what have I done

Remi inhaled a sharp breath as Isla's fingers wrapped around him, as if her unbuttoning and wandering fingers hadn't been indication enough of what to expect. Even so, his eyes were drawn to her other hand which had made its way into her mouth. It was enough to feel her tongue upon the pads of his fingers while she worked his length with her other hand, but as her teeth broke the surface of his skin Remi gasped loudly and all coherent thought and and formative arguments about just how absurd it was that they should find themselves in this position were dissolved. As she dropped his hand away, for a moment it hung in the air, caught in an invisible tug of war between the last lingering whispers of the gentle and kind man that he (used to be) (was) (should be), and what had been a building desire ever since her lips had first brushed his wrist. Moaning, Remi allowed his eyes to droop closed as his pinned his lower lip between his teeth. He didn't even try to make himself relax or resist the compounding pressure that Isla's tongue and lips and teeth and hands were coaxing expertly towards climax. Moaning something that vaguely sounded like her name as her tongue drove him over the edge, Remi's hands suddenly turned into claws that cut the fabric of the arm rests into ribbons as his body arched and tensed with his release. REMI What have I become? My sweetest friend—Everyone I know goes away in the end If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself. I would find a way