The touch of fingertips it's as sexy as it gets, but fingertips running down naked pecs it's a lot sexier than it seems.

Just imagine it, Puck on his back tied to a bed with Kurt scarves, and Kurt straddling his hips. One hand starts to travel down his cheek, to his neck, to shoulder, around one of his nipples and every little muscle he finds in his way. Slowly, carefully, like the touch could disappear any moment until Puck is trying his hardest to keep still and not arch to the hand. Biting his lips to keep from begging him to stop teasing.

Then a kiss.

A kiss so soft that Puck almost misses it. A slow kiss that begins just above Puck's navel and that turns fast into a tongue mapping his chest. Kurt might not really know what he is doing, but he knows what he wants and that is to feel the different textures under his fingertips and learn the way Puck's skin tastes.

He doesn't feel sexy at all, but he wants to do that and that's enough. Having Puck there, sweating and groaning under his tongue makes him feel a bit more secure; like he can do this, like he can bring pleasure to this boy under him with just fingertips and little else.

When the groan turned into a moan Kurt knew for sure that he must have been doing something right.

He was fully clothed while Puck was just wearing his jeans, and maybe, just maybe, it was time to step up his game. He wanted the guy between his legs to stop biting his lips, to stop fighting his feelings and to beg him to do something.

So he sat up on his hips, completely conscious of how his cock was awfully close to Puck's but not quite there, and how if he moved just a little bit he'd lose control would probably end up humping the boy under him until they both came. But he liked this control, he liked the power it gave him and he wasn't going to give it up just to listen to his instincts. They could wait until Puck begged.

So he stood still, his weight over Puck's legs just barely there, as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, never losing sight of Puck's eyes and noticing the way they seemed to roam over every inch of skin he showed.

It was just a matter of time.

The last button was the easiest, what was hard was to take the decision of actually taking the shirt off. But the way Puck's eyes got bigger for a second only to get half lidded a second after, or the way that he could feel the other boy's cock give a little trust against him, was pay enough for the exposed feeling he got.

Now that they were the same, that it was all fair, Kurt wanted more; he wanted to have the scale tipped to his side again. And he knew exactly how to do it. He took his shirt, and sacrificed it for the greater good by using it to blindfold Puck.

A gasp told him it might have been one of his greater ideas.

He made sure that the fabric didn't cover his nose or his mouth, and parted with a little kiss that had Puck following him as much as he could when he was still tied up. Beside, he wanted to be able to hear his moan, watch him bite his lips, and hear clearly whenever Puck gave up and begged.

Now, though, he had to keep working, keep the boy under him strained, tense, and aroused, and he knew just what he could do to make that happen.

He was on his hands and knees, just hovering over Puck, lowering his mouth sometimes to lick a strip of skin and then gently blowing, then a little lick here, and a little lick there… until Puck got used to that. When he stopped gasping when he felt the cold, Kurt made a straight line from his neck to the button of Puck's jeans, biting and sucking on skin until he could feel Puck squirming under him.

His hands worked fast and diligent, not at unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, but at making him go a little more crazy with each stroke that went a bit too far to the side. Nimble fingertips stroked the fabric just over his tights, close, so very close, but not close enough.

And sometimes a finger strayed and touched Puck's hard cock over his jeans and Kurt was rewarded with a long moan and gasp.

The next thing he did was something that he just couldn't help. He felt the way the boy moved under him, rippled, like a wave, like a tide, like an ocean that was barely contained in a gorgeous body, and he knew he had to do something, anything, to make it ripple again.

He got his lips closer to the zip, opened his mouth, covered the bulge with it, and blew some hot air against the fabric before gently biting it, teasing it, moving his lips against it and sucking just a little.

Being a tease was so rewarding.

Puck moved then, he rippled, he arched, he curled on himself as if he wanted to sit down and hug Kurt head against his crotch; but he was tied and unable to do so. As long as he had those scarves around his wrist he was tamed; at least, as much as you could tame a force of nature.

Puck was under his power and Kurt could only smirk around the erection pressed against his mouth.

He removed himself, and got a whine as a result, and decided to be a good man and help this guy under him. His man.

Kurt went back to Puck's mouth, breathing against it and sometimes letting his lips touch the ones that were so readily waiting for him to do something, while his hands caressed the strip of skin over the jeans, unbuckling the belt and throwing it far away before he got ideas that distracted him from what he really wanted here. In no time Puck's jeans were unzipped and started a slow trip down his legs as Kurt took his time kissing Puck's chest while his hands worked.

When the pants were around Puck's knees and Kurt was licking a trail from Puck's navel to his soft bed of curls, he stopped all kind of contact and sat back on his heels while he helped him out of the jeans legs.

He didn't know of any occasion on which Puck had come to see him and actually wore underwear. This time it was no different and, with Puck blindfolded, Kurt took his chance to watch and study what he had in front of him, what he had had inside of him, what he couldn't wait to have in his mouth, and bit his lower lip in anticipation.

Puck's cock stood there, a little veiny, a little pink, circumcised and absolutely mouthwatering. He just couldn't wait until he had it in his mouth, until he could feel its weight against his tongue and feel the taste of it mixed with cum.

Kurt loved Puck's cock, there was nothing to say about it but that, and now he could do with it whatever he wanted. Puck wouldn't know what was going to hit him.

