[He loves that voice. He wants to hear more of it, draw it out, but he's already caused him to spill everywhere. Guren still strokes a few more times, letting him ride out that pleasure before his hand stops, a sticky mess that he doesn't mind at all.
It works out, since his own heart is racing from the pleasure rising in his own chest. The sound he makes is like a cut off moan, after a few more strokes, when he comes hard over Dextera's stomach. His messy hand has already moved, grabbing at Dextera's arm and creating an accidental spread of nasty there, too, but he can't focus on that.
He's lost in the pleasure, on the heavy way he's breathing and the heat between their bodies, and he closes the distance between their lips again, kissing him desperately. He liked it. He loved it. He wants more of this, he doesn't want to lose this. All of this, he hopes, gets across.]
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It works out, since his own heart is racing from the pleasure rising in his own chest. The sound he makes is like a cut off moan, after a few more strokes, when he comes hard over Dextera's stomach. His messy hand has already moved, grabbing at Dextera's arm and creating an accidental spread of nasty there, too, but he can't focus on that.
He's lost in the pleasure, on the heavy way he's breathing and the heat between their bodies, and he closes the distance between their lips again, kissing him desperately. He liked it. He loved it. He wants more of this, he doesn't want to lose this. All of this, he hopes, gets across.]