Oh, but Burr should like to use them at the same time. To insert one quickly into his cunt if only to wet it, and move it back while fucking him with the second. He reaches up, slides fingers into Hamilton's cunt, yet he need not ensure he is wet, for the obscene amount of slick that rolls down his fingers, wets his hand.
The glass one will do nicely, he thinks, to prepare him. He trails it in the slick--cold and hard, before thrusting it in suddenly, down to the hilt. Drinks in any sounds, unable to tear his eyes away from the way it disappears in him, yet as soon as Alexander seems to be gathering himself, found that spot of pleasure, he pulls away--draws it out, slick, not yet warmed, and pressed it cruelly against his ass. Presses, not hard enough to cause injury, but hard enough to breach him, feeds each inch in slowly as he prepares the second larger, pushing it into his other hole at the same time.
"How does that feel?" Burr breathes, and he feels transfixed, helpless, at the sight of Hamilton speared so wide. Yet this is not so good a view, so he shimmies down the bed until his face is beneath Hamilton, so each drop of slick down those obscene bodies lands on his face, licks around the intrusions, drinking in each shudder, shaking legs.
"Oh, now you are very pretty. Perhaps this is what I should have a painting made of. Your holes, so wonderfully stuffed. I can see the muscles quivering, Alexander. Trying to draw more inside. A body made for fucking."
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The glass one will do nicely, he thinks, to prepare him. He trails it in the slick--cold and hard, before thrusting it in suddenly, down to the hilt. Drinks in any sounds, unable to tear his eyes away from the way it disappears in him, yet as soon as Alexander seems to be gathering himself, found that spot of pleasure, he pulls away--draws it out, slick, not yet warmed, and pressed it cruelly against his ass. Presses, not hard enough to cause injury, but hard enough to breach him, feeds each inch in slowly as he prepares the second larger, pushing it into his other hole at the same time.
"How does that feel?" Burr breathes, and he feels transfixed, helpless, at the sight of Hamilton speared so wide. Yet this is not so good a view, so he shimmies down the bed until his face is beneath Hamilton, so each drop of slick down those obscene bodies lands on his face, licks around the intrusions, drinking in each shudder, shaking legs.
"Oh, now you are very pretty. Perhaps this is what I should have a painting made of. Your holes, so wonderfully stuffed. I can see the muscles quivering, Alexander. Trying to draw more inside. A body made for fucking."