Jonathan Sims

Martin barely has time to catch his breath before John, smiling and self-satisfied, does it again, slower and steadier this time, an exquisitely gentle motion that nonetheless hits him with electric force. He moans heavily, the sound somewhat strained behind a clenched jaw, followed immediately by a quick, sharp gasp as John pinches and pulls at his other nipple.

"Christ," he says breathlessly, his whole body twitching once again with the effort of holding still, now feeling a bit like holding onto John is all that's keeping him together. He isn't sure how much more of this he'll be able to take; he just hopes he can last a little while longer. His next plea is scarcely more than a whisper: "Please don't stop."