wishresign
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“M’sorry.” His voice is raw and Till’s hardly touched him, not in comparison to what they’ve done before. “M’sorry, sorry, just… before they come back. Wanna — fuck, wanna — want to cum.”
Till’s lips twitch.
“So fucking demanding. Mister Quarterback is scared, is he? Worried you’ll get caught? That everyone will see how big of a slut for a loser’s cock you are?”
He’s powerful here. In these moments, just the two of them, he rules.
No fucking hierarchy except for the one he’s created.