( by the time he's bullied in half-way, there's a sheen of sweat on Eddie's skin and it's hard to breathe. Jem's so goddamn tight that each time they do this, Eddie's sure that they won't fit inside of her until he's in as far as the position will let him go and panting against the back of her neck.
there's soft praise mumbled against her skin, against the hair sticking there. she's doing so good, she feel so fucking good. Billy too, cock pressed against his own and just right. Eddie can't breathe his head's spinning from pleasure but he doesn't want anything else; doesn't want to be anywhere else.
he's an arm around Jem's waist, a hand on Billy's bicep and how they haven't tumbled off the damn couch is a wonder but he's not questioning it. ) Jesus Christ-- you-- fuck, you're perfect.
( he pants against hot skin, to Jem and Billy at the same time even if they're pissed at him still. the weed's hitting and he feels that warm lull nearly as much as the pleasure, the overwhelming pressure and warmth of Jem's body adjusting to them all over again. the side of Jem's neck that's not lathered in Billy's attention earns his, a press of his teeth to the tendon there over a fading mark. they're supposed to talk but, fuck, Eddie's not sure they'll manage that when it's hard to stay still, to not tremble and move. )
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there's soft praise mumbled against her skin, against the hair sticking there. she's doing so good, she feel so fucking good. Billy too, cock pressed against his own and just right. Eddie can't breathe his head's spinning from pleasure but he doesn't want anything else; doesn't want to be anywhere else.
he's an arm around Jem's waist, a hand on Billy's bicep and how they haven't tumbled off the damn couch is a wonder but he's not questioning it. ) Jesus Christ-- you-- fuck, you're perfect.
( he pants against hot skin, to Jem and Billy at the same time even if they're pissed at him still. the weed's hitting and he feels that warm lull nearly as much as the pleasure, the overwhelming pressure and warmth of Jem's body adjusting to them all over again. the side of Jem's neck that's not lathered in Billy's attention earns his, a press of his teeth to the tendon there over a fading mark. they're supposed to talk but, fuck, Eddie's not sure they'll manage that when it's hard to stay still, to not tremble and move. )