[ He knew Molly would be good at this. Fjord is reduced to a panting mess above him as he rides that forked tongue, fingers slipping off one horn and into curls to grasp and show his appreciation, petting the gorgeous man devoted to sucking his cock. Shivers race through him each time Molly lets Fjord go a little farther into the tight squeeze of his throat, able to make him come if he stands there much longer and, as blissful as it is, he wants far more tonight: if he's allowed it. ]
Molls ... Molly, that's enough, don't make me come like this. Get up here.
[ Tugging on horns and hair each, desperate to have him without kissing distance. He could lose his mind and let things continue as they are but that feels too one-sided for them, this isn't transactional or purely physical; he wants to be with Molly, not just his mouth. ]
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Molls ... Molly, that's enough, don't make me come like this. Get up here.
[ Tugging on horns and hair each, desperate to have him without kissing distance. He could lose his mind and let things continue as they are but that feels too one-sided for them, this isn't transactional or purely physical; he wants to be with Molly, not just his mouth. ]