The iron bed groaned under the force of a decade's worth of repressed obsession finally boiling over. Arm, the man who had never bowed to anyone, fell back against the thin mattress with a heavy thud, his chest heaving as he stared up at Mild with raw, hungry surrender.
Mild climbed on top, straddling Arm's thick thighs. He didn't enter him; instead, he sat back, letting the heat of Arm's massive, throbbing member slide into the tight crack of his ass. He began to grind slowly, the friction of skin on skin making Arm's hips buck involuntarily.
"Look at you," Mild panted, his voice dripping with a newfound, slutty confidence. "The great Armitage, lying here like a dog. If I actually put this inside you, the heavens would overturn, wouldn't they? Why would anyone want to be torn apart by this?"
