[Tighter? Oh, Avdol can do tighter. Legs tighter, vicelike, fingernails digging in more and scraping little ruts for how he gets jostled about, more and more tendrils drifting up en masse to stick and gently snap away from the force of everything, everything tighter tighter tighter. Of course he clenches more too, desperately, hazily ruing the fact that he somehow hadn't exercised the right muscles to keep Abbacchio's cock inside him, to be just as snug a fit as he'd want, but damn if he's not still putting in his best effort.
There's skin starting to pill up under his fingernails now, wet, sticky lines as he absolutely fucking howls and curls his toes, building up to both yet another bone-rattling orgasm and The Worst Cramp Of All Time. Who cares, though? Who cares? Right now, the world is just this, just them, no one else even enters Avdol's mind because he really is completely, wholly Abbacchio's, strobing from head to toe for him just to draw him in even closer, precum starting to trickle over his belly and down his side in imitation of the thin saliva at the corners of his mouth whenever he tosses it to one side. Yeah, that's right, ya boy drools when the dick is that bomb, that's just how it is.
It's just constant, open-mouthed, tensed-up rapture now, noise tearing out of his throat on a subconscious level as he clings desperately onto Abbacchio and tries in vain to to lovingly slur his name between each raw sound. Definitely for the best that he lives alone now, to be honest.]
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There's skin starting to pill up under his fingernails now, wet, sticky lines as he absolutely fucking howls and curls his toes, building up to both yet another bone-rattling orgasm and The Worst Cramp Of All Time. Who cares, though? Who cares? Right now, the world is just this, just them, no one else even enters Avdol's mind because he really is completely, wholly Abbacchio's, strobing from head to toe for him just to draw him in even closer, precum starting to trickle over his belly and down his side in imitation of the thin saliva at the corners of his mouth whenever he tosses it to one side. Yeah, that's right, ya boy drools when the dick is that bomb, that's just how it is.
It's just constant, open-mouthed, tensed-up rapture now, noise tearing out of his throat on a subconscious level as he clings desperately onto Abbacchio and tries in vain to to lovingly slur his name between each raw sound. Definitely for the best that he lives alone now, to be honest.]