[ jack tends to default to top most of the time he does this, give he's usually the more bossy, demanding party, and usually with strangers that he'll never let this close to him again. Generally, he has a direction in mind before the other person does.
Even when he's feeling like having someone inside him, most encounters start out like this - jack assuming control, guiding, leading - and ends with him riding them more often than not, still controlling the play of it. On the rare, rare occasion, he'll let someone else do the work, still with hands on their thighs, dragging them into him, or huffing out commands next to their ear.
So he thinks nothing of it when he pulls Murphy into his lap. But, there's still plenty of time before pegs go in slots for that arrangment to shift. In the meantime, Jack's hands find Murphy's hips, tugging him in against him close and snug, flush against his chest, meeting Murphy's lips, his own parting to pull him in again. Head tilted to lick deeper inside him, there's something somehow lewd in the way his tongue glides against his. A low, rumbled hum sounds from Jack's chest, clear pleased with this outcome.
Murphy still feels tense in a way, anxious or shy, so, as much as jack would like to grip his ass and tug him to flip him onto the mattress, he holds out on it for now. Instead, a hand slips under the hem of Murphy's shirt, settling at the small of his back, and the other hooks around the back of his neck, careful not to grip, before brushing over the back of his head.
For a long, long several minutes, Jack's content just doing this - kissing him, feeling the silky slide of his lips, the coarse scratch of his beard. Hands roaming over his back, chest, arms and face leisurely, but nothing too alarming as of yet. Eventually, something like ten minute in (he's guessing, hell if he knows), jack pulls back enough he can see murphy's eyes. ]
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Even when he's feeling like having someone inside him, most encounters start out like this - jack assuming control, guiding, leading - and ends with him riding them more often than not, still controlling the play of it. On the rare, rare occasion, he'll let someone else do the work, still with hands on their thighs, dragging them into him, or huffing out commands next to their ear.
So he thinks nothing of it when he pulls Murphy into his lap. But, there's still plenty of time before pegs go in slots for that arrangment to shift. In the meantime, Jack's hands find Murphy's hips, tugging him in against him close and snug, flush against his chest, meeting Murphy's lips, his own parting to pull him in again. Head tilted to lick deeper inside him, there's something somehow lewd in the way his tongue glides against his. A low, rumbled hum sounds from Jack's chest, clear pleased with this outcome.
Murphy still feels tense in a way, anxious or shy, so, as much as jack would like to grip his ass and tug him to flip him onto the mattress, he holds out on it for now. Instead, a hand slips under the hem of Murphy's shirt, settling at the small of his back, and the other hooks around the back of his neck, careful not to grip, before brushing over the back of his head.
For a long, long several minutes, Jack's content just doing this - kissing him, feeling the silky slide of his lips, the coarse scratch of his beard. Hands roaming over his back, chest, arms and face leisurely, but nothing too alarming as of yet. Eventually, something like ten minute in (he's guessing, hell if he knows), jack pulls back enough he can see murphy's eyes. ]
You good?