[The denial of air intensifies everything. He has to fight with his body's instinct for survival, but he has the well-carved discipline to do it — he holds even through those first hard, ruthless thrusts of Cy's cock inside of him to that utmost depth, shoved against that aching space at the brim of his body. The strain only tightens his cunt around the intrusion of the man's dick, and there's a brief, desperate little thrash when Cy's fingers pinch his throat — wavy spots of black peppering his vision but not taking him under. The headiness is so absolute that the rest of the world ceases to exist. He is here, pinned down, mercilessly fucked to a point he can no longer take any more and then he feels Cy come, that hot rush of seed filling him, satisfying the carnal drive to be bred by this man and none other.
And almost instantaneously his mouth cracks open on a desperate drag of air, ragged and hungry, all but sobbing through those first few heaves of breath. He's not really aware of the tears dripping from the corners of closed eyes, pinched loose from the sheer burden of pressure on top of him and inside of him. If he hears Cy, it's a background detail — the slip of foreign language straying across his periphery.]
Please... please...
[He begs senselessly, stupidly, legs trembling where they're hooked and held over Cy's shoulders as another wave of orgasm hits him — less because of direct stimulation than it is a combination of everything. The hard ridge of pelvic bone compressed against his clit where they're joined; the ache of flexibility in this submissive position; the feeling of Cy's dick as deep as he can possibly take it; and the slippery flood of come, reminding him that in this body Cy could impregnate him, that there's no barrier of fantasy like this. Not biology, not illusion. Eventually Sasuke's voice cools to a whimper, but he doesn't dare try to move.]
breeding kink intensifies
And almost instantaneously his mouth cracks open on a desperate drag of air, ragged and hungry, all but sobbing through those first few heaves of breath. He's not really aware of the tears dripping from the corners of closed eyes, pinched loose from the sheer burden of pressure on top of him and inside of him. If he hears Cy, it's a background detail — the slip of foreign language straying across his periphery.]
Please... please...
[He begs senselessly, stupidly, legs trembling where they're hooked and held over Cy's shoulders as another wave of orgasm hits him — less because of direct stimulation than it is a combination of everything. The hard ridge of pelvic bone compressed against his clit where they're joined; the ache of flexibility in this submissive position; the feeling of Cy's dick as deep as he can possibly take it; and the slippery flood of come, reminding him that in this body Cy could impregnate him, that there's no barrier of fantasy like this. Not biology, not illusion. Eventually Sasuke's voice cools to a whimper, but he doesn't dare try to move.]