[ Kaveh is forced to wait for the answers to come through, sitting with the toy pressed deep into his mouth and his hips rocking down against the vibrator, eyes rolling back in his head as he whines and moans his desperation. There's no acting anymore, only the frustration and need that he feels, and the ring is his saving grace, because when Tighnari highlights that message from user2.718, the arcing pleasure is enough that he thinks he might have come untouched (again) without it.
(And the highlight is followed by a few others, confirming chat's agreement to allow him orgasm, but none of them excite him in quite the same way.)
Of course, there's nothing much to actually swallow— although later, of sound mind and coming down from the excitement, he will no doubt consider buying one of those dildos with a cum tube— but he makes a show of it anyway, working his throat so his larynx bobs, pulling away from the dildo with a gasp and licking his lips. ]
Mm fuck— taste so good— thank you—
[ The words are almost babbled out as he lets the dildo fall back to the desk, lips swollen and red and panting as he reaches down to unfasten the ring and wrap his fingers around himself. Between the release of pressure and the toy buzzing furiously against his prostate, he barely gets through a single stroke before his orgasm hits, and his viewers get the scream they were promised as he spurts over himself once more, body arching and jerking weakly against the pleasure for which it's been so desperately waiting. ]
Mister E's hand squeezes at his erection when he watches the streamer arch and buck into a barely there touch. The man means what it says, thanks the idea of swallowing someone's seed, and still acts as though he's surprised he's coming so much and all over that fancy lingerie of his.
He winces and looks down. His grip had become so strong he actually hurt himself. He hisses and settles carefully on his seat. Well, that will take him off of it for a while.]
[ Kaveh reaches out to turn off the vibrator, looking at the camera through lazy, half-lidded eyes, rough breaths whooshing out over his lips as he tries to gather himself together. Slowly, chat is starting to migrate away from emojis again, back to fuller statements as his viewers see the end of their own pleasure.
(Mister E, though, hasn't changed his typing style once, and he wonders.)
Kaveh reaches for the bottle of water he has nearby, sipping from it as he closes up the stream, thanking everyone for their time— for their mora, because now that he's out of the space of his own pleasure, he remembers it, sees how large a number it is, remembers to be shocked all over again. He tells them when the next stream will be and signs off.
He should go and clean up, but something keeps in his chair for a moment longer, chewing on his lip in contemplation.
A breath, and before he can overthink it: ]
Private chat session started by PharosK.
PharosK: hey, I wanted to say thx I've nvr made so much mora on a stream b4 I know it's largely thx to u.
He still, however, sits down on his desk chair, glares at the angry stain on his joggers, and hisses at the cold as he places the ice pack wrapped with a towel on the place he unthinkingly squeezed.
He's an utter fool, what a letdown.
At least the whole thing helps with the silence. There's something to this room, when a stream ends, and how noise, whichever the type, dissipates as though it was never there in the first place. The hurt on his groin certainly grounds his mind into his own body, into his own breathing.
But then he hears a ping that he's heard before, and groans. Usually it's someone else from the chatroom, trying to either ask or scam him for money or just annoy the hell out of him by spamming threats and insults because of some sort of delusion they hold towards Pharos.
Huh, this one even has the gall to make a username like his.
Except. It's verified.
E does a double-take, and suddenly the ice is forgotten.]
user2.718: No need for thanks. You should know your audience is willing to pay that much. You did well today.
[ He probably shouldn't be quite as pleased by the praise as he is. For all intents and purposes, user2.718 is a customer, his compliment borne of feeling like his money was well spent. And yet, Kaveh can't help but smile to himself, something private and content.
(Tighnari would murder him.) ]
PharosK: u can say no need as much as u want but i'd still like to thank u properly Are u free @ this time 2moro? I thought maybe i can do a private stream if u want.
[ He finishes typing the words and sends them almost before he realizes what he's said— Once he does, he sighs, eyes closing as the color creeps up his cheeks. "If you want"? Could he have sounded any fucking needier if he tried? He can practically hear Tighnari's eyes roll, the dramatic sigh in his voice as he mutters something about Kaveh being too much of a sucker for a man who can command a room— even if it is just a chatroom.
