It's almost too much, even for him--that soft skin, the way Felih moves, those hot squeezing walls around his cock, gods, even the pulsing throb of his balls. Every inch of him feels so damned good that Azwel almost fears he'll simply lose his mind. Drop his sapience into this vast sea of sensation and never find it again.
And the energy just pouring off of him sends the array whirling madly, now, the purple arcs snapping and writhing along its axle and around the sphere. Its light flickers around them and a thin, quiet hum fills the air.
If he's at all alarmed at how the array spins so hard that its support structures rattle, at how the collection orb glows blindingly, he doesn't show it, too lost in sensation. He won't stop. He can't stop. He's fallen into a desperate rhythm that almost feels as though it's taken over, that it's moving his body for him, pulling the rest of him along for the ride and hurtling straight for the edge. He has to pull his lips from Felih's so that he can breathe, and drops his head against the other's shoulder as his hips pump frantically, now.
He's not often driven this wild and he'd be a trifle disconcerted were he able to think at all. He's much more self-possessed than this, usually. In control and driving a sexual encounter himself. But this... gods, his blood boils in a manner it hasn't come close to doing in literally decades. He can't get enough. He can't stop....
And his hips buck wildly, driving into Felih as a choked sound tears itself from him and he grips a fistful of the cushion. This release shoots, hot and thick and forceful, into Felih's core and the collection orb flashes and an odd ringing fills the air.
Oh, gods, but he's not done. Oh, no. He keeps moving, slowing down a trifle but still pounding hard into Felih's core, a growling moan in this throat.
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rosecarmine
(no subject)
Date: 2019-05-25 09:07 pm (UTC)And the energy just pouring off of him sends the array whirling madly, now, the purple arcs snapping and writhing along its axle and around the sphere. Its light flickers around them and a thin, quiet hum fills the air.
If he's at all alarmed at how the array spins so hard that its support structures rattle, at how the collection orb glows blindingly, he doesn't show it, too lost in sensation. He won't stop. He can't stop. He's fallen into a desperate rhythm that almost feels as though it's taken over, that it's moving his body for him, pulling the rest of him along for the ride and hurtling straight for the edge. He has to pull his lips from Felih's so that he can breathe, and drops his head against the other's shoulder as his hips pump frantically, now.
He's not often driven this wild and he'd be a trifle disconcerted were he able to think at all. He's much more self-possessed than this, usually. In control and driving a sexual encounter himself. But this... gods, his blood boils in a manner it hasn't come close to doing in literally decades. He can't get enough. He can't stop....
And his hips buck wildly, driving into Felih as a choked sound tears itself from him and he grips a fistful of the cushion. This release shoots, hot and thick and forceful, into Felih's core and the collection orb flashes and an odd ringing fills the air.
Oh, gods, but he's not done. Oh, no. He keeps moving, slowing down a trifle but still pounding hard into Felih's core, a growling moan in this throat.