[he'd stumble if he had the room. no, he's trapped pressed against the shape of Zephir, knees nearly buckling and hands reaching to grab, grab at anything - arms, shoulders, hair. heat floods him all over again and a gasp catches in his throat, precome dripping from his aching cock. the letters of plenty of words hang on his tongue: n, s, a hissed out, hips betraying the resistance his mouth tries to make.
magic pulses back when August's eyes flutter shut. he doesn't want to watch this, but he's seen worse. hasn't he? he's seen worse. Zephir's fingers dig into his skin and half of him stays alert to what's happening while the other half is lost and at Zephir's disposal. his body has been going through whiplash; the mixtures of pleasure and pain, of still running high with adrenaline and the hunger for a constant release.
the closer to climax he gets, the more erratic the demons become. they want his body and if they can't have it they'll at least get to eat the mind it came from. through short gasps and heady groans, it barely takes anything for August to come and still want more, cock hard and throbbing like nothing is enough. he's exhausted and whining, disgusted at the image he's created yet still so terribly hot for more. he can't help his sensitivity, leaning back against the shape purely for more contact of anything, of the warmth he's helplessly chasing.]
yap city
magic pulses back when August's eyes flutter shut. he doesn't want to watch this, but he's seen worse. hasn't he? he's seen worse. Zephir's fingers dig into his skin and half of him stays alert to what's happening while the other half is lost and at Zephir's disposal. his body has been going through whiplash; the mixtures of pleasure and pain, of still running high with adrenaline and the hunger for a constant release.
the closer to climax he gets, the more erratic the demons become. they want his body and if they can't have it they'll at least get to eat the mind it came from. through short gasps and heady groans, it barely takes anything for August to come and still want more, cock hard and throbbing like nothing is enough. he's exhausted and whining, disgusted at the image he's created yet still so terribly hot for more. he can't help his sensitivity, leaning back against the shape purely for more contact of anything, of the warmth he's helplessly chasing.]