Realizing distantly that he was so lost in his own bullshit that he never actually thanked Mister E for the compliment, he adds: ]
[Unaware of the inner struggles on Pharos' side, E's eyes widen. He frowns. He doesn't really know how to act.
This is a money grab, right? A streamer finds a particularly well-meaning fan or subscriber and decides to milk their funds until they're dry. The idea isn't farfetched, considering it may be frequent on this type of website.
Yet, something in Pharos makes him pause.
The whole stream, he had been surprised that he could even get so much money. He doubts he has the ability to ensure the revenue stays unless he really wants his audience to become a niche, much less how to pull his strings for more money.
That and, well, it's endearing.]
user2.718: You should rest.
[And he's only perusing the website, at least focusing on one person alone. He hadn't expected to be singled out, and now it gives him what he's sure is the false hope of Pharos looking at his messages specifically. Reacting to the things he types.
PharosK: I will, i will. im too tired not 2 lol. but I wanted to catch u b4 u logged out. Anyway, 2moro @ the same time then. I'll send u the room code when i start it up. u shld think abt what u want me to do for u.
[ It's not until after he sends the flurry of messages that Kaveh thinks about the fact that Mister E might see the offer as a cash grab. After all, it's not often that a streamer reaches out directly to suggest a private session; usually, they're purchased for an exorbitant price.
And yet user2.718, a man who seems to have an understanding of this world more even than he does, said yes to his invitation.
He pauses for a moment before he sends another pair of messages: ]
PharosK: just bring urself, btw, no mora the whole point of this is to thank u.
[ He feels better with that said. Reaching across, he makes sure his camera is covered before he finally starts to take down his hair, gently plucks the contacts off his retinas as he waits for the other to reply.
If he takes a moment to sit with his thoughts— something he is trying very hard not to do— he'll realize he's excited, much more than he should be for something like this.
Forget hypotheticals, Tighnari is going to murder him. ]
[He wanted to catch him before he logged out. After one of the biggest orgasms on stream.
It had been, how long? Two minutes? Less than that? The ice barely started dripping through the towel, and when he shifts his weight, the friction actually gets him to groan.
Not a money grab, just something special for him to thank him. It's true that user2.718 kickstarted the movement to get Pharos more money. But it sits strange within him. It makes his spine unfurl, his core unruly. There's something to it that makes him restless.
Particularly how Pharos could just leave him a message in his inbox, and he'd be sure to get to it later.
And yet, he wanted to catch him before he left. It feels like a rough, languid 'come back to bed'.
The cold on his lap is beginning to become painful.]
user2.718: You don't have to do something like that, you know?
PharosK: I know i don't have to but I want 2. it's not every day some1 donates over a month of rent in 1 stream not to mention how u rallied every1 else too
[ He has no way of knowing, but his answer probably doesn't help his viewer's mental image at all. He's just being honest, trying to explain why he wants to do something so out of the ordinary for someone like him.
Well, part of why, anyway. He's not about to own up to the excitement he's feeling, or the contentment curling in his stomach in response to the praise— and he's certainly not about to talk about the curiosity that has surfaced in him more than once, the wonderings about what kind of person this Mister E is.
It's almost like a crush, in a way. Although it's more of a distant one, like the type had on a celebrity he's never met—
He probably shouldn't be encouraging it, really. He's sure that user2.718 sees him the same way everyone else does, deep down: a service. Something to watch— to participate in— to get his own rocks off.
(Though explaining it in such a way takes away from a lot of Mister E's behavior, really—)
He shakes himself out of his thoughts, types one last message: ]
PharosK: neway, i need 2 clean up and get some rest i'll c u 2moro Think abt what u want! xo
[E's fingers stop at the keyboard, pressing backspace with a decided click on his keyboard and watching all of the words in the text bar being eaten one by one.
He had almost gone into a rant of how Pharos should really rest, that he did nothing but what he thought was right for the stream, but there he went and did take E's advice and left to, hopefully, have some R&R.
user2.718 leans back on his chair enough for it to creak and lets the ice pack fall on the floor. When he runs his hand over his face, it's cold enough to almost jolt him awake from the silly little butterflies he's been feeling in his chest.
'Think about what you want.'
