Mustang turns his attention to the shirts on the hangers. They're a riot of colors that Hughes might wear, but Roy's been raised as a gentleman and prefers traditional white. Mustang concentrates as he shuffles through them, mildly frustrated when he doesn't find what he wants.
Roy bends his knees to go through those shirts that are folded in a few piles and can't help noticing the movement rocks the toy inside of him, outside of him, and a quiet moan surprises him when it escapes his throat. Roy sighs quietly, unwilling to share that the toy's stimulation is arousing him again and so quickly, albeit on a much more comfortable level.
White, white, white... This shop doesn't have any white button-ups as far as he can see. It doesn't matter, he supposes. Once he gets home, he can always transmute the color out of the cloth. He even considers getting a different color to try, and bending over, grits his teeth almost fiercely against the surge of blood rushing to his crotch.
What is it about this toy? Mustang has had plenty of prostate orgasms -- he just orgasmed moments before -- so why or what had him on the edge of yet another?
He breathed carefully as he bent over, concentrating on choosing a different color. The pale pink shirt caught his fancy, but when he lay the cloth across the paleness of his skin, it just didn't look right, washing the color from his face.
Ultimately, Roy chose a dark blue shirt which he slid on and buttoned up immediately. He liked how it looked, noting to himself to buy a cobalt scarf next time he visited here. He didn't even notice that he squirmed through most of his fitting and turned to Vrenille. "What do you think about this?"
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Mustang turns his attention to the shirts on the hangers. They're a riot of colors that Hughes might wear, but Roy's been raised as a gentleman and prefers traditional white. Mustang concentrates as he shuffles through them, mildly frustrated when he doesn't find what he wants.
Roy bends his knees to go through those shirts that are folded in a few piles and can't help noticing the movement rocks the toy inside of him, outside of him, and a quiet moan surprises him when it escapes his throat. Roy sighs quietly, unwilling to share that the toy's stimulation is arousing him again and so quickly, albeit on a much more comfortable level.
White, white, white... This shop doesn't have any white button-ups as far as he can see. It doesn't matter, he supposes. Once he gets home, he can always transmute the color out of the cloth. He even considers getting a different color to try, and bending over, grits his teeth almost fiercely against the surge of blood rushing to his crotch.
What is it about this toy? Mustang has had plenty of prostate orgasms -- he just orgasmed moments before -- so why or what had him on the edge of yet another?
He breathed carefully as he bent over, concentrating on choosing a different color. The pale pink shirt caught his fancy, but when he lay the cloth across the paleness of his skin, it just didn't look right, washing the color from his face.
Ultimately, Roy chose a dark blue shirt which he slid on and buttoned up immediately. He liked how it looked, noting to himself to buy a cobalt scarf next time he visited here. He didn't even notice that he squirmed through most of his fitting and turned to Vrenille. "What do you think about this?"