Mr Molloy, and Armand trying to play it cool while his breath is coming so much quicker, driving slowly in and out of him. Daniel feels something in him tighten and twitch, every nerve keying in to the feeling of this, hitting the threshold of where fingers started to feel good and going past it into much, much better.

"Purely mechanical?" Breathless. Voice scraping deeper as everything coils in him, and he finds the ability to engage in something besides mindless grasping. "Yeah, I get it. Like that."

(Metronomic, my Rashid / Counting down your thrusts)

"You push in, and the pressure around your dick feels good, and it goes over all my nerve endings to reach the anterior position of a gland that feels good in me, and you pull back, and we both want to fucking die from the removal of it, so you push back in. Hormones change. The brain says, I like that."

Daniel's eyes are almost yellow. Sweat on his temples, his throat, his chest. He is a writer, but he's never tried erotica. Too blunt for it.

"Yeah?"