Blake's post-orgasm haze shattered into panic, just as expected.
He immediately yanked up his pants, face burning crimson.
"S-sorry! But hey, why'd you swallow it? That's gross!" he yelped, lunging forward to dab at Myles' mouth with his sleeve, even though not a drop marred those lips.
Yet Myles did not look particularly fazed, his gaze pinning him in place.
Blake's eyes darted down involuntarily.
'Woah.'
Myles' member strained obscenely against his pants even more than before, the fabric stretched taut over a bulge that looked ready to burst seams... thick, long, pulsing with unrestrained need.
Blake braced for Myles to pin him down and do whatever he wanted right there.
Instead, he got up and, without much hesitation, turned toward the bathroom, steps casual.
"Wait, why're you going there?" He called, confusion knitting his brows.
Myles glanced back over his shoulder. "I can take care of it myself."
