"So do I…?" Kurt asks unsurely, spreading Blaine’s legs and lowering himself between them until he’s face-level with the parted, swollen pink of Blaine’s labia, of the tempting slick skin of his entrance and the dark swell of his clit. Blaine’s so wet already, damp and shining in the light, and as Kurt watches he can see the clench of Blaine’s entrance, see more fluid build up, and—"God," Kurt breathes in awe, running a trembling finger down the divide of Blaine’s pussy, passing featherlight over his center. "I didn’t think you could get any wetter." He wants to taste so badly he’s aching with it, trembling and tingling from the tips of his fingers to his toes.

Blaine moans, low, and threads his fingers through Kurt’s hair, gently easing him down until his mouth is scant centimeters above the stiff flesh of his clit. “You’re doing great, Kurt. Just lick,” Blaine says. His voice is rough, splintered, and Kurt looks up, watches Blaine watching him watching Blaine, like a loop, and keeps that eye contact as he lets his head be guided down until the swell of his lips are brushing Blaine’s hot, slick skin, the sweet, heady scent and taste of him on the tip of Kurt’s tongue, in his nostrils.

He drops his jaw and licks a broad line, rewarded by the arch of Blaine’s body, the tremble of his thighs as he gasps and pushes up, clenching harder into Kurt’s hair until the follicles tug and Kurt’s wincing in pain. He wiggles against the bed, jolting as his cock rubs against the sheets, and licks again, longer this time, and pauses to suck on Blaine’s folds, feeling the prickly grain of unseen hair against his tongue. He moans, then, moans and situates again to move his hand, rub his thumb over Blaine’s clit, marveling at its stiffness and the way Blaine absolutely whines when Kurt pinches lightly. “Ohhh, oh, fuck, baby, so good,” Blaine’s gasping, the bed creaking with the rocking of his body as he tries to get closer to Kurt’s mouth. “So good at this. Are you sure it’s your first time eating out a pussy?”

Kurt flushes red, closing his eyes as he slowly moves his head back and forth, tongue still dragging over Blaine, and is surprised when Blaine reacts again, writhing and pushing slightly on Kurt’s head. He’d barely had any experience with dick before Blaine had come along—handsome, older, suave Blaine with his slightly-graying hair and laugh lines and crow’s feet and the way he’d completely swept Kurt off his feet the first time they’d met. He’s still just a teenager, just a high schooler with a dismal amount of sexual experiences under his belt.

He lifts his head up enough to exhale shakily and swallow hard. He can feel the slickness on his chin, on his lips, taste the heavy taste of Blaine on his tongue, the roof of his mouth, the back of his throat. An open-mouthed kiss is pressed to Blaine’s smooth pubic mound, then a closed, wetter one over his clit, and Kurt watches Blaine’s abdomen jump in surprise, hears him moan, and already he’s trying to imagine all the other ways he can make Blaine sound like this, so utterly wanton when he’s usually so in-control.

"Mmm, yes, like that, just like that," Blaine breathes, arching languorously up. he cards his fingers through Kurt’s hair, runs the fingers of his other hand over Kurt’s cheeks. "Shit, Kurt, now suck—ohhh fuck yes, lick my pussy, sweetheart, feels so good…” His voice is growing higher in pitch, more desperate in nature, and his thighs clamp briefly around Kurt’s head before relaxing again. And still Kurt keeps moving his tongue, rolling it and flattening it and dipping it into Blaine’s entrance to feel hot muscle clamp down around it.

He can hear his breathing, stuttered and harsh, and his heart, pounding harsh in time with the throb of his cock, trapped between the bed and his body. “Oh god,” Blaine whines, tugging on Kurt’s hair as Kurt points his tongue and begins flicking relentlessly at his clit, “gonna come. Gonna come so hard all over your fucking face, I’m gon—I’m—oh fuck!”

Kurt jerks back automatically when he feels the first hot gush over his face, but Blaine holds him still while his body jerks, overridden with the force of his orgasm, and gasps out, “Drink it up, baby, c’mon, be a good boy for Daddy.”

Kurt whines, then, little and helplessly s he drops his jaw and does his best to swallow, keeping his eyes closed tight as pulse after pulse hits hi, drips from his skin to the bed, and finally, with one last wail, Blaine slumps to the bed, grip slackening on Kurt’s hair.

Kurt sits up and pushes down his boxer-briefs, taking his cock in slick hand and pumping himself roughly, shifting and moaning as his slide is lubricated by Blaine’s juices. He bites his lip, lets his eyes roam over Blaine’s splayed, naked body, the wetness over his hips and thighs.

"Daddy," he says in a small voice pinched with need. "Daddy," he says again, repeating himself for urgently this time, and only then does Blaine blink his eyes open and lift his head. The pupils are still blown, a starting black hiding honey hazel, and he props himself up on an elbow, crooking his finger and half-smiling, smirking.

"Come here, baby boy," he coos, scooting back and sitting up against the headboard, his arms held out. "Let Daddy show you how well good boys are rewarded."


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