. . . *_*

Justin thrusts a little harder each time, wanting - needing- to be just that much closer to Joe. He manages a sloppy rhythm for a few minutes before his control is shot and coming is like catching a pitch in the small of his back. He doesn’t black out or anything lame like that, but the world is definitely a little blurry for a while. <~~ officially melted my brain.

I. have nothing useful to say. Instead I shall make flaily hand motions in your direction.