There was something thoroughly pleasing about being able to lean back in his seat and let her see to him. He revelled in the lack of action required so much so that he resisted the chance to grope her offered chest, and later when she tried to take him he resisted dragging her down. Instead he rested, with only sign that he was being blown coming in a few content groans (except, of course, for those from his pre-cum producing, aching dick.)<br/><br/>He drank and watched her, grinning regardless of whether her eyes were down to help her focus on trying - quite successfully! - to tackle the entirety of him, or up so that he could watch her pretty green eyes echoing all that was going on while she sucked so... eagerly at him.<br/><br/>Inevitably though the pleasure she was lending to him soon grew to overwhelm his desire to simply leave her to it, and he surpassed what could be expressed with softly spoken praise and wordless groans. Gone were the moments where he could enjoy the feel; now he needed to fuck.<br/><br/>His hips found themselves in a rhythm of shallow yet relentless upward thrusts to try and claim those last few inches of her throat despite the fact that by and large he just pushed her head up instead. Of course, that didn't stop him from trying. His hands fell to the back of her head, one to cup it and the other to simply *try* despite having the glass clutched with his fingers, its base resting slightly against her too. Still he left her to set the pace and to do the work to the tune of him hissing thin,slightly meaningless praise such as 'Good Girl'.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>