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Summary
Max notices immediately. He looks down at him with a soft little coo, brushing his thumb across Charles’s flushed cheek. “You’re allowed to touch me, Charlie.”
Charles swallows hard, blinking up at him. “I—I don’t wanna do it wrong.”
That makes Max’s chest tighten, so shy, so clueless, so good. He takes Charles’s hands in his own and guides them firmer around his waist, pressing them into his hips. “There’s no wrong. Just hold me. I want your hands on me.”
Charles lets out a shaky breath, finally gripping a little tighter, palms warm and huge against Max’s sides. His blush deepens, eyes darting away, but his cock twitches under Max’s pussy, giving him away completely.
Max grins, rocking against him with a filthy moan. “See? You’re perfect already.”
Or
Max rides Charles softly.