[ Fjord absolutely lives for the way Molly cries his name when he comes, jerking him off through the rising and waning tides of pleasure until they're both a panting mess in a big sticky, sweaty heap of their own making. He lets a breathy laugh escape against a neck, sliding his hand up between them to smear their come in a mindless swirl, painting lovely lavender skin with it. ]
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You're pretty always ...