What If?// More WDW BxB: Corbyn-Shots

Jorbyn- Smut

This is a second part to the 5th day of the second A Corbyn Christmas where Jonah is working as a mall Santa and a horny Corbyn comes to visit.
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Summary: It's amazing how a little pleasure can make you forget where you are. Even when you're in the middle a mall surrounded by people who can look over at any second and see you getting a handjob

Corbyn's POV
I wiggled closer to the bigger boy, pulling the faux-beard up and over his head, dropping it beside the chair.

" Easy, Baby. The kids just learned Santa's gay. They don't need to know his beard's fake too," Jonah chuckled to me, kissing gently at my jaw, rumbling against it," take it out for me."

I purred lowly at the slow, nipping bites he littered along my throat, tipping into them while I reached down to undo my pants. I buried my hand into my boxers, pulling my half-chub from its prison.

" Good boy," he praised softly, staring down at where I had revealed myself for him. His fingertips pressing to my lips," come on, you know what I want."

I opened my mouth, taking the digits inside, leaning in to swallow around them.

My hips starting up a steady, hard grind, cock nuzzling into the plush fur of his big red coat. Looking down at Jonah with half-lidded eyes and pink cheeks.

He rubbed the pads against my tastebuds, biting down on his perfect lip, eyes meeting mine.

" Came all the way here for a little handjob," he teased, voice already a little raspy. Scissoring his fingers apart in my mouth," you're insatiable."

He pulled them away after that, using them to leave a glistening trail that ran down past my jaw, nearing my collarbone, drawing with my own spit.

I panted a little for him, brain fuzzy from all the blood rushing south, whimpering out low in my throat," Joan."

" Yeah, yeah," he muttered dismissively, finally wrapping wet fingers around my cock," I got you, Baby."

I buried my face into the crock of his neck, kissing at the skin just below his jaw in silent thanks, only to bite down weakly when his grip stayed loose.

The slow, taunting pumps of his hand urging my hips to buck.

" Ah ah ah," he tsked at the movement, giving a firm, nearly painful squeeze," none of that. Keep still, alright?"

" Yes, Sir," I groaned, somehow managing to shift closer.

The teasing motions resumed, swiping his thumb over my swollen tip. Humming when the feeling made me sigh.

" Filthy little slut," he mused casually, drawing a shaky moan from me," begging for it in the middle of a mall where anyone can look over and see you drooling for me."

He tightened his grip just a little bit and I had to bite him to muffle a pathetically loud noise, fisting at his robe.

It wasn't enough, but it was still so good.

God, I needed this.

He would spit onto my dick when the saliva began to rub dry and the absolutely disgusting, degrading, delicious action sent an impossibly heavy shudder down my spine every single time.

" I know, whore. You like to be spit on, like it when I treat you like what you are," he breathed close to my ear. Hand stroking up hard, before settling around the upper half of my penis," go on then, fuck my fist."

I jerked forward immediately, hands sliding to his thighs for better leverage.

I wiggled back, arching my spine just right. The angle made my thighs ache after only a few thrusts, but the warm, almost too dry, friction was so fucking good, too good to stop.