The shape of what he wants has just disconnected. He feels embarrassed that something so impersonal like a live stream of someone doing salacious things in front of a camera would get him to want said person and wish that they'd be there in the room, discarding those silly little frills he enjoys wearing so much or at least letting E tear at them. When his fingers reach under the waistband of his lounge pants, he hisses at the cold, at how sensitive he still is, and his mind's eye decides to show him Pharos pressing his knee on his crotch (too much)—reaching to knead at it—and smiling around an appreciative coo, calling him a big boy (inane)—telling him how hard he is already.
How would the streamer be as a kisser? Would he climb onto his lap and cling to him as he pressed sweet kisses? Would he be desperate, hungry, wanting all of him, including his breath? Would he be playful and crown his kisses with little nips? It's hard to say.
But Pharos does seem to enjoy using his mouth, it's not a leap to think of him dropping to his knees before the desk chair and those pretty eyelashes of his casting shadows on his cheekbones as he takes all of him in, more enthusiasm than sense. It gets user2.718 to shift on his seat, groan as he squeezes himself, pulling the skin forward to mute the feeling, then pushing it back, showing how he's already beading at the tip.
user2.718 would tell him to slow down, and to take his time. To savor it. He'd brush his hair away from his face, stroking those handsome cheeks, pinching his earlobes, bunch those locks within his fingers to guide him. Perhaps to hold him still as he thrust inside his mouth. Just enough to keep him on his toes.
The image shifts. Would Pharos be on the giving end, too. How would he act? Would he tease and edge until no end? Would he be tender about it? Rough?
Still, a lot of his streams have him on the receiving end, and he seems to enjoy it. It's not a difficult image to conjure, Pharos' back, his body between user2.718's legs and lining himself up on his cock, hands on E's thighs, sinking slowly onto his length and moving eagerly that perky, round ass, little mewls spilling from his mouth and looking over his shoulder to ask Mister E if it feels good.
He'd pick him up by that sturdy but tapered waist, bring him back, having him arch and lean back against his chest, head lolling back into a gorgeous arch of his neck. He'd maneuver his legs on both armrests of his chair, spread him wide, and thrust up into that heat to have his voice become a staccato of gasps and little jolts.
Pharos would reach back, his mouth open, tilting to lap at him, unable to purse his lips because of the moans that would fall out from his throat, and he'd kiss them away and into himself as he gripped tightly on those hips as he drove himself harder, and Pharos would mindlessly grip at his hair and call out like a mantra Alhaitham, Alhaitham!—
...
He lets the water run for a while before he splashes his face with it, leaning over the sink and looking at himself in the mirror. He's falling into a place most people can't get out of easily.
He takes a deep breath, towels his face dry, pushes the flush button on the toilet, taking all the remnants of something many people fell shameful.
It's a good think he is not 'most people', Alhaitham considers.
But for the time being, he had to get ready to sleep. He has a big day the next morning.]
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indigently) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sempiternals2023-10-04 01:27 am
no subject
(And the highlight is followed by a few others, confirming chat's agreement to allow him orgasm, but none of them excite him in quite the same way.)
Of course, there's nothing much to actually swallow— although later, of sound mind and coming down from the excitement, he will no doubt consider buying one of those dildos with a cum tube— but he makes a show of it anyway, working his throat so his larynx bobs, pulling away from the dildo with a gasp and licking his lips. ]
Mm fuck— taste so good— thank you—
[ The words are almost babbled out as he lets the dildo fall back to the desk, lips swollen and red and panting as he reaches down to unfasten the ring and wrap his fingers around himself. Between the release of pressure and the toy buzzing furiously against his prostate, he barely gets through a single stroke before his orgasm hits, and his viewers get the scream they were promised as he spurts over himself once more, body arching and jerking weakly against the pleasure for which it's been so desperately waiting. ]
Fuck— ah, fuck—
no subject
Mister E's hand squeezes at his erection when he watches the streamer arch and buck into a barely there touch. The man means what it says, thanks the idea of swallowing someone's seed, and still acts as though he's surprised he's coming so much and all over that fancy lingerie of his.
