Inbox

[crabbmarche]

Inbox

video⬤ audio ⬤ text ⬤ delivery

SPY ⬤ Team Fortress 2
residential district ⬤ level 2

moonblessing ⬤ Cordis (Exalted; Kitsune)

info
⬤ permissions & kinklist

Comments

[crabbmarche]

[Maybe he should have saved this for later. The ferocity of the kiss stuns him for a moment, his hands freezing in place against Engineer's skin.

But he committed to this. And given the intensity of the moons, he doubts it will end here, anyway. So he continues down onto his knees, settling in comfortably before hooking his fingers under the elastic and pulls down, exposing his dick to the open air. It has been a while since he's done this, but it's not rocket science. He just needs to take it slow (or as slow as he can with a massive horned and horny dude towering over him).

His gloved palm presses firmly around the base and he hums quietly.]

I assure you, you won't complain either way.

[Spy licks his lips, leaning in to kiss Engineer's hip, working his way down while his hand slowly slides up his length.]

[spah]

[Sorry, Spy. Sanguis gets Engineer... needier than usual. And hornier, but that's obvious.

A sharp breath rasps out of him as his dick springs free, still desperately hard and throbbing at the sudden sensation of open air (he really is needy, christ), but thankful to have it out of its denim constraints. The merc stares down at Spy and that peak of tongue with a hazy grin. His cock already twitches in the other's hand, and the kiss sends as much of a shiver up him as the hand up his length does. The merc sighs even harsher - breath eventually dissolving into a low, gravely moan.

One hand stays gripped on the desk while another settles on top of Spy's head. Probably a bad idea. Knowing himself when he's like this, he's vaguely aware through the haze settling in his mind that he could pull at Spy's mask by mistake.

So for now, despite the burst of ferocity a moment ago, he leans back against the desk, spreads his legs a little farther and forces himself to relax. Thoughts of bending Spy against the desk and railing him in front of rows of empty desks had played through his head over and over again for the past hour, but he still knew better than to go too rough... assuming he had any impulse control left after this.

Spy's right, though. He's definitely not complaining.]