"Me neither," he murmurs, presses another kiss to the hot bundle of skin and nerve endings, and his hand still hasn't let go. Another kiss, and he isn't sure if it's impatience or being encouraged by Glitch's response, but the next kiss isn't just a matter of lips on skin. It's tongue, slowly squirming into the slight indentation where the foreskin connects with the head.

This is new, that's for sure, but he thinks he could get used to it. The shape, the taste, the fact he can feel Glitch's pulse at the very tip of his tongue makes something hot and tight clench deep within him.

Flicks of tongue tip soon becomes bold drags over heated skin, rather like one might lick the coating off a candied apple on a hot Summer's day.