Sanji had to keep reminding himself not to bite down. He knew from much experience that biting ruined the effect that this slow deliberate sucking produced. Sure, it gave him momentary satisfaction and filled his mouth quite delightfully, but it also ended things far too quickly. Yes, especially under these circumstances, slow and patient was the way to go.
“Doing OK down there, Cook?”
At the sound of the husky voice, Sanji looked up with no small amount of defiance written in his sea-born eyes. Reluctantly, he eased the candy from between sticky lips.
“You’re a fucker. And I hate you.” He replied in a flat voice.
The candy was promptly returned to its previous position. Sucking resumed.
Yeah, it starts like that! And then, nearing the end:
From there, there was sweat, smoke, grunting, the occasional cuss, a badly placed splinter, all sorts of suction, a badly placed cigarette burn, and a constant cloud of wayward ashes.
Some time later, Sanji lay bruised, content, and was well into his third pack...
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