This is kinda anti-scömíche. I'm sorry... (R?)
Scott's POV:
It just doesn't mean anything to me. Or him as a matter of fact.
I simply lie there. Letting sweat domain each particle of my face. My ears and skin getting hot and sticky.
I simply have my legs a tiny bit parted. My arms up by the side of my head.
I simply lie there, on the bed, the sheets sticking to the skin on my back and tangling uncomfortably.
A certain Mitch Grassi is in between my legs. He's sat on my dick, me inside of him, and he's just lying on me but moving his pelvis up with his bounces.
His eyelashes lie lightly against his cheeks. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. His hair is sticking out messily in all directions. His lips are slightly open and he is moaning heavily and talking dirty.
It just doesn't mean anything.
He leans down and gives me another sloppy, lazy kiss as he continues to just thrust his hips up and down. The rest for his body with no movement what-so-ever -- he's just lying on me.
He continues to ride me. It's like an ever-lasting sex that you're just not into anymore. He seems not interested in this whole scömíche thing. He only takes his interests in the sound of my dick against the inside of his ass (which is not oleasent whatsoever) or the feeling as I hit that spot over and over again.
To be honest I'm not even hitting that spot. He's making me. He's riding me therefore I have no control, only to thrust my hips up in time. But I'm too drenched in salty, smelly, sticky sweat to bother.
My eyes go a darker blue. I can feel that kind of thing- it's just natural. My breathing gets ragged because of how heated I am. But I'm not feeling particularly pleasured- yes, I'm being ridden, so of course I'm arroused. But not because it's the Italian slut on my cock. Not because I like it.
It just doesn't mean anything.
You can ride me how ever many times you want, ratchet Elsa wig boy, but not once will I ever enjoy it. I don't love you. Neither do you love me. It's just a forced relationship because we fuck all the time for no reason. Who knows how we ended up like this in the first place.
"S-ScOTT!" He shrieks finally and cums on my chest, after what seemed like forever. A never ending porn scene coming to life and replayed over and over again, probably 20/7.
I also release deeply into him but he stays on me. He just lies there, my dick still wedged up his ass.
5 minutes pass of me thinking about all this when all his manhood starts to swell on my stomach. His breathing starts to get unsteady and he reaches up slowly to pull me in for a tasteless, disgusting, lazy open mouthed kiss. I continue to steam and roast and sweat, like it never ever stops.
he's just lying on me again but moving his pelvis up with his bounces.
Here we go again.
...
It just doesn't mean anything.
•
I'M SORRY
