Even Achilles didn't get doused this deeply.

I play with you for a bit.
To be fair, you did have to get me to gather myself. I don't know how you keep at it. The endless up and down of your head. The strength of your lips. You have one hand on my balls now, giving a bit of my oil back to me, rubbing, massaging, as your tongue swirls and licks, before your throat envelops my cock again and again. I know you're holding that deepthroat out on me - waiting until you smell my weakness. A chink in my armour. It's a fucking magnificent dance we're in. I have to keep myself together.
As I do so, I play with your hair, fingers lacing and tangling themselves in your locks. pulling and swirling about the roots, as I ensure your hair gets oiled nicely as well. Your legs relax, and slide back down upon the bed. Your slick, glistening ass swerves slightly, and I know you're teasing me.
We stay like that, and you sense it - that I'm gathering my patience, making sure I can proceed whilst enduring your magnificent mouth. Your head rolls with my hands, and your eyes lock onto mine.

We stay like that for a while.
It's nice.

But, like a starving shark circling closer and closer, eventually the surge in my blood takes hold.
Darting forward, my arms seize your shoulders, and pry you off my cock, thick strands of saliva connecting my well-lathered member to your panting lips. Your eyes look at my cock, then back to me, and I flip you onto your back. Your shoulders roll, and like a wave, your chest, then waist, then legs follow. I can see it clearly now, the rising and falling of your chest, your panting lining up with your diaphragm. And I see it, my unfinished work. Bare skin, unlathered, unoiled, unpolished, How we'd need to change that.
Speaking of, With yet another dripping load of oil seeping through my fingers onto your face below, eyes blinking and squinting as a stray drop or two lands on your tongue, I also note how your mouth also lacks my oil. And so, with a fast shlup-shlup-shlup, I lather my cock heavily in oil, before I clasp both hands upon your gorgeous face, seeing your beaming smile as I gently see your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, your chin, your nose, your eyelids and all of your face, glistening and shining in my oil. However, There's your insides to oil as well, and as I keep your lips open with a thumb, feeling the insides of your cheeks, I return my dripping cock to your lips, positioning my coiled legs and hips into position once more.

And once again, with your throat in a new alignment, You take me once again into your heat. You taste the oil, thick and copious, as it coats your tongue and mouth's interior - pressed deeper in alignment with every extra fraction of my cock that you envelop. I'm careful. It would be easy for you, I know, to plug yourself full upon my cock, to deepthroat me suddenly and mind-blowingly. I can't let myself be got by you that easily.

Glck, gluk, glrck, below.

Meanwhile, I turn my coated hands and fingers to your untouched chest, and the virgin, yet-to-be-plundered land of flesh and gorgeous skin that stretches beyond it. Sliding a hand along the length of your neck, down into the jugular notch at the top of your chest, spreading outwards towards the clavicles, before like a sweeping tide, I press southwards over the pectorals. Back and forth like the washing waves, making you shine and polished. Some fingers like water pulled downwards by gravity rush over the sides of your pecs, as I link up freshly oiled flesh with the oiled segments of your back. Others, creep closer and closer to the nipples, making them isolated islands as the streaks of oil rush past them on either side.

I growl. Impatience has me.

I reposition my lower body. I need the extra space. Your agape lips breath as my cock withdraws like a revolving piston. But I don't keep you waiting for long. I sweep my fingers around, then pinch your nipples between fingertips, then between thumb and finger, rolling them between my digits, feeling the sensitive flesh drag, twist and roll, before I release them and let the hands flow deeper south. In their wake, my lips descend, and After a teasing curled flick and lick of the tongue, pressing upon the peaked nipple, I crash down my lips, and drag them upon the muscled skin of your pectoral, swallowing your nipple in their heat. Tasting the oil, Tasting you.

And gods, you're delicious.

The lips purse, and I suck upon the nipple, pulling at the oiled flesh as the tongue circles and coils along the pulled peak like a mighty dragon coiling around it's conquered spire of man, A grand serpent affixing it's coils upon it's helpless prey. All the while, my oiled hands explore further and further south, flooding and drenching the fold of the pectoral, and washing afresh and new upon your abdomen and abbs. Firm, Solid, grasping, claiming, conquering.
I hear your head shift, your chest heave in your panting, you legs shift and squirm, feet grasping for purchase in the sheets, you hands either under my knee or holding onto my back. I leave your first nipple a spire razed into pleasure, and turn swiftly to repeat my ruin upon your other.

Meanwhile, my oiled hands carve into your sides, linking up back with front, leaving the unoiled parts of your body dwindling with every passing moment. Before long, your cock will have my attention, and we both know it.

By the time I lift my head from your other nipple, your entire body has been rendered a glistening - shining - shimmering, gemstone. The crown jewel of the dragon's horde. Polished to a point - with one exception: Your erect, needy, **** cock, pulsing with want. The sole crag of rock left above the tide of my lust.