champagne, cocaine, gasoline; and most things in between
"I would, but I assure you I can do much more interesting things with my mouth," Mateo replies automatically, and if Thorn wants him to form the words of the travelling tongue around the head of his cock, the botanist will happily comply. For now, though, they need to get moving, and it's down a short corridor and into a small lounge area that Mateo leads them.
He doesn't pin the other man against the wall, per say, but there is a conveniently placed table that he backs him up against, intending for him to sit so Mateo might stand between his legs. "Cozy enough?" he wonders, because if the courtesan wants, he's sure there's a supply cupboard or two that would make an even more intimate spot for this.
Not that Mateo gives him much of a chance to respond, because he's already leaning in for another hungry kiss, hands pressing against the top of the other man's thighs.
He doesn't pin the other man against the wall, per say, but there is a conveniently placed table that he backs him up against, intending for him to sit so Mateo might stand between his legs. "Cozy enough?" he wonders, because if the courtesan wants, he's sure there's a supply cupboard or two that would make an even more intimate spot for this.
Not that Mateo gives him much of a chance to respond, because he's already leaning in for another hungry kiss, hands pressing against the top of the other man's thighs.
