Part 2 of the ménage à trois, in which we get to hear some of Huling's thoughts… they might surprise you. And, this is the last bit of smut for this story!
I finished the story last night, rather sadly! This is the second-to-last chapter – I will post the final bit this weekend.
Regarding the title of this chapter: "Ineffable" is a gimme, yes. A cheap trick, even. But it does accurately reflect Huling's attitude on this whole thing. My goal with these final two chapters is to get back down to the bare bones of the story, which is an incredibly profound emotional and physical bond between two men, who are learning about love and humanness. That's where this chapter is ultimately going. And the next one, as well.
Regarding the action here: again, it's been through 3-4 drafts, and I have tried my best not to make it a snakepit of appendages and fluids. So easy to let the description get in the way of the hotness… did my best, like always!
It's long! But I hope you will find it non-confusing, interesting, scorching hot, and beautiful! Enjoy!
INEFFABLE
Craig Huling was on a sofa in a posh London flat, incredibly modern, adorned quite purposefully mostly with dark colours and hard edges – the place had almost a gothic feel. Even the settee itself was firm, and low to the ground. And he was sitting on it in his underwear.
It was a bit surreal.
In one direction, he could vaguely hear a shower going. In the other direction, he could hear someone banging and clanging about in the kitchen.
And inside of his head, he could still hear the pleasured utterances of the most wonderful man alive. The sinuous moans he let out during passionate kisses… the panting and broken language he let slip while having his cock ridden to their mutual bliss… the fabulous, cathartic grunt he gave while orgasming, buzzing, juddering all over… the muffled supplications brought about by having his mouth quite thoroughly fucked.
Every sound he made, every move, every blink, breath and gesture, it all spoke to a person of great passion, great warmth. Crowley had said as much – he was, indeed, a delicious confection, warm like a friend, and also like a bread pudding. An angel. He was a receptive lover, a sensualist, a hungry, luscious soul.
And there was something about him, something that Huling found elusive, that was rendering the whole evening a bit more painful. He sighed heavily. Something in the fevered proceedings had shone through that made Mr. Fell even more appealing (if that was possible), and harder to walk away from. It wasn't the openness, or the politeness, or even the moans or the throbs or his lovely, lovely cock. It was something else, something that defied explanation, something… well, almost ineffable.
And God help him, he found Crowley to be pretty damned delectable himself. In a red-light-district sort of way. He was disarming and accommodating to be sure, but also a bit burlesque. Almost as though, at some point, he'd done this professionally. But Huling didn't want his mind going there.
And the combination of the two of them, Crowley and his magnificent partner, the contrasting personalities both experiencing ecstasy differently… it was intoxicating.
Huling shuddered, and had to concentrate on not allowing his body to show signs of arousal again. The next chapter of the evening was supposed to be all about gelato – cool, sour, crisp, as opposed to hot, sweet, and messy.
But he had no idea if he would ever have his hands all over Mr. Fell again, so he desperately wanted to take these moments to feel. To remember. To file it all away, imprint it upon his soul, and be ecstatic that he had, as Crowley promised, been able to touch perfection just this once.
But it would be quite embarrassing if Crowley came back from the kitchen, and he was sitting there with a huge erection.
Alas, he was sporting no such thing when the tall man (also clad only in underpants) appeared with three teacups heaped with gelato in one hand, and three spoons in the other. He deposited them on the coffee table
They each grabbed a cup and a spoon, and the two of them sat for a minute or two, just taking small bites of gelato, and not saying anything.
And then Crowley asked, "How are you feeling?"
"Half ecstatic, half melancholy."
"Yeah, but you knew that was probably going to happen."
"I did. I was ready for it. Right now, I'm focusing on the 'ecstatic' bit."
Crowley laughed, almost reluctantly. "It was fucking fantastic, wasn't it?"
"It was. You were right, he is…" Huling gulped.
Crowley smiled sympathetically. "He is."
"Everything you said." After a pause, Huling continued, "The fulfillment of a fantasy. Warm. Amenable. Delectable. A little bit slutty. And skilled! I can't believe he can do that hanging-his-head-off-the-bed thing! That was mental!"
