[ He's vaguely reminded of those threads he'd see on Twitter now and again back home, where people would shittalk their sexual partners, talking about how bad they were at it. He'd always thought of it as kind of trashy -- sex is something private, after all, so why air that dirty laundry out to the public, even if it's anonymized? There's no way any sex could be so bad that it would be worth talking about with total strangers.
-- anyway, he's learning now that sex bad enough to merit online shittalking very much exists. And he is being subject to it right now. ]
Yeah, and it only feels good for you, jackass!
[ That's not entirely true. Between the skewers' effects and the periodic, random thrust that manages to brush past his sweet spot, his cock's still wobbling half-hard from the jerky movements. But in a way that's even worse than if he'd gone completely soft; the hope that maybe things might get a little better keeps him from just disengaging and leaving.
Embarrassingly, when he feels those quickened breaths glossing against his back, Fuuta's first bleary thought is that feels kind of nice. The heat, and the tactile sensation of skin on skin. God, this could feel so good if it was someone else. -- but alas, it isn't! His bunny-poisoned brain does realize afterwards that at least it sounds like this won't last much longer, and so Fuuta grits his teeth as he endures.
He's definitely not going to be getting off like this, which means in petty payback, he refuses to let any more escape him until this is done. ]
no subject
-- anyway, he's learning now that sex bad enough to merit online shittalking very much exists. And he is being subject to it right now. ]
Yeah, and it only feels good for you, jackass!
[ That's not entirely true. Between the skewers' effects and the periodic, random thrust that manages to brush past his sweet spot, his cock's still wobbling half-hard from the jerky movements. But in a way that's even worse than if he'd gone completely soft; the hope that maybe things might get a little better keeps him from just disengaging and leaving.
Embarrassingly, when he feels those quickened breaths glossing against his back, Fuuta's first bleary thought is that feels kind of nice. The heat, and the tactile sensation of skin on skin. God, this could feel so good if it was someone else. -- but alas, it isn't! His bunny-poisoned brain does realize afterwards that at least it sounds like this won't last much longer, and so Fuuta grits his teeth as he endures.
He's definitely not going to be getting off like this, which means in petty payback, he refuses to let any more escape him until this is done. ]