[ His tempo stutters when Molly gives him permission to move faster, a breathless oh thank fuck ruffling into the tiefling's hair with a laugh. His grip returns to a pair of hips and Fjord settles his weight back on his knees for the first thrust that knocks his own breath out, growling approval as he picks up the pace with a creaking of bedsprings.
A low groan leaves him, getting to see where he takes Molly and run a hand over the curve of his spine, wanting to touch him everywhere. It's almost surreal to be inside him, his friend turned lover. ]
no subject
A low groan leaves him, getting to see where he takes Molly and run a hand over the curve of his spine, wanting to touch him everywhere. It's almost surreal to be inside him, his friend turned lover. ]
Molls, fuck ...