[the sounds Emery makes are fit to make Zel hard all over again, but this isn't about him anymore. to appease his needy writhing, he moves his hands to his waistband (not without the tease of being careful, however) and, once another grind is lifting him up enough, eases his trousers and underwear down to expose his dick to the air.
while gently nipping and sucking on his neck, Zel's fingers trail back to find him waiting there, fingertips lightly trailing along his shaft before slowly closing around it in a delicate, unintentionally teasing grip; he'd hate to grab too hard at once in a misjudgment of sensitivity.]
Tell me...what's too much. Or too little. Whatever you say goes.
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while gently nipping and sucking on his neck, Zel's fingers trail back to find him waiting there, fingertips lightly trailing along his shaft before slowly closing around it in a delicate, unintentionally teasing grip; he'd hate to grab too hard at once in a misjudgment of sensitivity.]
Tell me...what's too much. Or too little. Whatever you say goes.