[And yet, here he is being manipulated by the dick. A heave of a sigh ruffles hair, gives way to a series of dramatic breaths. He's virginal in this form, and while Takasugi could care to be gentler...
There's no real call for it. That slit's gotta stretch eventually, he's wet enough on the inside that 90% of any involved discomfort is negated in that slickness (in slickness and health). His cock's in an ever-protest against that hand, protruding eventually past that opening -- just a bit at first, growing in his grips with searing encouragement. With his mouth hanging ajar, he's not remiss to overlook that tongue; his own lolls to the side, lazily trying to return a bit of something but he's a bit too late and all at once his senses are overloaded in an entirely separate means.
Ah, Takasugi's trying to get killed.
On a good day, he'd be mentally sound enough to lap at that offering like a doe from a stream. Where Takasugi's been urging him into a more carnal state -- and even whilst being aware of this, he's automatically recoiling, angling his head up and away like a street kid that's just been invited to their first Thanksgiving dinner but what are plates and utensils? Bony appendages pierce further into overhead rock, prompting a minor torrent of dust. He's making a goddamn mess and not even in a good way. Not yet. This isn't the monsterfuck session Takasugi wanted.
no subject
There's no real call for it. That slit's gotta stretch eventually, he's wet enough on the inside that 90% of any involved discomfort is negated in that slickness (in slickness and health). His cock's in an ever-protest against that hand, protruding eventually past that opening -- just a bit at first, growing in his grips with searing encouragement. With his mouth hanging ajar, he's not remiss to overlook that tongue; his own lolls to the side, lazily trying to return a bit of something but he's a bit too late and all at once his senses are overloaded in an entirely separate means.
Ah, Takasugi's trying to get killed.
On a good day, he'd be mentally sound enough to lap at that offering like a doe from a stream. Where Takasugi's been urging him into a more carnal state -- and even whilst being aware of this, he's automatically recoiling, angling his head up and away like a street kid that's just been invited to their first Thanksgiving dinner but what are plates and utensils? Bony appendages pierce further into overhead rock, prompting a minor torrent of dust. He's making a goddamn mess and not even in a good way. Not yet. This isn't the monsterfuck session Takasugi wanted.
Try harder bitch.]