"It's only too bad you didn't get to hear him talk," Crowley said, flashing an eyebrow. "He is absolutely filthy when he gets going. Perhaps on the next go, we'll see that his mouth is unobstructed."
"Next go?"
"Well, you're still here, aren't you? And we're both still in our pants. I'm taking that as reason for optimism."
"All right, then," Huling said, rather shyly, stifling a smile. "We'll just wait to hear the shower turn off, then."
"He takes forever. Sorry."
"I thought he was just going to rinse off."
"He can't do that. Too fastidious. He'll be along before dawn. Probably."
They ate gelato in silence for another couple of minutes.
And then, "You know, Huling, about that bull-in-a-china-shop phenomenon… I'm sorry, but I find it very hard to believe that you are anything short of cat-like in a china shop."
Huling chuckled. "What a weird thing to say."
"You don't move like a wrestler who never learned finesse."
"I don't?" Huling asked, not particularly surprised to hear this.
"No. You have control. You've been cultivated. You have efficiency. It's like your body is spring-loaded for fucking. Muscular and hard literally everywhere… quick, warlike movements. Difficult not to think you were built for this."
"Okay, if we're going to go down this road..." Huling said, attempting to hide his utter delight at what Crowley was saying. "You are… well you clearly know how sexy you are. I'm enamoured of your partner, obviously, but I'd be loath to ignore the fact that sex oozes from your pores, Crowley. And to boot, you're one of the most persuasive people I've ever met."
"I've been told that."
"I could see how you were a very dangerous corporate fixer."
"I was good at my job. Well, mostly."
"And in the bedroom, you are… you are…" Huling stopped, and leaned exaggeratedly away from Crowley, studying him a bit. "I'm finding myself at a loss for an apt adjective. I'm going to go with 'performative.'"
"Performative?" Crowley asked, with an incredulous smile.
"And serpentine, somehow."
"Whoa, what?"
"Don't get me wrong – it's all very compelling. Have you ever worn a corset?" Huling asked, with a smile. Crowley couldn't tell if he was serious, or just messing with him.
Nevertheless, he answered the question. "Actually, yes. In my time, I've done just about everything, at least once."
"You know, now you mention it, I've been curious… are you strictly a man's man?"
"Not strictly. Though I think I will be now, for the rest of my life. This relationship is sacrosanct to me, but that's about him – his energy, his soul, which, frankly could have come packaged in the form of an otter, and I'd still love him," Crowley answered, absolutely truthfully.
"I can see that."
"Eleven years since I've been with anyone else – man, woman, or otter. Until tonight."
"Restlessness?" Huling wondered.
"No, just wanting a treat, and to share my good fortune. And you, my friend, are quite the treat," Crowley said, nudging his guest's chin with two bent fingers.
"All you did was kiss me," Huling said.
"Kissing you, and watching you in action for even ten seconds, told me everything I need to know."
Aziraphale was back in his charcoal robe, now joining the other two in the lounge.
"Gelato, angel, as requested," Crowley said, getting to his feet, and putting a teacup into Aziraphale's hands.
"Ah! Have you finished yours?"
"We have. And it was the third most delicious thing I have tasted tonight," Crowley said, kissing his lover on the cheek. Then he said, "Speaking of which, I'm wondering how you'd feel about eating gelato while watching your partner snog your favourite cheese merchant. And possibly fondle him a bit."
"Mixing food and sex, Crowley? I'm not sure I'm one for such a thing," Aziraphale said, exaggeratedly innocently. "But I'm willing to give it a go, for your sake."
Huling chuckled. It didn't take Freud to read into that little slice of their private life.
Aziraphale settled onto his knees on the carpet across the coffee table from Huling, and Crowley re-took his seat beside their guest. He reached out one large hand and cradled Huling's jowls and neck, pulling him in, and devouring his soft, rounded lips once again. And in return, the fromager sucked the "serpentine" tongue into his mouth, and massaged it with his lips.
Aziraphale had managed one mouthful of the dessert, but then sat motionless, stunned, with a spoon in-hand, watching the spectacle.
