[ It's good -- it feels amazing, and incredible - even more so because Sorey and Mikleo are doing this together. Free hand moves to sheets, fingers clenching around them tightly as he muster. Toes curl, Mikleo wanting nothing more than to melt completely and utterly into Sorey's touch.
Still - that heat is almost unbearable. It's only grown hotter in the most intoxicating way possible, curling into his stomach and further settling into his groin. He doesn't break the movement between them despite that, feeling only more motivated to keep that sensation going strong. He can't help but wonder: did Sorey feel this too? Was it as sweetly overwhelming, as good for him , too? ]
Sorey-- Sorey-- [ He calls, reaching to cup face with that hand that had been around sheet, pressing a kiss to lips. ] I'm close. [ He warns. ]
Those words kick something into overdrive, and all at once the need not to finish, but to bring his partner to the swiftest, strongest, most unforgettable orgasm his inexperience can provide grips tight, all-consuming. Sorey's pace quickens; and of course, the effect upon himself in the process isn't able to be ignored or denied, either. ]
M-me--[ case in point, his own fumbling over his words, as though language itself evades him at the moment. That should be most telling of all; though the way the rest inevitably comes out in a rushed ]--metoo--[ of breath only supplements the truth to the statement.
And then, no sooner than that humble admission, it hits. Sorey's forehead all-but-crashes against Mikleo's own, enough where a bed of silver-blue hair only provides so much pillow and he can feel the seraph's circlet. ]
Mikleo... hnn... I'm--[ Interrupting, shuddering takes hold in full as his body lapses into orgasm, hips pushing wantonly into the hand that still feverishly works to ensure he doesn't experience this alone, but that they climax together. ]
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ofseraphim) wrote2017-07-07 09:45 pm
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Still - that heat is almost unbearable. It's only grown hotter in the most intoxicating way possible, curling into his stomach and further settling into his groin. He doesn't break the movement between them despite that, feeling only more motivated to keep that sensation going strong. He can't help but wonder: did Sorey feel this too? Was it as sweetly overwhelming, as good for him , too? ]
Sorey-- Sorey-- [ He calls, reaching to cup face with that hand that had been around sheet, pressing a kiss to lips. ] I'm close. [ He warns. ]
no subject
Those words kick something into overdrive, and all at once the need not to finish, but to bring his partner to the swiftest, strongest, most unforgettable orgasm his inexperience can provide grips tight, all-consuming. Sorey's pace quickens; and of course, the effect upon himself in the process isn't able to be ignored or denied, either. ]
M-me--[ case in point, his own fumbling over his words, as though language itself evades him at the moment. That should be most telling of all; though the way the rest inevitably comes out in a rushed ]--metoo--[ of breath only supplements the truth to the statement.
And then, no sooner than that humble admission, it hits. Sorey's forehead all-but-crashes against Mikleo's own, enough where a bed of silver-blue hair only provides so much pillow and he can feel the seraph's circlet. ]
Mikleo... hnn... I'm--[ Interrupting, shuddering takes hold in full as his body lapses into orgasm, hips pushing wantonly into the hand that still feverishly works to ensure he doesn't experience this alone, but that they climax together. ]