[ It's frankly embarrassing how ready he is to blow his load already.
Like -- this is hardly his first rodeo? Sure, he hasn't been sexually active long, but the nature of this stupid place and its games means he's had enough rolls in the hay, he thinks, to be more acclimated to these things. -- maybe it's because of this dumb transformation. Yeah, that's gotta be it. The way his whole body seems to roil hotter than usual, a pervasive heat constantly bubbling up from the pit of his stomach to pour through his nerves all the way to the tips of his extremities, that's why he's already panting from the effort of holding back.
It's less that Fuuta starts feeling more comfortable with this arrangement, and more that his self-control starts unraveling after a certain point; there's no way he can keep holding back like he has so far when each thrust into her feels so good. Indeed, it's not long at all before his movements are starting to grow a little sloppy and desperate, conscious thoughts of wanting to look composed melting before the overwhelming pleasure. Most telling is the way that Fuuta dips his head back in -- not for another kiss, but to latch his mouth against the pale of Kiritsubo's skin, at that junction where throat meets shoulder, and bite.
It's not truly violent; even with his sharpened teeth, it's not a bite hard enough to break through skin, certainly not enough to cause any damage. But it's enough to prickle, especially with the way his breaths are huffed hot against that spit-slick skin. Starting to succumb to the pure rhythm of the motions, Fuuta nips at her shoulder with each hasty thrust; his tail, too, winds tighter around her leg, just enough to start to ache at the muscles there, and it serves as a warning for what's to come when the pressure eases off, then ratchets tighter.
To his minimum credit, Fuuta has just enough mental wherewithal to withdraw his mouth from around Kiritsubo's neck, instead lunging forward to bite hard at a mouthful of the bedsheets -- a burst of flames whispering from past clenched teeth as he thrusts as deep into her as he can go and climaxes. There's no real danger of a fire, that mouthful of fabric burning in his mouth before the embers are squelched by his own spit, but even so, the heat radiates. Both from that burnt spot and from inside, as Fuuta's cock twitches with each rope of release spilled inside her, intensely warm and viscous.
The tension in his body's slow to fade, shudders working through from his core to his limbs as the waves of orgasm work through him, and for a long moment, all he can do is lay atop Kiritsubo, luxuriating in the overwhelming sensation. ]
i can't believe you went on a cruise and didn't even bring me back a fancy umbrella drink ... π
Like -- this is hardly his first rodeo? Sure, he hasn't been sexually active long, but the nature of this stupid place and its games means he's had enough rolls in the hay, he thinks, to be more acclimated to these things. -- maybe it's because of this dumb transformation. Yeah, that's gotta be it. The way his whole body seems to roil hotter than usual, a pervasive heat constantly bubbling up from the pit of his stomach to pour through his nerves all the way to the tips of his extremities, that's why he's already panting from the effort of holding back.
It's less that Fuuta starts feeling more comfortable with this arrangement, and more that his self-control starts unraveling after a certain point; there's no way he can keep holding back like he has so far when each thrust into her feels so good. Indeed, it's not long at all before his movements are starting to grow a little sloppy and desperate, conscious thoughts of wanting to look composed melting before the overwhelming pleasure. Most telling is the way that Fuuta dips his head back in -- not for another kiss, but to latch his mouth against the pale of Kiritsubo's skin, at that junction where throat meets shoulder, and bite.
It's not truly violent; even with his sharpened teeth, it's not a bite hard enough to break through skin, certainly not enough to cause any damage. But it's enough to prickle, especially with the way his breaths are huffed hot against that spit-slick skin. Starting to succumb to the pure rhythm of the motions, Fuuta nips at her shoulder with each hasty thrust; his tail, too, winds tighter around her leg, just enough to start to ache at the muscles there, and it serves as a warning for what's to come when the pressure eases off, then ratchets tighter.
To his minimum credit, Fuuta has just enough mental wherewithal to withdraw his mouth from around Kiritsubo's neck, instead lunging forward to bite hard at a mouthful of the bedsheets -- a burst of flames whispering from past clenched teeth as he thrusts as deep into her as he can go and climaxes. There's no real danger of a fire, that mouthful of fabric burning in his mouth before the embers are squelched by his own spit, but even so, the heat radiates. Both from that burnt spot and from inside, as Fuuta's cock twitches with each rope of release spilled inside her, intensely warm and viscous.
The tension in his body's slow to fade, shudders working through from his core to his limbs as the waves of orgasm work through him, and for a long moment, all he can do is lay atop Kiritsubo, luxuriating in the overwhelming sensation. ]