Pull.
The slender silver hairpin had now become an instrument of torment, drawn back just a fraction within its tight, clutching sheath of Oathran's little peehole.
"Mmmm—"
The sound that escaped Oathran was a muffled, low-pitched hum of protest, vibrating against the roof of her mouth where the other, rigid cock was nestled.
Puuuuush.
She guided the pin back in, slow, feeling the minute tremors that ran through the entire massive frame beneath her.
"Aaaaaaaaahhhh…" His exhale was a long, a surrender to the invasive fullness, his head thrown back against the ruined velvet of the armchair, tendons standing out along his throat.
Twist…
A subtle rotation of her wrist, the pin turning minutely inside that impossibly sensitive hole.
"Ngghh! Mmm! Rrrhhhh…" It was a guttural, animal sound, choked and raw. His hips jerked involuntarily, a helpless spasm.
