[Abbacchio's hair is already wild and closer to wool than it is really hair, and the static that's running from Avdol doesn't make it any better. Honestly, though, he doesn't care. He feels so warm, and his skin prickles delightfully instead as the tendrils cling and suck at his skin.
Adoringly, he tips his head into the hand petting down his face, but he goes rigid at the remark. Fuck, what a thing to say. It feels like Avdol's started a fire in his blood, and he's squeezing his hip, bucking harder, his hips slapping loudly against the other man. It already feels good, but it really does feel like Avdol's gripping him from the inside, pulling him in.]
Yeah? Haa. You can have as much of it as you want. [So he gives a few more quick jackrabbit thrusts.] Like that.
[If anything, it just fires him up. Abbacchio leans his head down, and he breathes in sharp through his nose as he smells Avdol's throat.] You need it hard like that, Mohammed?
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Adoringly, he tips his head into the hand petting down his face, but he goes rigid at the remark. Fuck, what a thing to say. It feels like Avdol's started a fire in his blood, and he's squeezing his hip, bucking harder, his hips slapping loudly against the other man. It already feels good, but it really does feel like Avdol's gripping him from the inside, pulling him in.]
Yeah? Haa. You can have as much of it as you want. [So he gives a few more quick jackrabbit thrusts.] Like that.
[If anything, it just fires him up. Abbacchio leans his head down, and he breathes in sharp through his nose as he smells Avdol's throat.] You need it hard like that, Mohammed?