[ What Broca might come in handy for later? Well, not breaking down doors, apparently, which has been a disappointing revelation to him, as someone who has prided himself on being able to break down a door on more than one occasion in the past.
Though at least the failure this time has led to some interesting results.
There's a satisfied little huff of a sound from Broca as Matoba is cut off from whatever else he was going to say, that is followed up seconds later by a sharper inhale as Matoba gets a hand on him properly. For damn near all of his adult life, soft gestures of physical affection have been missing from Broca's life. He doesn't make attempts to ingratiate himself with others, and while there's still enough there to like that he's made a decent handful of friends, friends don't usually go around petting each other's ears.
But the way that Matoba keeps up the soothing petting of his ears, all the while, subconscious or not, matching it to the way he strokes his cock is getting to Broca more than he'd care to admit to. There's a jarring contrast to the sensations that pulls his focus in different directions and begins to muddle his thoughts as he fills out in Matoba's hand.
His kissing, no less forceful, feels messier now as he presses his tongue against Matoba's lips, still determined to keep him quiet for now. When he does finally crack his eyes open, the pupils look blown, but notably rounded, soft in comparison. For all that Broca is the one with the furry appendages, his eyes are like the majority of Felines from his world, pupils perfectly circular.
Then again, he is more of a tiger than a house cat anyway.
Matoba only gets that returned stare for a few seconds before Broca's eyes slip shut again, and while one hand stays tangled in the hair at Matoba's neck, he reaches out to grab onto Matoba's hip with the other, fingers pressing in with enough force to leave a forming bruise later. ]
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Though at least the failure this time has led to some interesting results.
There's a satisfied little huff of a sound from Broca as Matoba is cut off from whatever else he was going to say, that is followed up seconds later by a sharper inhale as Matoba gets a hand on him properly. For damn near all of his adult life, soft gestures of physical affection have been missing from Broca's life. He doesn't make attempts to ingratiate himself with others, and while there's still enough there to like that he's made a decent handful of friends, friends don't usually go around petting each other's ears.
... Maybe some do. Broca's friendships have decidedly never involved this kind of act. What's more, his past relationships (if they can be called that, and he admittedly would not) have always existed for a very narrow scope of time and remained purely sexual in nature. Fooling around in a closet is far from the most risqué thing he's done before, and the aggressive kiss feels normal enough by his standard.
But the way that Matoba keeps up the soothing petting of his ears, all the while, subconscious or not, matching it to the way he strokes his cock is getting to Broca more than he'd care to admit to. There's a jarring contrast to the sensations that pulls his focus in different directions and begins to muddle his thoughts as he fills out in Matoba's hand.
His kissing, no less forceful, feels messier now as he presses his tongue against Matoba's lips, still determined to keep him quiet for now. When he does finally crack his eyes open, the pupils look blown, but notably rounded, soft in comparison. For all that Broca is the one with the furry appendages, his eyes are like the majority of Felines from his world, pupils perfectly circular.
Then again, he is more of a tiger than a house cat anyway.
Matoba only gets that returned stare for a few seconds before Broca's eyes slip shut again, and while one hand stays tangled in the hair at Matoba's neck, he reaches out to grab onto Matoba's hip with the other, fingers pressing in with enough force to leave a forming bruise later. ]