It took a while--too long, longer than House ever wanted to wait now--for Foreman to relax enough for House to keep going. His breathing sped up, arousal driving him to want to move his finger faster. Slow, Foreman said. Had to go slow. He let himself focus on the heat of Foreman's mouth over his jaw, by his ear, the weight of him. He didn't doubt now that this was going to feel good, but, feeling Foreman's body like this, pressing him down even as Foreman was pushing back, fucking his damn finger, made House want to ditch the plan and get Foreman to fuck him instead. Foreman's next little encouragement helped him refocus, made his arousal flare up even higher, his erection starting to strain.
House was careful, still going slow as he rubbed inside, searching out Foreman's prostate. It didn't take long to find; House may not have done this for a long time, but he'd done enough exams to remember the technicalities. He reached farther in, curling his finger, and stroked, just once, wanting to absorb Foreman's reaction. Give him just enough and pull back, wait to slick up another finger and make Foreman want more. He wanted to see Foreman start to lose it, want it, push back against him, and mumble in his ear. God, he wanted to see it. Foreman with no control left. Wanted to see what that looked like and sounded like before he let go himself. He was already letting go, just a little, enough that he was probably letting Foreman know how turned on he was.
"Yeah? Like that?" House asked, rubbing again over Foreman's prostate as he pushed his hips up, pressing his dick against Foreman's body. Jesus, it only made it worse, made him ache for real contact. He slid his hand down from Foreman's neck, over his back, and squeezed his ass, touching in more places, distracting himself. "You want more?" House rubbed over Foreman's prostate one more time, all about the encouragement. "I'm not going to give it to you until you tell me." There was a practicality to it that wasn't lost on House, and he was serious, but he meant Foreman to hear it as almost a tease, House's lips moving against Foreman's neck, voice deep and slow as House worked his finger deeper, opening Foreman up even more.
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House was careful, still going slow as he rubbed inside, searching out Foreman's prostate. It didn't take long to find; House may not have done this for a long time, but he'd done enough exams to remember the technicalities. He reached farther in, curling his finger, and stroked, just once, wanting to absorb Foreman's reaction. Give him just enough and pull back, wait to slick up another finger and make Foreman want more. He wanted to see Foreman start to lose it, want it, push back against him, and mumble in his ear. God, he wanted to see it. Foreman with no control left. Wanted to see what that looked like and sounded like before he let go himself. He was already letting go, just a little, enough that he was probably letting Foreman know how turned on he was.
"Yeah? Like that?" House asked, rubbing again over Foreman's prostate as he pushed his hips up, pressing his dick against Foreman's body. Jesus, it only made it worse, made him ache for real contact. He slid his hand down from Foreman's neck, over his back, and squeezed his ass, touching in more places, distracting himself. "You want more?" House rubbed over Foreman's prostate one more time, all about the encouragement. "I'm not going to give it to you until you tell me." There was a practicality to it that wasn't lost on House, and he was serious, but he meant Foreman to hear it as almost a tease, House's lips moving against Foreman's neck, voice deep and slow as House worked his finger deeper, opening Foreman up even more.