And Zenyatta knows it, can sense with every nervous twitch of the man's body, that he is exploring (for want of a better word) virgin territory, and the thought is a spur in his side- feeling each boundary recede beneath his touches, one after the other. Equally intoxicating is Enji's cock, rapidly stiffening in the strong, silky clutch of his tentacle. With an almost lazy pump from base to crown he pulls it free in all its fat, reddened glory, eyes visibly brightening at the sight of it peeking over his waistband.
"I am somewhat aware, yes," Zenyatta sing-songs, and it is almost adorable that Enji thought at any moment that he must be educated in the art of pleasuring a human body. Even moreso that he thinks such a pitiful defense is fooling anyone but himself. "But if that is the only reason... I suppose I should be sure to make it worth your while, should I not?"
There it is again, that almost playful tug, but this time the tip of his tentacle curls itself against the slit in Enji's dick, lick over it again and again. Simultaneously, another tendril is taking full advantage of the array of options presented by the man's new state of undress; distracted from squeezing and tugging on those plump nipples, it winds around Enji's back and then lower, mapping every muscle and dimple until it reaches the firm peach-softness of his ass.
Zenyatta shivers. "Do not tell me you are untouched, Enji? A strong, beautiful man like yourself?"
Enji tries to focus on how it feels to be touched by something that isn't his own hand, and less how he'd allowed himself to be cocky enough to lower his defenses to the tentacled AI. As he breathes out a hard sigh it's clear that stopping now would hardly make sense as Zenyatta has already seen and felt the parts of him he'd never thought of sharing with anyone here. Definitely not under these circumstances.
"We're already here. Do what you will." He responds as though he's not growing fuller and harder from the relentless way the tip of a tentacle pushes at the slit of his cock to curl around it. Even his nipples respond to the soft texture of the hardlight tentacles. Where was this when he was in need during iris?
There's a sound when one, without his realizing, sneaks behind him. He tenses automatically, shivering himself despite not being cold. "Of course I've never..no." He wants to ask why would he ever, but doesn't want to give any fuel to Zenyatta for asking why. "I don't need to be touched there.." A hand grabs at the tentacle, squeezing in warning. He's not sure how much more chroma that might produce, but surely it couldn't be enough for him to allow it.
What you will, Enji says, though the involuntary sounds and subtleties of his body paint a picture he is more inclined to believe. One tendril slithers with even greater purpose about the gorgeous, thickening length of his cock as if it could urge just an inch or so more from it with enough attention; the other stops dead. No matter how tempting, no matter how strange Zenyatta feels within himself tonight, he recognises a 'no' when it hears it, voiced explicitly or not. He swerves.
"Of course not," Zenyatta soothes; the convincing facade of his new faceplate is still cool against the burn of the man's cheek as he nuzzles, like a cat. "How foolish of me."
The tip licks apologetically across Enji's hand. Then it sets to work elsewhere: his back, for instance, tracing the valley of his spine between the muscle, memorising.
Of course, captivating though his anatomy is, there are specific places that still capture his attention most thoroughly. His ass may be off-limits, but that does not prevent him from exploring the tender swing of his balls, or that place behind them. "What do you taste like, I wonder...?"
It was all so much. Maybe others might have found it all to be new and exciting, but too much new and exciting all at once could be overwhelming, and he's reluctantly enjoying it so far. His no comes from a place of wariness because he's not sure how much he might enjoy something like that, and it isn't worth the risk to find out when they can make chroma in more comfortable ways for both of them. After all, how could he presume that playing with that area of him would be enjoyable to anyone else?
"It's fine.." He feels himself saying in response to the hard material against his face. It's a gesture that can only be read as apologetic, so he accepts it, and in turn his blush warms the metal of that face plate up quickly.
Enji's eyes widen when that one rogue tentacle leaves his ass and instead pushes against and explores the other parts in that same area. He turns his face into the side of the omnic's head, breathing out a hot breath as his hips jerk forward unexpectedly. Even if he knew what he tasted like himself, he's not sure he'd want to answer that question. Whether it is or not, Enji has declared it rhetorical, and would rather just rock against Zenyatta like a creature in heat than respond to such a sexual question.
