shota holds you in his arms with your back against his chest, your legs spread wide and shaky. his skin is hot. it soothes a small part of your soul every time he nuzzles in a little closer. his fingers are thick and long enough to have your head falling back into his shoulder. you pant as he slowly fingers you. it’s messy and it sounds lewd, but you’re floating, so far gone that you hardly notice. "that's it, babygirl.... just relax." his voice is soft and smooth and low, carrying every thought away with it. a moan falls from your lips, louder than expected when he massages a tender spot deep in your silken walls. “shota,” you slur, lost in his touch. tender kisses graze your skin and make you shudder. he’s taking his time, gently pulling you along from one orgasm into another as he talks you through each one….
shota can fuck you stupid any day of the week, but this? he cherishes it. it’s far less often that he gets to lift your burdens for a little while as he holds you in his arms.