[ That tongue dipped inside, rough and yet slick and why did it feel like each lap drew a fire deep within him, an ember that threatened of a raging fire, and all he could do was clutch to seat while his thighs spread even more and his chest dipped lower onto the seat; he was bared so filthily for Bren and that lace, gods that lace stretched tight against him. How could a slip of fabric both bare his pert rosebud and balls for Bren's mouthings to continue and yet trap his arousal unforgivingly against his navel.
He sighed breathlessly as he felt a warm hand cover him, and then that sigh turned into a sweet keening.
But this aching was so good, and despite it all-- he could feel warmth fill him and perhaps that was just the transference of heat; with Bren's excess filtrating Essek's own surfeit so that balance occurred organically. And still, Bren's scent surrounded him, marked him and Essek had a feeling that he would also hold that fragrance around and deep inside.
no subject
He sighed breathlessly as he felt a warm hand cover him, and then that sigh turned into a sweet keening.
But this aching was so good, and despite it all-- he could feel warmth fill him and perhaps that was just the transference of heat; with Bren's excess filtrating Essek's own surfeit so that balance occurred organically. And still, Bren's scent surrounded him, marked him and Essek had a feeling that he would also hold that fragrance around and deep inside.
His consort, his life. ]