[francel, too, slides his hands down and rubs one tantalizing index finger across both of their tips, back and forth, gazing up at aymeric with unabashed longing.]
This is your fault, you know. I was such a good, pure Ishgardian boy before you — nngh —
[he comes quietly, with a soft hiss and a shudder that rocks his spine; it's not the kind of orgasm that tears through him like a near-religious experience, but it feels like a gentle high and francel breathes heavily afterward, eyes closed, catching his breath.]
no subject
This is your fault, you know. I was such a good, pure Ishgardian boy before you — nngh —
[he comes quietly, with a soft hiss and a shudder that rocks his spine; it's not the kind of orgasm that tears through him like a near-religious experience, but it feels like a gentle high and francel breathes heavily afterward, eyes closed, catching his breath.]