[Letting his hand fall away from Mettaton's face in order to facilitate the removal of his clothes (and with the robot fully behind him, it wasn't exactly comfortable anyway), his torso is left bare to the open air. Air that wasn't quite chilly, but he shivers all the same, and is encouraged to lean back for him.
Beyond the fresh scarring above his heart, there's the sign of lesser injuries on the mage's body. Bruises that were turning towards the greenish-yellow were scattered across him, along with patches of scabbing. Places where fur had grown, and that he'd torn out. None of it was serious, but it added a bit of soreness to him.
Which he's not thinking of too clearly when Mettaton was kissing his neck, when he could feel his body against skin, a sensation he stretches into with a small sound.]
I would do more than encourage. More and more that....
[--would they even be able to fulfill? Emet-Selch can't help but recall that unfortunate aspect of their combination currently. It wouldn't be for the first time, but for far longer than otherwise, Mettaton had been more than able to match him in the ability to demonstrate arousal. He looks down towards the bed, even as he rests against his body.]
You'll have to learn to shapeshift properly. Soon.
[Mettaton wouldn't be the only one frustrated, at this rate. Though he would admit that the former-puca would have it worse, in not having a cock at all... he wouldn't pretend otherwise that so much of his own pleasure was tied up in the robot's. Not only when it came with the sensation of being filled by him, but just being in the company of his aroused state was enticing.
Though Emet-Selch was already getting hard, a firming line notable within his trousers, he tried to temper his expectations. Which mostly led to a dampening of them, in actuality, and his exhale is as sad as it is interested.]
no subject
Beyond the fresh scarring above his heart, there's the sign of lesser injuries on the mage's body. Bruises that were turning towards the greenish-yellow were scattered across him, along with patches of scabbing. Places where fur had grown, and that he'd torn out. None of it was serious, but it added a bit of soreness to him.
Which he's not thinking of too clearly when Mettaton was kissing his neck, when he could feel his body against skin, a sensation he stretches into with a small sound.]
I would do more than encourage. More and more that....
[--would they even be able to fulfill? Emet-Selch can't help but recall that unfortunate aspect of their combination currently. It wouldn't be for the first time, but for far longer than otherwise, Mettaton had been more than able to match him in the ability to demonstrate arousal. He looks down towards the bed, even as he rests against his body.]
You'll have to learn to shapeshift properly. Soon.
[Mettaton wouldn't be the only one frustrated, at this rate. Though he would admit that the former-puca would have it worse, in not having a cock at all... he wouldn't pretend otherwise that so much of his own pleasure was tied up in the robot's. Not only when it came with the sensation of being filled by him, but just being in the company of his aroused state was enticing.
Though Emet-Selch was already getting hard, a firming line notable within his trousers, he tried to temper his expectations. Which mostly led to a dampening of them, in actuality, and his exhale is as sad as it is interested.]