Every panting breath comes out a moan, and he pushes his head back into the pillows, white-knuckled hands gripping Glitch's hips and encouraging him to keep moving, don't stop, never stop, even as his own hips keep rolling. He can't stop, can't take his eyes away from the shiny, soft curls dangling in front of Glitch's face, from the long expanse of his neck and his pale chest and pink, pointy nipples to his flat tummy and the dark, silky curls framing his cock and balls, to his legs and his arms and his gorgeous, strong hands.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2009-09-03 07:19 am (UTC)Breathtaking.
Beautiful.
"Glitch. Yes. Yes."