To start, [echoed with amusement and a little bit of awe.] Just remember not all of us have super stamina here. [He doesn't actually know if Steve's enhancements translate to a longer time in bed, but he'll find out and soak up every fucking second of it for as long as he can hold out. (And then some.)]
Shit, it doesn't feel like it's been a while for you. [That's the praise he's getting, Clint just barely squirming under the attention. If there were nerves at the start of all this for Steve, there sure aren't now, at least not that he can tell from the way he licks, bites, sucks his way along skin like he's a god damn expert. He moves easily however Steve wants him, as bent or wide or over shoulders or anywhere that lets the captain get his mouth wherever he'd like.
It's the pair of marks sucked until they're enough to last that get him a little more vocal, a brief whine, somewhere tucked into that good spot between pain and pleasure. Makes the hand lightly gripped at the back of Steve's head tense, a little dig of nail. Steve's always been a quick study. Of course it'd translate to everything else, including other people.
The question is pretty clearly rhetorical, but Clint's never been one to shy away from being mouthy.] Good, real good, I might even say great, I--fuck! [He's got just enough leverage to watch, and what a god damn sight it is. And however good it looks, it feels even better, the curse practically punched out of him. No hesitation, not even a teasing warmup, just going for it with that light hum that vibrates right to his core.
For emphasis:] Fuck. [In case the effect of a hot mouth swallowing him whole wasn't perfectly clear.] Yes please, we are so good.
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Shit, it doesn't feel like it's been a while for you. [That's the praise he's getting, Clint just barely squirming under the attention. If there were nerves at the start of all this for Steve, there sure aren't now, at least not that he can tell from the way he licks, bites, sucks his way along skin like he's a god damn expert. He moves easily however Steve wants him, as bent or wide or over shoulders or anywhere that lets the captain get his mouth wherever he'd like.
It's the pair of marks sucked until they're enough to last that get him a little more vocal, a brief whine, somewhere tucked into that good spot between pain and pleasure. Makes the hand lightly gripped at the back of Steve's head tense, a little dig of nail. Steve's always been a quick study. Of course it'd translate to everything else, including other people.
The question is pretty clearly rhetorical, but Clint's never been one to shy away from being mouthy.] Good, real good, I might even say great, I--fuck! [He's got just enough leverage to watch, and what a god damn sight it is. And however good it looks, it feels even better, the curse practically punched out of him. No hesitation, not even a teasing warmup, just going for it with that light hum that vibrates right to his core.
For emphasis:] Fuck. [In case the effect of a hot mouth swallowing him whole wasn't perfectly clear.] Yes please, we are so good.