Strippers VS Religion

Priestly calmly pulled a packet of lubricant out of his bra and spread it on his hands before touching Mars again. He no longer seemed interested in touching himself at all; his eyes didn't leave Mars for a second.

He shuddered, clenching his fists around the blankets.

"...please," he mumbled, staring away from Priestly. "...uhm...I..."

"Faster? Slower?" he asked, smiling. "Tell me what feels good, of course."

"N...no, that's not..." he mumbled, biting his lips nervously. "...I want...uh..."

"Something else?" he asked, waggling his brows. "Would you like me to use my mouth perhaps?"

"No!" he squeaked. "I...I..." he couldn't bring himself to say it. He wanted to bury his face into his hands for even thinking of trying. "...n-n-never mind."

"What is it? You can say it." He kissed him on the cheek reassuringly. "I'm open to anything you want. Though if I have to guess, I will."

"I...n-no," he mumbled. "I don't...this is f-fine."

"I think I'll guess," he teased, kissing Mars's neck and yanking at his shirt.

"Wh-what are you doing?!" he gasped, shuddering.

"Guessing what you want, sugar! Now come on, take off that shirt and let me play with you..."

"This isn't what I wanted!" he insisted, tugging his shirt back down. "I-I don't...quit it!"

"Then tell me what you do want, or I'll have to guess," he chuckled.

"A-a handjob is fine, really!" he insisted, far too embarrassed to say it now.

"Is it anal?" he asked, this time pulling at Mars's pants.

He opened his mouth to protest, but he couldn't bring himself to. Namely because it was. Ashamed, he covered his face.

"Do you want to receive or give?" he asked.

"I...I don't want to..." he grumbled for a few moments more before he conceded.

"...r...receive."

"You do or don't want to recieve?" he asked, laughing. "Either way is fine by me, sugar."

"I-I...I d...do," he mumbled, covering his face again. "B-but! Not...not right now, or, or anything!"

"Pull down your pants and lay on your back," he said, giving him a gentle push.