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[ Greg's wings continue to shift around Gabriel's back until those outer feathers overlap, feathers rustling just enough to continue stroking over Gabriel's skin. The sensation of soft feather sliding smoothly over warm skin feels as good as anywhere else they're pressed together, if not even better. This is exactly the sort of thing that he wanted after the day he's had, and he's not feeling rushed, but he does want more.
There's almost something needy in the soft groan that escapes his lips when Gabriel strokes over his cock, and he's already slowly rocking his hips eagerly into that touch. There's a subtle shift in those those first few strokes where Greg's movements start to lean more toward demanding rather than languid, his hands sliding over Gabriel's thighs again before latching back onto his hips. ]
I think so, too.
[ At this point he would generally be pinning Gabriel down on the bed, but something about having that warm weight pressing against his hips and thighs, and back against his wings, just feels reassuring in how solid it is. It's keeping his mind here in the present, rather than giving his thoughts any chance to wander. ]
[ Gabriel makes a pleased noise as the feathers caress over his back, over every inch of his own tensed muscles. They aren't tensed by stress, not like Greg's, but by anticipation of all this pleasure, of this closeness, and the gentle velvet touch does nothing but increase that.
The way Greg's hips buck and rock upwards into his hand make him grin, and while he would normal tease poor Greg a little longer with slow, careful strokes, he's also far too keen to increase the pace.
He shifts, just slightly, not far from the glorious press of wings against his back, but close enough so that his own hard cock throbs against his hand. Gabriel releases his grip, just for a moment, before his fist curls around both of them, stroking again. It's enough to make he hisses out a breath, a pleased noise as the strokes grow in confidence.
He would have leaned down, to catch Greg's mouth in a kiss, but he doesn't want to pull away from the gorgeous wings against him, and he has a slight suspicion Greg might like to see this. So he lets his fingers stroke faster over them, his cock throbbing against Greg's as his thumb travels over the wet head of his cock and then over's Greg's. He can't help the groan, or the way he arches back against the soft feathers. It feels fantastic, no one can blame him for wanting more.
He'd really like to make some sort of response to Greg's words, something funny, but as soon as his lips part all he manages is an eager little moan and the rock of his hips, thrusting into his hand. ]
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There's almost something needy in the soft groan that escapes his lips when Gabriel strokes over his cock, and he's already slowly rocking his hips eagerly into that touch. There's a subtle shift in those those first few strokes where Greg's movements start to lean more toward demanding rather than languid, his hands sliding over Gabriel's thighs again before latching back onto his hips. ]
I think so, too.
[ At this point he would generally be pinning Gabriel down on the bed, but something about having that warm weight pressing against his hips and thighs, and back against his wings, just feels reassuring in how solid it is. It's keeping his mind here in the present, rather than giving his thoughts any chance to wander. ]
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The way Greg's hips buck and rock upwards into his hand make him grin, and while he would normal tease poor Greg a little longer with slow, careful strokes, he's also far too keen to increase the pace.
He shifts, just slightly, not far from the glorious press of wings against his back, but close enough so that his own hard cock throbs against his hand. Gabriel releases his grip, just for a moment, before his fist curls around both of them, stroking again. It's enough to make he hisses out a breath, a pleased noise as the strokes grow in confidence.
He would have leaned down, to catch Greg's mouth in a kiss, but he doesn't want to pull away from the gorgeous wings against him, and he has a slight suspicion Greg might like to see this. So he lets his fingers stroke faster over them, his cock throbbing against Greg's as his thumb travels over the wet head of his cock and then over's Greg's. He can't help the groan, or the way he arches back against the soft feathers. It feels fantastic, no one can blame him for wanting more.
He'd really like to make some sort of response to Greg's words, something funny, but as soon as his lips part all he manages is an eager little moan and the rock of his hips, thrusting into his hand. ]