( Precum smears so easily around the curve of his glans and down his slit, snugged by flesh with every tight stroke. The pleasure splits between every nerve of his, radiant. Even the colors around them within the dream begin to shift and phase so only they exist within the realm itself. To think he'd become this helpless around a stranger, giving himself into that hand. Sunday doesn't think to kiss back, he's too busy gasping, even his halo becomes a display of vibrant lights as it rests behind the back of his head in its solid form. He feels pleasure through it, too.
Whenever he feels the movement between their groins, Sunday's hand traces down Six's whole cock as it is freed, soon guiding it against his down so they're slotting and sliding against one another, gripping both swollen heads together while staring right into his visible eye. )
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Whenever he feels the movement between their groins, Sunday's hand traces down Six's whole cock as it is freed, soon guiding it against his down so they're slotting and sliding against one another, gripping both swollen heads together while staring right into his visible eye. )
I just…