wrong way home

james

smoking kills

It was rough, the way Sam's teeth snarled into his neck, but any upset on the thief's part was quickly extinguished by the feeling of pure F U C K racing through his system. Tilting his head back against the rock with a happy groan of pleasure, the hand holding the bottle drops it if only to fumble weakly at the buttons on Sam's shirt. It's a half-hearted gesture at best, James' hand already working on a rapidly-hardening erection.

Dizzy with delight, his hand moving furiously up and down his cock as his toes curl, it's only the fading sensation in his fingers that give the thief any warning that perhaps the ginger is going a bit fast. "o...y..." He moans, hardly able to form the words with how sluggish his lips have become. The orgasm which had been just within his grasp (pardon the pun), now seemed unfairly far away. As blood rushed into his core that it might keep his body running, the sensation of pleasure masked the signs that heralded the beginning of the end.

but so does love.