Having sex with Frey was not, as those who have done it, quite like anything else. This is probably to be expected given their jurisdiction and all, but even so, the metaphysics of what the god had to offer were decidedly unpredictable but no less satisfying.
The air and milky-sea below seemed to meld into one as gravity took a brief timeout. The world itself was exactly Loren's body temperature leaving his limbs like unimportant extensions of himself. It was then that Frey seemed to disappear, only that didn't mean the Launceleyn would stop experiencing them with his senses. Instead Frey was instead of Loren; was Loren. In every synapse fired in his brain, ever duplicating cell, every muscle twitch and sensory receptor had been fully taken over. It would be one thing to simply turn Loren on his stomach and fuck him until he begged for it to stop. It was another entirely to do it to his entire being.
The feeling for the summoner would be a totally of experience, an overwhelming and indecipherable rush. In the hours and days later he'd not be able to articulate where it was Frey had been, other than simply to say everywhere. Hands that weren't corporeal grabbed at his ass, an arm slid beneath his thighs to grab at his lower back. Fingers parted his lips pressing down on his tongue, even as tongues and teeth nibbled at earlobes and nipples. Fingers scraped through his hair, some tugging the blonde tufts while others simply curled around the back of his head, pulling and pulling him further into the god. There was pressure against the balls of Loren's feet, hands kneading the often unforgotten flesh there as well as his palms. Untethered though Loren was, still fingertips splayed through his, stretching his arms wide of his head as teeth trickled down his neck and chest, splitting and duplicating to both continue this downwards trajectory but also to stop at each nipple.
The air and milky-sea below seemed to meld into one as gravity took a brief timeout. The world itself was exactly Loren's body temperature leaving his limbs like unimportant extensions of himself. It was then that Frey seemed to disappear, only that didn't mean the Launceleyn would stop experiencing them with his senses. Instead Frey was instead of Loren; was Loren. In every synapse fired in his brain, ever duplicating cell, every muscle twitch and sensory receptor had been fully taken over. It would be one thing to simply turn Loren on his stomach and fuck him until he begged for it to stop. It was another entirely to do it to his entire being.
The feeling for the summoner would be a totally of experience, an overwhelming and indecipherable rush. In the hours and days later he'd not be able to articulate where it was Frey had been, other than simply to say everywhere. Hands that weren't corporeal grabbed at his ass, an arm slid beneath his thighs to grab at his lower back. Fingers parted his lips pressing down on his tongue, even as tongues and teeth nibbled at earlobes and nipples. Fingers scraped through his hair, some tugging the blonde tufts while others simply curled around the back of his head, pulling and pulling him further into the god. There was pressure against the balls of Loren's feet, hands kneading the often unforgotten flesh there as well as his palms. Untethered though Loren was, still fingertips splayed through his, stretching his arms wide of his head as teeth trickled down his neck and chest, splitting and duplicating to both continue this downwards trajectory but also to stop at each nipple.
