The breathlessness that followed Aoba's ecstatic cry gave way, soon enough, to the return of laughter. Now it was more like wheezy snickering, though, as the man sagged into the mattress, legs still up in an ungraceful 'V', a calf braced against each of Declan's broad, white shoulders. Desire, for one, had no compunctions about looking across the length of himself, taking in the exposed position he found himself in, and pleased by the spit-slicked and spent look of his dick.
He didn't even care enough to mind that it hadn't lasted all that long, considering. Finally he had gotten some.
"You kinky bastard," he chortled up at Declan, combing his own faintly-sweaty hair back from his face with both hands in order to improve his view of the Guardian. "Of course you're a control freak."
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He didn't even care enough to mind that it hadn't lasted all that long, considering. Finally he had gotten some.
"You kinky bastard," he chortled up at Declan, combing his own faintly-sweaty hair back from his face with both hands in order to improve his view of the Guardian. "Of course you're a control freak."