Crowley's tongue in someone else's mouth. Crowley's lips moving against someone else's lips. Crowley's chest being stroked and explored by someone else's hands…
He wondered if he might feel that low 'thud' of jealousy in the pit of his stomach after all, but he did not. All he could do was admire. He was just sorry Crowley couldn't wear the Armani suit and be naked and explored and exposed at the same time.
Crowley was the first to reach over. He boldly creeped in with his fingers behind the waistband of Huling's navy blue cotton pants and pulled the half-hard member into the open. He began to stroke it, and Aziraphale watched it harden in Crowley's hand, while the two of them sucked at each other's mouths, and moaned rather indecently.
The two sets of lips remained writhing together, as though making a kind of love of their own; Aziraphale was mesmerised by them. He gave up on his spoon, as by now, he fully realised, his robe was tenting again. There was no point in being coy at this stage – he opened the flaps and let his cock jut out, leaned back on one hand, and with the other, stroked himself as he watched.
It took Huling another minute, but eventually, Crowley's shaft was in his hand, and he was pulling at it, breathless with the loud, sloppy snog.
Another couple of minutes passed this way – leaking cocks, stroking, moaning, the sounds of hungry mouths. Eventually, Crowley turned and looked at Aziraphale, whose erection was now fully realised, very impressive, and being handled quite earnestly by the man himself.
"Like what you see, angel?"
"Curiously, yes."
"Jump in, save us some work?"
Aziraphale shrugged off the robe. He effortlessly pushed the glass coffee table aside, and with it, three teacups, three spoons, and all thoughts of gelato.
He began by settling himself between Huling's knees. The man watched with shock and fascination as he teased at the swollen cockhead for just a few moments, swirling his tongue around, making the fromager's cross a bit. Then Crowley moved his hand out of the way so that he could press down, until his lips were taut against Huling's body.
The strong, muscular hips flexed forward, and Huling moaned hard, but refused to take his eyes away from the proceedings. He lost track of what he was doing, and no longer stroked Crowley's cock, but Aziraphale's left hand replaced it.
Huling looked at Aziraphale once more as though he couldn't believe he existed. Crowley, however, noticed that their guest seemed so stunned, still so wrapped up in the 'I can't believe this is real' aspect of the evening, that Crowley wondered if he was feeling any actual pleasure.
"Angel, give him a breather," Crowley said, gently, and Aziraphale pulled away for a moment. Crowley turned his head toward Huling. "You're not in the moment, Huling. Close your eyes for a few moments. Let yourself feel. For now, it's just air, and heat, and anticipation."
Huling did as suggested, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He put his hands at his sides, and Aziraphale couldn't help but begin servicing his lover's delicious, familiar, throbbing member. And as he did, just for a minute, Crowley concentrated only on Aziraphale, and vice versa.
They made eye-contact, as Crowley's cock disappeared over and over into that pretty, willing mouth. "Oh, angel, you're so fucking good at this," Crowley hissed, along with a few other disjointed phrases. "Oh fuck… yes, I love that mouth…"
And Crowley's eyes narrowed then, and they shared an intimate, well-trod moment of intensity, the last stop before the climb to orgasm began in earnest. But as Crowley's hand began to claw desperately round the back of Aziraphale's neck, the latter stopped his attentions…
…and moved back to the right.
Crowley whined with disappointment, but was impressed with his formerly skittish angel. He again whispered to Huling, "Keep your eyes closed. Keep letting yourself feel… feel him. He'll devour you, make your toes curl, swallow everything you've got, if you let him, but you have to give yourself over."
Aziraphale took Huling's dick down his throat one more time, and their guest groaned deeply, and also briefly ran one hand through the soft tuft of white curls. "Oh, that's Heavenly…" he mused, eyes still shut. "Oh, wow… oh…"
Crowley took the opportunity to stand up and get rid of his pants, rush out of the room, and disappear for a moment.
And Huling couldn't help himself. In Crowley's absence, he dared to open his eyes and look down.
There he was – the delectable angel, the most gorgeous man in the universe, the most skilled lover he had ever seen – just there, sucking him off, rhythmically pulling his delicate mouth back and forth over Huling's cock, looking him in the eye now, expectantly, looking for approval or possibly something else.
