No, no. [Lover lingers on his tongue but makes no sound. It is too soon for such sentiments. There is no promise of what tomorrow holds.] All pleasure before hand was the beginning. There is more.
[Moist hands trace down his sides, down his back to rest at his thighs. Blanc slowly enters the other man.]
no subject
[Moist hands trace down his sides, down his back to rest at his thighs. Blanc slowly enters the other man.]
Ah!
[Forgive him for crying out, he cannot help it.]
Don't race away now.