That's nice. Keep those skills. They're- hnngh- serving you well. [A slave to experience, Molly is basking in the glow of being made a canvas to someone else's free exploration. Maybe it would be harder- phrasing- if he had ever found something he didn't like. There's bound to be something too depraved and sick for his imagination, but he hasn't encountered it yet, and it certainly isn't Ren's wandering fingers.
He moans against Ren's mouth just before they part, tilting his head for better access and biting down on his own lip in time with Ren's bite under his pierced and pointed ears. His red eyes are empty voids, but they're glazed over, still, and half-lidded. If he weren't writhing in anticipation of a finale, he'd be putty. That'll come after.] Praise'll get you everywhere.
[He's preening, but there's such an edge of wanton need coloring everything, it comes out as a little pleading and desperate. There's a gasp that cuts the space between their mouths and splits them apart suddenly as some part of Ren- he's too disoriented to know if it's the hand or the knee or the pressure of his thigh- hits a spot that makes him see stars momentarily. And then he's back to kissing and biting and sucking and digging his fingernails into Ren's shoulder. His tail coils, serpentine, around Ren's ankle like it could hold him here forever and when Molly finally releases, every part of him, tail included, goes blissfully limp and his arms, with all their noodly consistency- wrap around Ren so he can nuzzle him with satisfaction.]
You, my friend, have magic fingers, and they are very welcome here. My gods. [The pollen seems to be fading, and Molly is only aware of it because he can't smell it anymore. It was overwhelming, even with the stench of sweat and sex and grass. The pollen's fading and Molly is still very comfortable where he is, despite the amount of grass stains covering one entire side of him. Good. That's good. That makes it feel like it was entirely in his control and nothing slipped from his grasp.]
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He moans against Ren's mouth just before they part, tilting his head for better access and biting down on his own lip in time with Ren's bite under his pierced and pointed ears. His red eyes are empty voids, but they're glazed over, still, and half-lidded. If he weren't writhing in anticipation of a finale, he'd be putty. That'll come after.] Praise'll get you everywhere.
[He's preening, but there's such an edge of wanton need coloring everything, it comes out as a little pleading and desperate. There's a gasp that cuts the space between their mouths and splits them apart suddenly as some part of Ren- he's too disoriented to know if it's the hand or the knee or the pressure of his thigh- hits a spot that makes him see stars momentarily. And then he's back to kissing and biting and sucking and digging his fingernails into Ren's shoulder. His tail coils, serpentine, around Ren's ankle like it could hold him here forever and when Molly finally releases, every part of him, tail included, goes blissfully limp and his arms, with all their noodly consistency- wrap around Ren so he can nuzzle him with satisfaction.]
You, my friend, have magic fingers, and they are very welcome here. My gods. [The pollen seems to be fading, and Molly is only aware of it because he can't smell it anymore. It was overwhelming, even with the stench of sweat and sex and grass. The pollen's fading and Molly is still very comfortable where he is, despite the amount of grass stains covering one entire side of him. Good. That's good. That makes it feel like it was entirely in his control and nothing slipped from his grasp.]