocks, semen spreading in his boxers.
"We're leaving," he ordered when he caught his breath, pulling his wallet out and pulling out enough cash to leave a very sizable tip. He held his coat in front of his groin and pulled Neal up too quickly. He let out another groan, utterly failing to stifle it in Peter's shoulder. He had to practically carry him. Neal might have been able to support more of his own weight if Peter turned the vibrator off - but he was't feeling particularly generous. "Not been feeling well," Peter explained to the old couple who'd been staring at them. "I'm taking him home."
"Did you - did you come?" Neal gasped when they were both back in the car.
"Yes," Peter said. "And if you want to come at all tonight, you're going to have to do it before we get back to the apartment. Only one catch - " Neal growled at him. "You're not allowed to touch yourself."
*
(...I think this is actually the end. BWAHAHAHA!)
katikat - thank you SO MUCH for the prompt! *loves on you*
no subject
He used the vibrate function sparingly. Just when Neal was lifting his wine glass to his lips, or smiling at the waitress, or relaxing too much. By the time they finished their entrees, he was trembling. Peter ordered a slice of cheesecake and decided on the red.
"Pull the tablecloth over your lap," he said quietly after the waitress left. "Then keep your hands on the table. Sit back in your seat and spread your legs."
After Neal did as he asked Peter lifted his foot, rested it on the edge of Neal's seat, and pressed the sole of his shoe agaisnt Neal's cock. Neal hunched over the table and Peter pressed harder, increasing the pressure until Neal let out a small, helpless sound. Until he was sure it hurt as much as it gave pleasure.
It was late, and by then the surrounding tables were mostly empty. A small family and an old couple were the only ones who were close enough to see the way Neal started rubbing himself off against Peter's shoe. The sweat that dripped down his temple, the pain in his expression. "Tell me what it feels like," he said, honestly curious.
When Neal slowly lifted his head and looked at him, Peter's breath caught in his throat. He looked - he looked broken open, pressed to his limits and beyond, helpless to hide his feelings and hating it and desperate. He opened his mouth to answer and Peter turned up the vibrator as high as it would go.
Neal sobbed, loud enough that people turned to stare, and Peter came. He wasn't touching himself, hadn't meant to come, but Neal had sobbed and pressed his cock even harder against Peter's foot and hadn't for a second lost eye contact. He left the vibrator on as he rode the aftershocks, semen spreading in his boxers.
"We're leaving," he ordered when he caught his breath, pulling his wallet out and pulling out enough cash to leave a very sizable tip. He held his coat in front of his groin and pulled Neal up too quickly. He let out another groan, utterly failing to stifle it in Peter's shoulder. He had to practically carry him. Neal might have been able to support more of his own weight if Peter turned the vibrator off - but he was't feeling particularly generous. "Not been feeling well," Peter explained to the old couple who'd been staring at them. "I'm taking him home."
"Did you - did you come?" Neal gasped when they were both back in the car.
"Yes," Peter said. "And if you want to come at all tonight, you're going to have to do it before we get back to the apartment. Only one catch - " Neal growled at him. "You're not allowed to touch yourself."
*
(...I think this is actually the end. BWAHAHAHA!)