black-quadrant:syblatortue: Anon: *whispers* hornjobsyeeeeah“I know creative
black-quadrant: syblatortue: Anon: *whispers* hornjobs yeeeeah “I know creative ways of making you feel good.” Kankri scoffed at the mere notion, but Karkat managed to convince him that he could, in fact, bring him pleasure without going straight for the erogenous zones. Karkat may have been withholding some very pertinent information, namely that their—Karkat’s and Kankri’s—horns are by far the most sensitive of the castes. He struck when Kankri wasn’t expecting it, playing it cool and casual as he draped himself over the back of the couch. While his elder was occupied with reading material, the puckish little Vantas gently brushed two fingers against a small, rounded horn. Kankri’s flinch was instantaneous. “Hey, it’s just me.” And for some reason, be it blood trust, familiarity, or some other mystery, that was enough to quell Kankri’s nerves—well, mostly. He tried (in vain) to resume his reading, but every touch conducted electricity in the form of sparks that crackled and exploded inside of his head. He swallowed a moan as heat bloomed through his cheeks, his focus fading fast. Above him, Karkat smirked, his thickset fingers slowly enclosing the circumference of that horn until the pressure was palpable, tight and maddening. Kankri’s breath hitched, his grip on his tome shaking as Karkat lazily tugged on the tiny extension of himself. “…ohh—” The flustered troll bit his lip on the tail end of a shamefaced moan, flushing at his own failure to suppress the incriminating noise. But he had more pressing matters to attend to such as the very unwanted, very disruptive, very humiliating swelling between his thighs. And as it turned out, squeezing them together was not the proper method for alleviating the pressure. Karkat was showing no mercy, his pace quickening, drawing his other horn into a ringed clutch. He alternated between horns, pumping and pulling, watching in wicked delight as Kankri withered. Kankri, for once, was unable to speak, his hands wedged between his quivering legs (book forgotten), hips subtly rolling, as if shyly. His breathing deepened, broken moans wringing the tension from the room. Kankri’s arousal was a sight to behold, and from Karkat’s aerial vantage he could see everything, especially the impressive length writhing within the undoubtedly humid confines of those revealing leggings. Kankri’s head lolled sideways, his eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging agape, every single fiber of his being yielding to guilty desire. "I could make you come.” Karkat proposed, barely containing the husk in his own voice. He paused abruptly to squeeze both horns in tandem; Kankri mewled. “But the question is… do you want to?” -- source link
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