[Hector jerks with each strike. With his head held immobile, the motions of his hips become even more frantic, held too high now to find any relief in friction.
The count of the strikes are almost sobs at this point, and he can't even hiss out 'ten'. The final blow, out of step with the rest and punctuated with the blinding pleasure of that stroke to the tail, finally overwhelms him, and Hector spills onto Everett's already-damp kilt with a full-body shudder.]
no subject
The count of the strikes are almost sobs at this point, and he can't even hiss out 'ten'. The final blow, out of step with the rest and punctuated with the blinding pleasure of that stroke to the tail, finally overwhelms him, and Hector spills onto Everett's already-damp kilt with a full-body shudder.]