He winces and looks down. His grip had become so strong he actually hurt himself. He hisses and settles carefully on his seat. Well, that will take him off of it for a while.]
no subject
[ Kaveh reaches out to turn off the vibrator, looking at the camera through lazy, half-lidded eyes, rough breaths whooshing out over his lips as he tries to gather himself together. Slowly, chat is starting to migrate away from emojis again, back to fuller statements as his viewers see the end of their own pleasure.
(Mister E, though, hasn't changed his typing style once, and he wonders.)
Kaveh reaches for the bottle of water he has nearby, sipping from it as he closes up the stream, thanking everyone for their time— for their mora, because now that he's out of the space of his own pleasure, he remembers it, sees how large a number it is, remembers to be shocked all over again. He tells them when the next stream will be and signs off.
He should go and clean up, but something keeps in his chair for a moment longer, chewing on his lip in contemplation.
A breath, and before he can overthink it: ]
no subject
He still, however, sits down on his desk chair, glares at the angry stain on his joggers, and hisses at the cold as he places the ice pack wrapped with a towel on the place he unthinkingly squeezed.
He's an utter fool, what a letdown.
At least the whole thing helps with the silence. There's something to this room, when a stream ends, and how noise, whichever the type, dissipates as though it was never there in the first place. The hurt on his groin certainly grounds his mind into his own body, into his own breathing.
But then he hears a ping that he's heard before, and groans. Usually it's someone else from the chatroom, trying to either ask or scam him for money or just annoy the hell out of him by spamming threats and insults because of some sort of delusion they hold towards Pharos.
Huh, this one even has the gall to make a username like his.
Except. It's verified.
E does a double-take, and suddenly the ice is forgotten.]
no subject
(Tighnari would murder him.) ]
[ He finishes typing the words and sends them almost before he realizes what he's said— Once he does, he sighs, eyes closing as the color creeps up his cheeks. "If you want"? Could he have sounded any fucking needier if he tried? He can practically hear Tighnari's eyes roll, the dramatic sigh in his voice as he mutters something about Kaveh being too much of a sucker for a man who can command a room— even if it is just a chatroom.
Realizing distantly that he was so lost in his own bullshit that he never actually thanked Mister E for the compliment, he adds: ]
no subject
This is a money grab, right? A streamer finds a particularly well-meaning fan or subscriber and decides to milk their funds until they're dry. The idea isn't farfetched, considering it may be frequent on this type of website.
Yet, something in Pharos makes him pause.
The whole stream, he had been surprised that he could even get so much money. He doubts he has the ability to ensure the revenue stays unless he really wants his audience to become a niche, much less how to pull his strings for more money.
That and, well, it's endearing.]
[And he's only perusing the website, at least focusing on one person alone. He hadn't expected to be singled out, and now it gives him what he's sure is the false hope of Pharos looking at his messages specifically. Reacting to the things he types.
He should stop it now.
... shit.]
no subject
[ It's not until after he sends the flurry of messages that Kaveh thinks about the fact that Mister E might see the offer as a cash grab. After all, it's not often that a streamer reaches out directly to suggest a private session; usually, they're purchased for an exorbitant price.
And yet user2.718, a man who seems to have an understanding of this world more even than he does, said yes to his invitation.
He pauses for a moment before he sends another pair of messages: ]
[ He feels better with that said. Reaching across, he makes sure his camera is covered before he finally starts to take down his hair, gently plucks the contacts off his retinas as he waits for the other to reply.
If he takes a moment to sit with his thoughts— something he is trying very hard not to do— he'll realize he's excited, much more than he should be for something like this.
Forget hypotheticals, Tighnari is going to murder him. ]
no subject
It had been, how long? Two minutes? Less than that? The ice barely started dripping through the towel, and when he shifts his weight, the friction actually gets him to groan.
Not a money grab, just something special for him to thank him. It's true that user2.718 kickstarted the movement to get Pharos more money. But it sits strange within him. It makes his spine unfurl, his core unruly. There's something to it that makes him restless.
Particularly how Pharos could just leave him a message in his inbox, and he'd be sure to get to it later.
And yet, he wanted to catch him before he left. It feels like a rough, languid 'come back to bed'.
The cold on his lap is beginning to become painful.]
no subject
[ He has no way of knowing, but his answer probably doesn't help his viewer's mental image at all. He's just being honest, trying to explain why he wants to do something so out of the ordinary for someone like him.