He positioned Puck's legs around his waist, not tight enough to be unable to move, but just close enough to feel the reactions he got whenever he touched a new place, a new corner, with his fingertips running down Puck's tights.

His middle finger was gently grazing Puck's perineum, slowly, pressing hard enough to keep tickles at bay but not as much as Puck would have wanted.

Puck's hips were starting to act up, rising to his touch, pushing against his hand, just in time with Puck's groans.

Kurt didn't want to explain the game, he didn't want to have to actually talk and break the spell, to tell him that he would have all he wanted if he just begged for it. Puck would be allowed to come whenever he did, but he had to realize that by himself.

So, Kurt just kept playing, Puck was going to understand at some point. And, even if he didn't understand, Kurt was sure that he could get him so turned on that there was no other thing to do but beg for release.

With his thumb he circled Puck's hole, before licking the head of his cock, and smirked when Puck gave a long groan. He was so going to win this.

After that it was like flowing through the motions of an act they had repeated so many times that there was no way to do it wrong, but it was so amazing that it always felt new.

He would put some lube in his fingers and slowly push them in, until Puck was a quivering mass of human, groaning and gasping and wanting with all his being for something else, something more than what he already had. Kurt would then apply just a little pressure, just enough to give him a hint of what he wanted, and take his fingers out completely, and then push them in again, tormentingly slow.

By now usually Puck would be using all kind of expletives, trying to use his hips to get more of the fingers inside him fucking himself on his hand, and maybe trying to find some part of Kurt to bite. Sometimes it was his lips that got bitten; sometimes it was his cock, or his neck, even his hair. Right now, though, Puck was in his hands and he couldn't do anything but trash against the scarves, try to move his hips and moan with every inch of finger that got closer to his prostate.

He backed off enough to feel Puck's legs over his ribs instead of his waist and lay down on the bed so could be comfortable while doing what he wanted. With one of his arms over Puck's legs, and the other just under it so he could keep fingering, Kurt took a deep breath and lick a stripe from the base to the tip of Puck's cock, his own aching between his legs when he heard his name turn into a moan in Puck's mouth.

It was so easy to lose himself in the texture of the skin under his tongue, on the salty taste of the precum, and the way an erection felt soft and firm under his mouth like it was meant to be there; that didn't happen with every cock, Kurt knew that by now, but Puck's… Puck's cock was special. It was like a treat, a candy that you just couldn't get enough of, and it was the best way Kurt had to control him.

He took the head in his mouth, letting his tongue give little licks at the slit, and used his other hand to cover the base of it. By then Puck had two fingers deep inside him and he was starting to try and form words. None of them really got past his lips, as every time it seemed he was about to talk, Kurt would give a little more pressure or suck a bit harder or get him deeper.

Until Puck just couldn't resist it anymore and suddenly Kurt was watching all the signals unfold before his eyes.

Puck's legs tightened around his ribs, with his heels pressed firmly against his skin, and curled over himself again before stretching and repeating. Kurt could see how his head was trashing on the pillows, turning from side to side until he managed to shake the shirt off. The morning sun washed over the room freely that Kurt had no trouble noticing the way that Puck's eyes were watching him. His pupils were blown and his eyes were half lidded, before closing as he threw his head back at the pillows with a moan. Kurt was sucking so hard that his jaw ached.

"Cheater" he whispered against his cock's head after a few minutes.

"Kurt… Kurt I want, I need… Kurt" the boy said between moans and gasps.

"What do you want?" Kurt asked, his tone of voice firm, as he stood up a little to watch Puck wriggle under his stare.

"I want… your mouth on me, your cock in me, I want it, Kurt, come on. I want you inside me. I want you around me. I promise I'll make you feel good later, just, come on" Puck said, struggling with his ties and, without noticing (or maybe he did) showing off his muscles.

"You know what? I'm going to suck you now and you will come on my mouth, and then I'll fuck you until you come again. If you are still up to making me feel good later, well… I won't be adverse" he said, looking still as stoic as ever, even if he was melting inside. Kurt wanted to come just as much as Puck did.

"Yes" Puck hissed, while trying to fuck himself deeper with Kurt fingers. "Suck me, come on, Kurt. Fuck, you are just so hot, I need your mouth. I need it, babe, just suck me"

And so, Kurt got down on his knees again, just an inch above Puck's cock, looking at him through his lashes. Waiting for him to crack, waiting for Puck to beg.

"What are you waiting for, Kurt, just suck me, dammit" Puck said, trying to lift his hips to Kurt's lips unsuccessfully. "Kurt, just suck me, fuck, suck me, please. I need to come, I want to come on your mouth, just please, please suck me and fuck me and- oooh, FUCK"

Kurt chose that moment to lower his mouth on Puck, and apparently the man was wired enough that it was all it took for him to cum on his mouth. He tried catching it all because he loved the way it tasted and the texture of it on his tongue, but a lot of it was just dripping down his chin.

Without cleaning himself up Kurt went back up and kissed Puck, loving the way the man just seemed to be lazily cleaning him up with his tongue between kisses.

"God, Kurt, I love it when you are like this… but you are an awful tease, you drive me crazy" he whispered against Kurt's lips.

"And I'm not even done yet" Kurt whispered back, moving the legs a bit and letting his cock graze Puck's stretched hole.

Both gasped at the same time and smiled. This was a fun game; who won a round didn't really matter, in the end it was a win-win situation.