[And likewise, MTT would eventually know better than to linger overlong. But there wasn't any rush: he'd only just climaxed, and his body but tingled all over, any sense he possessed firing off to make even the air a pressure satisfyingly overcoming. If he closed his eye, he could only squirm with delight at the sensitivity of Emet-Selch wrapped around his cock, and the sensation of his body pressed against his own. He felt it all so vividly, and everything was all so warm, so cold...
And warmth that reaches his heart as Emet-Selch wraps himself around his body. He was being caught, and Mettaton not only didn't mind, but encouraged it. He smiles, an airy giggle as he blissfully pushes into his grasp, encouraging this entrapment of his body. He wouldn't be using his robotic strength this time, when he wanted to badly to let Emet-Selch claim him as his prize. His lips part around the mage's moan, wishing to swallow up his voice as he trembles, succumbing to his embrace as wholly as he could—even crushing him into the mattress in the process.]
I can't help myself. You provoke a lot out of me.
[His voice is pitched soft, a gentle utterance against lips that needed to be kissed. And he does, closing that bit of distance to lock lips, an interruption of Emet-Selch's capacity for breath—all replaced with a low, nearly predatory hum. That he'd still be hungry for him even after his recent orgasm should be expected, he thought. He is easily provoked by him, after all.
The most he does, though, is stuff himself deep inside of Emet-Selch and wriggle his hips, showing off the depth and heat he's achieved. His release left behind, his manner is proud while he tugs the smaller man against his crotch once more before moving his hands, fingers dragging up his sides on their way to his shoulders. With a sigh, Mettaton cuddles Emet-Selch firmly.]
Do you like this? All of... this, that you've given me.
[From the fullness of his cock, the rigidness of it, the size, the load he could provide—and everything else, from the supple silicone that made up his hips, to his newfound ability to feel temperature. Mettaton himself? Obviously spellbound, impressed and in love with it all as he shudders close to Emet-Selch's body.]
no subject
And warmth that reaches his heart as Emet-Selch wraps himself around his body. He was being caught, and Mettaton not only didn't mind, but encouraged it. He smiles, an airy giggle as he blissfully pushes into his grasp, encouraging this entrapment of his body. He wouldn't be using his robotic strength this time, when he wanted to badly to let Emet-Selch claim him as his prize. His lips part around the mage's moan, wishing to swallow up his voice as he trembles, succumbing to his embrace as wholly as he could—even crushing him into the mattress in the process.]
I can't help myself. You provoke a lot out of me.
[His voice is pitched soft, a gentle utterance against lips that needed to be kissed. And he does, closing that bit of distance to lock lips, an interruption of Emet-Selch's capacity for breath—all replaced with a low, nearly predatory hum. That he'd still be hungry for him even after his recent orgasm should be expected, he thought. He is easily provoked by him, after all.
The most he does, though, is stuff himself deep inside of Emet-Selch and wriggle his hips, showing off the depth and heat he's achieved. His release left behind, his manner is proud while he tugs the smaller man against his crotch once more before moving his hands, fingers dragging up his sides on their way to his shoulders. With a sigh, Mettaton cuddles Emet-Selch firmly.]
Do you like this? All of... this, that you've given me.
[From the fullness of his cock, the rigidness of it, the size, the load he could provide—and everything else, from the supple silicone that made up his hips, to his newfound ability to feel temperature. Mettaton himself? Obviously spellbound, impressed and in love with it all as he shudders close to Emet-Selch's body.]