Burr wraps his legs around Jefferson's hips as he is lifted, pressed back. He moans, when Jefferson kisses his, shivers, when a hand smooths up his thigh, curling over his ass. Plays it up, everything, anything, to please Jefferson.

"I'm glad you think so," Burr says, breathy, before he is tangling his fingers in Jefferson's hair and diving back in--slow, filth, wet kisses, grinding their pelvises together.

Thomas could fuck him, if he wanted. Burr is already prepared, and it would take less than ten minutes, if the were quick about it. Burr takes Jefferson's hand and guides it back, lets him feel.

Of course, he could simply jerk him off, or use his mouth. Or give him a lap dance. That would be nice. Watching Jefferson's face while Burr ground him out against his own pelvis.

Burr reaches between them. Palms him, and if Jefferson lets him, undoes buttons to slip his hand inside, wrapping around his hot length.