Luke was making music, Eddy's favorite kind. His moans were soft and aching against the crooning blues still playing in the background. This was exactly what that music was made for, to make love to, to get lost in sensation, in sublime lust and profound ecstacy.<br/><br/>Eddy continued on, encouraged by such beautiful noises. His rhythm was unceasing. He could taste the salt of precum, tangy and bitter. It made him salivate. He wanted Luke's come, he wanted to feel the boy shudder and shake in his mouth, wanted to feel that delicious cock pulse on his tongue.<br/><br/>Eddy groaned as he did exactly as he was told, sucking the boy back into his throat so hard that he nearly stumbled. He made music of his own, sighing and groaning and rumbling away as he slurped and swallowed, practically inhaling the boy.<br/><br/>'Come on, come on,' he wanted to say but he was too far into it to pull back and speak. He wanted it too badly to stop. 'Give it to me sweetheart, come on, give me.'