Well, part of why, anyway. He's not about to own up to the excitement he's feeling, or the contentment curling in his stomach in response to the praise— and he's certainly not about to talk about the curiosity that has surfaced in him more than once, the wonderings about what kind of person this Mister E is.
It's almost like a crush, in a way. Although it's more of a distant one, like the type had on a celebrity he's never met—
He probably shouldn't be encouraging it, really. He's sure that user2.718 sees him the same way everyone else does, deep down: a service. Something to watch— to participate in— to get his own rocks off.
(Though explaining it in such a way takes away from a lot of Mister E's behavior, really—)
He shakes himself out of his thoughts, types one last message: ]
no subject
[E's fingers stop at the keyboard, pressing backspace with a decided click on his keyboard and watching all of the words in the text bar being eaten one by one.
He had almost gone into a rant of how Pharos should really rest, that he did nothing but what he thought was right for the stream, but there he went and did take E's advice and left to, hopefully, have some R&R.
user2.718 leans back on his chair enough for it to creak and lets the ice pack fall on the floor. When he runs his hand over his face, it's cold enough to almost jolt him awake from the silly little butterflies he's been feeling in his chest.
'Think about what you want.'
The shape of what he wants has just disconnected. He feels embarrassed that something so impersonal like a live stream of someone doing salacious things in front of a camera would get him to want said person and wish that they'd be there in the room, discarding those silly little frills he enjoys wearing so much or at least letting E tear at them. When his fingers reach under the waistband of his lounge pants, he hisses at the cold, at how sensitive he still is, and his mind's eye decides to show him Pharos pressing his knee on his crotch (too much)—reaching to knead at it—and smiling around an appreciative coo, calling him a big boy (inane)—telling him how hard he is already.
How would the streamer be as a kisser? Would he climb onto his lap and cling to him as he pressed sweet kisses? Would he be desperate, hungry, wanting all of him, including his breath? Would he be playful and crown his kisses with little nips? It's hard to say.
But Pharos does seem to enjoy using his mouth, it's not a leap to think of him dropping to his knees before the desk chair and those pretty eyelashes of his casting shadows on his cheekbones as he takes all of him in, more enthusiasm than sense. It gets user2.718 to shift on his seat, groan as he squeezes himself, pulling the skin forward to mute the feeling, then pushing it back, showing how he's already beading at the tip.
user2.718 would tell him to slow down, and to take his time. To savor it. He'd brush his hair away from his face, stroking those handsome cheeks, pinching his earlobes, bunch those locks within his fingers to guide him. Perhaps to hold him still as he thrust inside his mouth. Just enough to keep him on his toes.
The image shifts. Would Pharos be on the giving end, too. How would he act? Would he tease and edge until no end? Would he be tender about it? Rough?
Still, a lot of his streams have him on the receiving end, and he seems to enjoy it. It's not a difficult image to conjure, Pharos' back, his body between user2.718's legs and lining himself up on his cock, hands on E's thighs, sinking slowly onto his length and moving eagerly that perky, round ass, little mewls spilling from his mouth and looking over his shoulder to ask Mister E if it feels good.
He'd pick him up by that sturdy but tapered waist, bring him back, having him arch and lean back against his chest, head lolling back into a gorgeous arch of his neck. He'd maneuver his legs on both armrests of his chair, spread him wide, and thrust up into that heat to have his voice become a staccato of gasps and little jolts.
Pharos would reach back, his mouth open, tilting to lap at him, unable to purse his lips because of the moans that would fall out from his throat, and he'd kiss them away and into himself as he gripped tightly on those hips as he drove himself harder, and Pharos would mindlessly grip at his hair and call out like a mantra Alhaitham, Alhaitham!—
...
He lets the water run for a while before he splashes his face with it, leaning over the sink and looking at himself in the mirror. He's falling into a place most people can't get out of easily.
He takes a deep breath, towels his face dry, pushes the flush button on the toilet, taking all the remnants of something many people fell shameful.
It's a good think he is not 'most people', Alhaitham considers.
But for the time being, he had to get ready to sleep. He has a big day the next morning.]