[ If Riddle thought it was too much, that he couldn't handle it before, it just gets to a whole other level of overwhelming, of too much. The pace picked up again, much like the pace he'd had when riding him so haphazardly, and yet... faster. Harder.
He can't speak anymore, not when it's like this. Both of his arms wrap around Floyd, nails digging in hard against his back, clawing into him as if to keep himself grounded among his own noises and cries.
... He'd be lucky if the rest of the dorm didn't know what happened behind his door today. And if they knew? They'd best keep their damn mouths shut about it.
Riddle wants to respond, wants to tell him that if this is a dream, then don't wake him up-- but he can't. He can barely even think enough to hold himself together. Not when he's seeing stars, when his body is tensing, his hands clutching onto Floyd so tightly.
It's not subtle, even if he still had his underwear on, the way he reaches his climax. A wet, sticky patch forms at the front of him, surely making worse of a mess of him. He'll feel gross later, once he's come down from this high, with the sweat making his shirt stick to him, the cum in his underwear against his body.
For now, he clings hard to Floyd, trembling under it all. ]
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He can't speak anymore, not when it's like this. Both of his arms wrap around Floyd, nails digging in hard against his back, clawing into him as if to keep himself grounded among his own noises and cries.
... He'd be lucky if the rest of the dorm didn't know what happened behind his door today. And if they knew? They'd best keep their damn mouths shut about it.
Riddle wants to respond, wants to tell him that if this is a dream, then don't wake him up-- but he can't. He can barely even think enough to hold himself together. Not when he's seeing stars, when his body is tensing, his hands clutching onto Floyd so tightly.
It's not subtle, even if he still had his underwear on, the way he reaches his climax. A wet, sticky patch forms at the front of him, surely making worse of a mess of him. He'll feel gross later, once he's come down from this high, with the sweat making his shirt stick to him, the cum in his underwear against his body.
For now, he clings hard to Floyd, trembling under it all. ]