( He wouldn't be able to hold back if he wanted. Every breath is just another rush of hot flashes that light up through his mind, shaking him to the core. His cock is tenderly sensitive as Six ruts fast against him. That cock, those balls of his are heavenly, rolling nicely and smearing everything that jets out of him and over his belly. Sunday grunts softly as he tries to sync himself to him, eyes closed and legs spread widely like a true slut holding onto his bearings. The House probably likes him like this, it's quite the initiation that finally puts to rest that underlying fear. The voices. The distant spaces creeping in on him just like the memoria swallowing Penacony.
Yet he still doesn't allow himself to moan or cry out as loud. Instead, he slides a hand between them to join in on the gradual strokes. Their cockheads are so neatly packed together like this, dripping with Sunday's cum. Now if only Six would also make a mess of himself, Sunday would like to see it so he tightens his grip around their heads to use everything he has left in him to jerk him against his. )
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Yet he still doesn't allow himself to moan or cry out as loud. Instead, he slides a hand between them to join in on the gradual strokes. Their cockheads are so neatly packed together like this, dripping with Sunday's cum. Now if only Six would also make a mess of himself, Sunday would like to see it so he tightens his grip around their heads to use everything he has left in him to jerk him against his. )
The dream is fading, hurry.