The Winter Soldier immediately sags against the chair soon as Rumlow removes his boot, a ragged breath of relief shuddering up his whole body.
He's still recovering with his thighs vainly trying press together to protect his aching cock and balls when Rumlow poses the next question. Head drooping, his wild hair hanging in his face in a limp curtain, the Soldier sucks in a shaking breath, tries to steady it, and then he forces himself to look up because Rumlow's made it clear he wants him looking him dead in the eyes when he answers.
"Yes," the Soldier replies quickly, without having to think about it. It's the easiest thing his handler asked him to do today.
And maybe Rumlow agrees, he realizes with a dull feeling that doesn't dare to be hope, because the man's working his fatigues and underwear down to reveal the flex of muscle in his thighs, the same ones he'd been up close to when he'd knelt in front of him in the shower and he'd wrapped his lips around the heat of his waiting cock. That same cock's now in Rumlow's hand, hard and jutting, and the Soldier can feel his dry mouth starting to moisten again with saliva in some sort of instinctive response.
Rumlow said he's a good pet. He's got his dick out. Maybe he'll find his answer to his liking and it'll just be him instead of the whole base. With this in mind, the Soldier forces his cum-splattered thighs to spread, to give his handler better access as best he can when he's restrained to the suppression chair and his ability to display his body is limited.
no subject
He's still recovering with his thighs vainly trying press together to protect his aching cock and balls when Rumlow poses the next question. Head drooping, his wild hair hanging in his face in a limp curtain, the Soldier sucks in a shaking breath, tries to steady it, and then he forces himself to look up because Rumlow's made it clear he wants him looking him dead in the eyes when he answers.
"Yes," the Soldier replies quickly, without having to think about it. It's the easiest thing his handler asked him to do today.
And maybe Rumlow agrees, he realizes with a dull feeling that doesn't dare to be hope, because the man's working his fatigues and underwear down to reveal the flex of muscle in his thighs, the same ones he'd been up close to when he'd knelt in front of him in the shower and he'd wrapped his lips around the heat of his waiting cock. That same cock's now in Rumlow's hand, hard and jutting, and the Soldier can feel his dry mouth starting to moisten again with saliva in some sort of instinctive response.
Rumlow said he's a good pet. He's got his dick out. Maybe he'll find his answer to his liking and it'll just be him instead of the whole base. With this in mind, the Soldier forces his cum-splattered thighs to spread, to give his handler better access as best he can when he's restrained to the suppression chair and his ability to display his body is limited.