She rubbed his face–her face now–with his hands,Fucked looking as lost as he felt. The pantyhose clung to him, damp and ruined, but he didn’t care–he liked the way they felt, even torn, the way they still hugged his legs. They both moaned–his voice high and sharp, hers low and guttural–as she stretched him, his walls clenching around her, still sensitive from before. His own body flailed beneath him, weaker than he’d ever realized, and for a moment, he just stared down at it, panting.

Then he noticed it.