[ Replying would mean failing to focus on the way Molly is sinking down, over and over, working himself full because he wants it, wants Fjord, so the best Fjord manages at first is a shuddering groan into those kisses as he works him from below. He needs both hands for this, he decides, he isn't touching enough of him, dropping onto his back so he has a hand free to cup Molly's cheek and run up through his hair, grasping at soft curls in direct contrast to the lewd slap of flesh as he fucks him in their little tent, side-lit by the dim lamp so that anyone outside will know what they're doing.

Fjord's lips skew in a grin and he bucks for a new angle, wanting to feel how Molly likes it so he can hear him mimic the sounds on all those filthy videos on his onlyfans page. ]

I know how you like it, you don't have to tell me. I've seen it. [ The sultry murmur rides a kiss, promising to follow through. A moment later, Fjord tilts his hips again to slam Molly forward with just the right curve to the thrust, tightening his grip on his hair. ] What were those hashtags, baby? Prostate play? [ Another thrust sinks home, blunt and deep. ] You like to feel like you're gonna come all the time?

[ He didn't subscribe not to take mental notes. ]