[ The praise, the touch to his wet, hard flesh and Fjord's endless reverence and desire for him draws Molly towards the edge once more. He's so hyperaware of it all, the feeling of their bodies, the stretch of that cock inside him, the ridges on it hitting all the best spots - but also the feeling of ruined lace hanging off his hips, barely holding in anything, stockings with holes opening up after being raked by those lovely green hands and the absolute mess of the sheets.
He's a poster boy for hedonism and reveling in all of it, from being desired and wanted, to giving up control to Fjord and knowing nothing will go wrong as he does. Molly feels like the god he claimed to be, the rush of just being his best filthy self while so utterly adored taking his breath away.
Another of those amazing thrusts and the possessive, raunchy request from his boyfriend, he tips over and comes - Fjord's name shaking the rafters from his yowl of ecstasy. ]
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He's a poster boy for hedonism and reveling in all of it, from being desired and wanted, to giving up control to Fjord and knowing nothing will go wrong as he does. Molly feels like the god he claimed to be, the rush of just being his best filthy self while so utterly adored taking his breath away.
Another of those amazing thrusts and the possessive, raunchy request from his boyfriend, he tips over and comes - Fjord's name shaking the rafters from his yowl of ecstasy. ]