cotton, wind, blow, blouse

[canicide]

[ Nill introduced him to the agency, promising him that it wouldn't be a bad experience to just go in and talk to the guy. Apparently he trains some of the dogs himself, which is why there are so few to choose from, but even if it didn't work out on his first visit he'd help him in the long run. With Nill's experience in the field, Heine trusts her word.

That doesn't mean he isn't stressed about it. After years of coping with his problems by himself, asking for help or admitting he needs it at all throws of the precarious routine he maintains most days.

The appointment he makes is later in the morning to avoid crowds on their way to work. When he arrives he's not sure where to go and ends up waiting in the reception area, standing by an empty desk with his hands in his pockets. ]

Comments

[canicide]

[ Heine allows himself to be pulled down, letting Eames lead the kiss and only nipping his lower lip when they part and Eames yells. Still panting hard, Heine lets out a low laugh as he slows his thrusts—and then finishes with one more hard thrust, climaxing inside of Eames and squeezing his sides hard. ]

Mm. [ Fuck, that was good. Heine bends down and kisses his neck, mouthing idly at his skin, biting a couple of marks. He lingers right at his throat and mumbles, not without humor, ] Good boy.

[embellishing]

[It must be the bone meltingly good orgasm he was given that Eames found himself laughing at that praise, tilting his neck to give Heine better access. Satisfied, he ran his hands along Heine's back, catching his breath.]

It's worrisome how hot that is. There might definitely be some merit to the collar idea.

[canicide]

Maybe next time.

[ With a quiet snicker, Heine gets off of him, ties off his condom, and goes to the spot on his nightstand where the tissue box is. ]

Clean yourself up first.