[ The demon isn't particularly invested in whether or not Kleken is sincere about his timidity or weaving a false narrative just for kicks. He doesn't put much stock into the personalities of others to begin with, and never to the point of taking offense when he's being strung along. ( Unless it interferes with his plans. That's another story. ) Not when he habitually misleads those around him — In pursuit of obtaining what he wants, to teach someone a lesson or simply for the sake of getting a reaction out of someone.
If it means walking away with one more thing checked off his list, Kleken could proclaim himself to be The House in disguise and J would play along. ]
Do read all the fine print of your message. It'd be a shame if you weren't fully prepared for what to expect here. [ The one thing the resort has in common with Hell is its vague notion of a hierarchical structure, where those on the bottom are outright bullied while the higher ranks live a life of luxury. Just in the last few months alone, the guests with accommodations in the basement have suffered infestations of monstrous bugs, a level of flooding that nearly submerged their rooms and plenty of hauntings. If The House doesn't take a shine to Kleken enough to keep him from being housed downstairs, J wonders if he's resilient enough to handle it.
Oh, well. Back to business. ]
I think I've got an idea of how to keep someone as bashful as you from getting too embarrassed. [ That pesky knot holding Kleken's trousers in place would take a few minutes to undo, but J suddenly has an idea that's better than fumbling with it. Shifting forward he runs both hands up Kleken's legs, working their way over thighs and then the front of his companion's swim trunks.
With J's exceptional height, even sitting as he is, Kleken's hips are still slightly below eye level. But J accommodates himself by rounding his shoulders and leaning in. His hands have been at work, warming Kleken up to the advancement of J's touch as they brazenly stroke over the outline of his cock. But when J adds his mouth to the mix, it's another sensation entirely. His gaze flicks upward to gauge his companion's reaction as the steady caress of one hand shifts into a more determined touch, with fingers wrapping around him to pump in earnest at the base while the flat of J's tongue traces a path up his clothed length. ]
( cw: NSFW. Oral + clothed sex. )
If it means walking away with one more thing checked off his list, Kleken could proclaim himself to be The House in disguise and J would play along. ]
Do read all the fine print of your message. It'd be a shame if you weren't fully prepared for what to expect here. [ The one thing the resort has in common with Hell is its vague notion of a hierarchical structure, where those on the bottom are outright bullied while the higher ranks live a life of luxury. Just in the last few months alone, the guests with accommodations in the basement have suffered infestations of monstrous bugs, a level of flooding that nearly submerged their rooms and plenty of hauntings. If The House doesn't take a shine to Kleken enough to keep him from being housed downstairs, J wonders if he's resilient enough to handle it.
Oh, well. Back to business. ]
I think I've got an idea of how to keep someone as bashful as you from getting too embarrassed. [ That pesky knot holding Kleken's trousers in place would take a few minutes to undo, but J suddenly has an idea that's better than fumbling with it. Shifting forward he runs both hands up Kleken's legs, working their way over thighs and then the front of his companion's swim trunks.
With J's exceptional height, even sitting as he is, Kleken's hips are still slightly below eye level. But J accommodates himself by rounding his shoulders and leaning in. His hands have been at work, warming Kleken up to the advancement of J's touch as they brazenly stroke over the outline of his cock. But when J adds his mouth to the mix, it's another sensation entirely. His gaze flicks upward to gauge his companion's reaction as the steady caress of one hand shifts into a more determined touch, with fingers wrapping around him to pump in earnest at the base while the flat of J's tongue traces a path up his clothed length. ]