[ Oh, that sight helps, as does the kiss that leaves him with the start of a moan in his throat. His gaze rakes over Molly as he leaves and Fjord shoves his pants down to his knees, starting to feel that burn in his blood for the touch of his mate. He opens his phone to a silenced video of Molly (audio is kindly provided from the other room) and gets hard to the sight of him fingering himself open, hot red eyes batting over a shoulder; Fjord is more focused on how well that pretty ass takes those fingers, letting a series of groans out at the memory of being inside. His wet fist is a poor substitute but the ridges on his shaft appreciate the slickness, thickening until he's throbbing in his own fist, precome smearing down with his thumb.
He switches off the video and sits up a little, trying to look more nonchalant than he feels with a solid handful of his own dick in their well-lit living room. After a glance at the supplies ensconced behind a pillow nearby, he clears his throat to call out in a lower, rougher voice than usual. ]
no subject
He switches off the video and sits up a little, trying to look more nonchalant than he feels with a solid handful of his own dick in their well-lit living room. After a glance at the supplies ensconced behind a pillow nearby, he clears his throat to call out in a lower, rougher voice than usual. ]
Come on in, baby.