Koa
There's an art to life's distractions
It might all be corny lines and foolish posturing and the heady talk of youthful vigor, but gods if there isn't something about this seaside rendezvous that's pushing all of Koa's buttons. From the way the sunlight glints off her willing body to the smell of salt and sweat and sex, the young Dragoon is all but drunk with heady need and hot desire, all thoughts of heartache and propriety and past encounters and public indecency replaced with the blinding, pulsing beat of Flora, Flora, Flora.
It doesn't take any more encouragement - indeed, much more of her begging commands and Koa might burst there on the spot, drunk with the thrumming, electric thrill of knowing she wants him. She wants him, not someone else; it's his name moaned out like a prayer, his cock in her hands. Flora wants Koa to fuck her, and Koa?
Well, Koa is more than happy to oblige.
He presses into her, and fuck, if it isn't like finding cool water in the desert heat. A hot, incoherent moan on her neck as Koa lets himself be buried, clenching her hair and holding her close, each place their bare skin touches vibrating as atoms strive to share a space. "You feel so good," he groans fervently, thrusting his emphasis into her core, body picking up an unquenchable rhythm as he begins to fuck in earnest.
The hand on her clit runs down her leg, lifting her hip to give him more access, allow his thrusts to take him deeper into her wet pussy. He's not sure how long he can keep this up for; his brain is already quivering with the static of an impending hormonal storm. Silently, Koa prays for Frey to grant him enough endurance that he can see Flora reach completion before his control totally breaks.
It doesn't take any more encouragement - indeed, much more of her begging commands and Koa might burst there on the spot, drunk with the thrumming, electric thrill of knowing she wants him. She wants him, not someone else; it's his name moaned out like a prayer, his cock in her hands. Flora wants Koa to fuck her, and Koa?
Well, Koa is more than happy to oblige.
He presses into her, and fuck, if it isn't like finding cool water in the desert heat. A hot, incoherent moan on her neck as Koa lets himself be buried, clenching her hair and holding her close, each place their bare skin touches vibrating as atoms strive to share a space. "You feel so good," he groans fervently, thrusting his emphasis into her core, body picking up an unquenchable rhythm as he begins to fuck in earnest.
The hand on her clit runs down her leg, lifting her hip to give him more access, allow his thrusts to take him deeper into her wet pussy. He's not sure how long he can keep this up for; his brain is already quivering with the static of an impending hormonal storm. Silently, Koa prays for Frey to grant him enough endurance that he can see Flora reach completion before his control totally breaks.
To somehow escape the burning weight, the art of scraping through
