[ It's not even like he's deliberately trying to be rude (for once). It's just -- his thoughts still feel mushy, his head still spinning as the aftershocks of the orgasm finish sliding down his spine, and Fuuta squirms when he feels Charlie's hand pull away from his cock to smear the mess on his hand, instead. A part of him's pissed about that, he thinks. This whole mess is already going to be a pain to clean up, but he just has to make it worse? But mortifyingly, a greater part of him kind of wishes that hand stayed there, cold or not.
Climaxing once has taken the worst of the edge off the dizzying high of whatever had been in those drinks, but it'd be a lie to say he's completely calmed down. At least he can think a bit straighter now, his thoughts no longer dominated by that blinding hunger for stimulation above all else, but his nerves do still itch -- something he can't quite hide. His gaze lingers for a moment too long on Charlie's lips, slick as they still are with spit, and when he feels that thumb brushing against his shoulder, he shudders, his next breath coming shaky.
It takes him far too much effort just to muster words. ]
Get offa me. [ His words are still coming a little rough around the edges, and Fuuta's movements are stiff as he tries to scoot away from Charlie's weight, a hand weakly braced against the couch cushions as he turns away. ] M' fine now. I just ... needed a moment. I'm good now.
no subject
Nn ... jus' shut up for a second.
[ It's not even like he's deliberately trying to be rude (for once). It's just -- his thoughts still feel mushy, his head still spinning as the aftershocks of the orgasm finish sliding down his spine, and Fuuta squirms when he feels Charlie's hand pull away from his cock to smear the mess on his hand, instead. A part of him's pissed about that, he thinks. This whole mess is already going to be a pain to clean up, but he just has to make it worse? But mortifyingly, a greater part of him kind of wishes that hand stayed there, cold or not.
Climaxing once has taken the worst of the edge off the dizzying high of whatever had been in those drinks, but it'd be a lie to say he's completely calmed down. At least he can think a bit straighter now, his thoughts no longer dominated by that blinding hunger for stimulation above all else, but his nerves do still itch -- something he can't quite hide. His gaze lingers for a moment too long on Charlie's lips, slick as they still are with spit, and when he feels that thumb brushing against his shoulder, he shudders, his next breath coming shaky.
It takes him far too much effort just to muster words. ]
Get offa me. [ His words are still coming a little rough around the edges, and Fuuta's movements are stiff as he tries to scoot away from Charlie's weight, a hand weakly braced against the couch cushions as he turns away. ] M' fine now. I just ... needed a moment. I'm good now.