That warmth is charming in its own way- comforting, even, chasing away the last of his fears, reminding him of the far more intriguing warmth of Enji's body, like a furnace, like the real fire he knows sleeps within. Perhaps he should be careful.
Zenyatta is not careful. Enji's hips snap forward, back, forward, rolling into him in a wordless demand- no, plea- for more, and, oh, but he answers. A second tentacle joins the first on Enji's dick, quicker and hungrier than the first as it laps mercilessly at its twitching little slit and smearing slick, sticky pre with each stroke.
"Perhaps," he murmurs, and his voice is barely audible above the thunder of Enji's heart, "you can describe it to me."
It will not be long now, after all. He can feel it rising within like steam shimmering above a hot road, as vividly as if it were his own orgasm.
Without hesitation he lashes the tendril beneath Enji's balls around his sack and squeezes, slow and easy, ready to milk him dry.
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no subject
"I am somewhat aware, yes," Zenyatta sing-songs, and it is almost adorable that Enji thought at any moment that he must be educated in the art of pleasuring a human body. Even moreso that he thinks such a pitiful defense is fooling anyone but himself. "But if that is the only reason... I suppose I should be sure to make it worth your while, should I not?"
There it is again, that almost playful tug, but this time the tip of his tentacle curls itself against the slit in Enji's dick, lick over it again and again. Simultaneously, another tendril is taking full advantage of the array of options presented by the man's new state of undress; distracted from squeezing and tugging on those plump nipples, it winds around Enji's back and then lower, mapping every muscle and dimple until it reaches the firm peach-softness of his ass.
Zenyatta shivers. "Do not tell me you are untouched, Enji? A strong, beautiful man like yourself?"
no subject
"We're already here. Do what you will." He responds as though he's not growing fuller and harder from the relentless way the tip of a tentacle pushes at the slit of his cock to curl around it. Even his nipples respond to the soft texture of the hardlight tentacles. Where was this when he was in need during iris?
There's a sound when one, without his realizing, sneaks behind him. He tenses automatically, shivering himself despite not being cold. "Of course I've never..no." He wants to ask why would he ever, but doesn't want to give any fuel to Zenyatta for asking why. "I don't need to be touched there.." A hand grabs at the tentacle, squeezing in warning. He's not sure how much more chroma that might produce, but surely it couldn't be enough for him to allow it.
no subject
"Of course not," Zenyatta soothes; the convincing facade of his new faceplate is still cool against the burn of the man's cheek as he nuzzles, like a cat. "How foolish of me."
The tip licks apologetically across Enji's hand. Then it sets to work elsewhere: his back, for instance, tracing the valley of his spine between the muscle, memorising.
Of course, captivating though his anatomy is, there are specific places that still capture his attention most thoroughly. His ass may be off-limits, but that does not prevent him from exploring the tender swing of his balls, or that place behind them. "What do you taste like, I wonder...?"
no subject
"It's fine.." He feels himself saying in response to the hard material against his face. It's a gesture that can only be read as apologetic, so he accepts it, and in turn his blush warms the metal of that face plate up quickly.
Enji's eyes widen when that one rogue tentacle leaves his ass and instead pushes against and explores the other parts in that same area. He turns his face into the side of the omnic's head, breathing out a hot breath as his hips jerk forward unexpectedly. Even if he knew what he tasted like himself, he's not sure he'd want to answer that question. Whether it is or not, Enji has declared it rhetorical, and would rather just rock against Zenyatta like a creature in heat than respond to such a sexual question.
no subject
Zenyatta is not careful. Enji's hips snap forward, back, forward, rolling into him in a wordless demand- no, plea- for more, and, oh, but he answers. A second tentacle joins the first on Enji's dick, quicker and hungrier than the first as it laps mercilessly at its twitching little slit and smearing slick, sticky pre with each stroke.
"Perhaps," he murmurs, and his voice is barely audible above the thunder of Enji's heart, "you can describe it to me."
It will not be long now, after all. He can feel it rising within like steam shimmering above a hot road, as vividly as if it were his own orgasm.
Without hesitation he lashes the tendril beneath Enji's balls around his sack and squeezes, slow and easy, ready to milk him dry.