And they were alone together. Huling could pretend, for just a few brief, shining moments, that this was all just for them.
And he felt himself tighten.
Aziraphale felt it too. It was the same winding up for release that he felt a few minutes before, when he was sucking Crowley… and suddenly a great big wave of guilt came over him in the ten seconds while his partner was out of the room, and he was feeling another man's mushroomed-head penetrating his mouth over and over, priming for release, while staring into an extraordinary set of dramatic, intelligent, asymmetrical eyes…
But then it was over, because Crowley was back, in his place on the sofa.
For a few seconds just before entering back into a delicious snog with Crowley, Huling felt that he had seen once again that inexplicable quality in the man on his knees, that thing he couldn't explain even to himself, that made the man such a difficult specimen to pin down, or let go of. It was a beautiful slice of time, and yet also, again, a bit painful…
But then Huling's mind was clouded by his cock being pumped, and his mouth being probed.
And so he probed back… addled, but feverish with lust now.
"Mm, I can feel where this is going, Huling," Crowley said breathlessly, between kisses. "I can feel you ramping up, and all I've got in my mouth is your tongue."
"Yeah…you're right, I'm… I'm on the edge… please stop," he said, suddenly to Aziraphale. His hand went to Aziraphale's shoulder and he pushed.
Aziraphale obeyed, of course. He asked, "Is something wrong?"
"No. You're perfect. You're better than perfect. You're… something beyond perfect. Is there a word for that?"
Crowley felt a surge of lust and pride.
"Oh, Craig. I'm afraid you don't see me objectively," Aziraphale sighed, eyes cast downward.
"Perhaps not," Huling agreed. "But I can feel that this incredible little adventure is about to end – at least my part of it. And I just… well, I wanted to delay it a little longer. You had me just there, about to blow…"
"I understand," Aziraphale said.
Huling sat forward on the sofa, took Aziraphale's face in his hands gently, pulled him up off his haunches, onto his knees, kissed him on the mouth, and whispered, "I don't know how much more resistance I have left in me, and I want to be inside you. Just once, just for a little while, before it's over forever. Will you let me do that?"
"Of course," Aziraphale replied, in the same low tone.
Huling looked to the right, and saw that the condoms and lube were on the coffee table. "Is that what you went for?" he asked Crowley.
"Yep. One way or another, I thought we might need them."
Huling stood up, and Aziraphale stayed where he was, on his knees. Crowley moved over and sat in front of him. He too now cradled his angel's face, kissed him, and asked, "Are you ready for this?"
Aziraphale answered, "If I weren't, I'd say the hills are alive. But they are not."
"No wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings?"
Aziraphale smiled. "No poultry whatsoever. No kittens with whiskers, no ponies of any colour."
"Excellent. I'm going to enjoy the Hell out of this," Crowley said, with a wicked smile.
"I hope so."
Huling gave a chuckle. "So, references to 'The Sound of Music' must've been some sort of safe word?"
"Well… yes," Aziraphale admitted. "But only because…"
"It's all right," Huling said. "What better way to express being uncomfortable?"
"Exactly!"
Silence fell, and their guest was now kneeling behind Aziraphale, stroking his arms, kissing his shoulder. He had shed his pants as well. "Will you bend forward for me?" he asked.
Aziraphale obliged, and found himself leaning fully over, his chest across Crowley's left leg. He then felt a cool drizzle of lube over his rear hole, and a slippery finger pop inside. It was shorter and thicker than Crowley's fingers, perhaps even more effective at spreading him open to ready him for the pounding he was about to take.
He groaned a bit, and might have involuntarily muttered, "Oh, fuck me…" over and over, especially as the finger moved back and forth.
Crowley watched with lust, interest, and bated breath.
A second finger went inside, and then a third. They gave each finger a good minute's adjustment, and at each stage, Huling moved them back and forth, varying the intensity. And then, be began to scissor them.
"Oh yes," Aziraphale moaned. "Do that a bit more roughly, and I'll be all yours!"
"Roughly? Really?"
"Yes, please!"
Huling was now vibrating three spread fingers inside of the pretty puckered hole before him. This could only continue for a short time before, with a trembling voice, Aziraphale looked back at him, and said, "I'm ready for a good hard fuck – do it now!"
