"What, someone this beautiful?" He's teasing, but he's not mocking. Maybe he hasn't thought of John as beautiful before now, but he's looking at the expanse of dark skin under his fingers, bisected by a golden line, curves and hollows still shimmering, cock almost shy in its sheath, and you know what? He's coming around to it.

Distracted by John's explorations, his eyes close for a moment, and his asshole squeezes around the tentacle like it's trying to pull it deeper. It's a bit too soon to be excited again, but guess who has two thumbs and can still enjoy this gentle probe. He lets out a deep breath, but keeps his wits together to finish his thought.

"Mmm," and he keeps teasing, fondly, with a face like a satisfied cat, "you callin' the Charlie you were dreamin' about a liar?"

There was a plan... there's still a plan. Any minute now John's going to get the tonguing of a lifetime. But Charlie feels very lazy, and it's very nice where he is just now.