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It turns out that, for all the fuss that was made about it, this dance is actually very boring.
This is only just barely a surprise; any event that requires chaperones is an event that Lindsay generally doesn't look forward to. But it is true. Lindsay has had maybe a bit too much to drink, by now — he's accustomed to Bacchanal rites; the feeling is hardly unfamiliar — and successfully slipped away from his chaperone, and yet it is still boring.
Ashley hisses at the pressure. He is slow and careful and attentive; he spends some time, licking and kissing and biting, on Lindsay's nipples, his hipbones, his stomach.
When Lindsay's nipples are bitten he clings to Ashley, presses down on the back of Ashley's head.
Good, good, that's — good. Ashley is very good. Lindsay wouldn't usually cling this much but Ashley is —
That doesn't hurt, no.
His body language is flickering, just a little.
...huh.
He kisses Lindsay's nipples one last time and bares his throat, just a little bit.
The hand on the back of Ashley's head moves to the back of his neck.
And Ashley-- changes.
It's hard to point to exactly what changes: something in how he's holding himself, the expression on his face, the way he's positioning his hands. But just like before he was obviously, uncontroversially a dominant, in every line of his body, now Ashley is equally obviously, uncontroversially a submissive. His height and muscular frame don't clash with his submissive bearing; if anything, they serve to make him look more submissive by contrast.
His eyes say: I'm yours, I'm yours, I belong to you, I'm yours.
and then changes.
It's in the way he smiles, in the way his shoulders straighten, the way he holds his back, the position of his hands; before, he was obviously, unquestionably a submissive, and now he is obviously, unquestionably dominant.
"My Ashley," he says, firm, and pushes Ashley's head down.
Ashley goes where he's pushed and wraps his mouth around Lindsay's prick and makes a happy sigh.
"Good boy" earns Lindsay a full-body shudder.
Ashley doesn't have to choke on Lindsay's prick but he suspects that Lindsay would like it.
Ashley is not at all wrong — Lindsay gasps and pushes his head down further and fucks Ashley's mouth, murmurs "good boy, my good boy."
Ashley is grinding against the sheets and moaning around Lindsay's cock and choking sometimes when Lindsay fucks his mouth in a way that makes it a little obvious that he's doing it for show but only a little.
Lindsay shudders and his hands tighten in Ashley's hair, on Ashley's neck, when he finishes.
After a moment he pulls Ashley back up and kisses him.
Ashley is still a good kisser but he's-- different. More pliant, softer, more easily led.
Lindsay is still a good kisser, but he's different too — he pushes Ashley's head to where he wants it, he's less cautious when he bites Ashley's lip.
"My good boy," he says again when they separate, and holds Ashley close. "How long…?"
Lindsay pulls Ashley's head down to kiss his forehead. "Since the last time someone dominated you."
If I were without my Leo for several months I would miss him desperately, Lindsay doesn't say; he nods and kisses Ashley again.
Ashley is really too happy and floaty to answer questions Lindsay might have if they aren't directly put to him.
Lindsay's happy to just keep holding him and kissing him and playing with his hair.
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