Bee picks up the pace, muscles in his long thighs clenching, rising to his knees then sliding back down. His open hands press hard against Clark’s shoulders as he drives himself back, and as he settles into the cradle of Clark’s pelvis he shifts his hips and tightens his internal muscles in a way that makes Clark’s head swim. His whole body shakes with the effort, and Clark comes back to himself enough to take a gentle hold of his hips and support him, do some of the heavy lifting, and as their eyes meet Bee’s face loses its pinched look.
“Yeah, that’s it, that’s good,” he moans, and Clark takes it as encouragement, pushing up with little shifts of his own hips, and the way Bee groans and throws his head back says that that’s a good thing, so he does it some more. He only lasts a couple more minutes, and he’d be embarrassed, but Bee just grins and starts slowly stroking himself, Clark still buried half hard inside him. He comes with a quiet grunt and collapses onto Clark’s chest.