It took a lot to make a winter sprite's cheeks go pink with heat.
Jack bit his lip hard, his fingers clutching on to the rough bark in front of him, squishing up his face in...pleasure, pain, satisfaction...except none of those words really described how he felt.
Teeth left the abused flesh, only to be replaced with a cautious sweep of his tongue and a hissing noise coming from within as the staff went in with a pop.
He hadn't really expected it to feel like this.
Or to feel as good as it did once it was inside.
"Uhn..." he panted, dropping his head down and looking at his bare feet, eyes wide, but vision distorted by some invisible...film of pleasure.
It took a minute, but Jack caught his breath, and dared to make the first move, pushing in an inch. He threw his head back, moaning and tearing a piece of bark off, letting it fall beside his bare feet. A small growl formed from...from his belly and he pushed in another, and another.
And it wasn't long before the teen fell to his hands and knees, desperately pushing and pulling his staff in and out, squeezing his anus in time and gasping and moaning just the same.
Pausing to readjust himself on the uncomfortable forest floor, he took the opportunity to touch his leaking cock.
"Ahn...ahh...ahhhhh..." His moans rang out through the woods of Burgess for no one to hear.
He started to squirm hopelessly around, letting the lone twigs scratch his torso as he felt small drops of snow on his back, and he knew he must be making it fall on accident...
There had been a lot of "accidents" near Burgess lately, which probably explained the sudden influx of snow.
But he couldn't help himself. Three hundred years of boredom lead to things.
"I'm a nasty little twink...with a tight little hole..." he mumbled, sound coming from his mouth now slightly muffled as his face was rubbing into the freshly fallen snow, squeezing his eyes shut.
Jack's hands worked on both his cock and his staff. All he wished is that there would be someone to see him and do this with him...assist him and help him...
"Give it to me...ah...all of it..."
It wasn't possible. But he could fantasize.
And fantasy was enough to allow him to climax: hot, sticky cum shooting on to the ground below him. Panting, he yanked his staff out, throwing it to the side. For the time being, he could care less about that staff, despite what it had just done for him.