"Oh, my God," Huling groaned. "I could die right now, with those words ringing in my ears."
He tore open a small red packet and gracefully slid a rubber sheath down over his cock, then drizzled a bit more lube over it. Huling then steadied himself with a few deep breaths, pressed his aching dick against Aziraphale's stretched back door, and gave a push. Both of them groaned on the first shove, and Crowley responded, "Oh, fuck… I might pass out."
With two more strokes, Huling's shaft was buried completely. He urged Aziraphale upright, and held him across the torso for a few moments. Huling kissed his neck and shoulders, while he worked his own hips back and forth a bit, and the two of them breathed and moaned, bodies pressed together.
Into Aziraphale's ear, Huling said, "I really want to fuck you."
"Then do it."
"I want to push, fast and hard, listen to you whimper…"
"Do it!"
"But it will be over so soon…"
"Seize the moment, Huling," Crowley urged.
Huling smiled, and chuckled. "You're amazing. Both of you."
Aziraphale leaned slightly forward and braced his hands on Crowley's thighs. He felt Huling's strong, thick fingers wrap round his hips, and then felt the first hard slam. Then the next.
Huling bit his lower lip and moaned, and continued to thrust, clearly trying not to come too soon…
But then he let go of a bit of control, and began to pull back and forth fast and hard. He pounded Aziraphale's arse with gusto, watching his hard dick go in and out like a piston.
"Crowley…" Aziraphale breathed. "Oh, he feels different from you…"
"Yeah? Tell me how he feels," Crowley said, handling his own cock, his mouth just a couple of inches from that of his partner.
"He's like a machine."
"Spring-loaded for fucking! I agree, he's fantastic! I envy you a bit!"
"You should. It's glorious… oh… oh…"
"But no, it's all about you… he's been wanting you! Can you feel it?"
"I can, and I love how powerful and hungry he is!"
"I love seeing it," Crowley moaned. "I love watching you take it hard and fast!"
Huling was listening to their exchange, and it wasn't exactly helping… though not hindering his progress either. Actually, the intimacy of it was sort of lovely, in spite of it excluding him somewhat. Though, he could not forget, he had the best position in the house – the best, possibly, in the world. He growled a bit, and reupped his effort to take full advantage of the moment, to have this man as fully as he dared.
"Faster, harder…" Aziraphale breathed in response. "I love hearing that sound… his flesh slapping against mine!"
"It's one of my favourite sounds in the universe, angel," Crowley said, sitting forward to kiss his companion. His hands latched onto Aziraphale's jowls, and they let their tongues dance for a few moments, and Aziraphale moaned heartily. Crowley pulled away. "Your moan is my absolute favourite sound."
Aziraphale smiled, and moaned again, then, "Oh, Crowley, I love getting fucked like this!"
"I can tell. You look so beautiful this way."
"I do?"
"Are you kidding? Getting pounded, your tight little arse turning all pink and raw, panting like a slut…"
Aziraphale pushed forward for another hearty, moan-soaked kiss, and once again, he felt Crowley's tongue in his mouth, and Huling's cock in his back passage…
When he pulled away, he whispered, "Oh, it's so good… so good feeling both of you taking my insides…"
"So good, yes," Crowley responded. Then another kiss.
"My body is on fire."
"Mine too. When he's finished with you, I'm going to make you come so hard, you'll go blind."
Huling continued, but he was still listening.
"Yes," from Aziraphale, then another kiss, a few seconds long this time. "And I will do as well. I'll give all of myself to you."
Crowley kissed him back. "You're such an angel. So insatiable, so…"
And their lips met again, hard, passionately, and something happened.
Rather, something occurred to Huling.
He stopped what he was doing - though it took a Herculean effort. He gave Aziraphale one last embrace, and a kiss on the shoulder, and withdrew himself reluctantly. He took a seat on the sofa beside Crowley, in a position to watch what would happen next. He peeled off the condom and threw it aside, and just sat for a moment.
Twice he had been on the edge of coming, twice he had stopped, moved away… and now he knew why. There was this "quality" nagging at him, that made his favourite bookseller all the more painfully desirable, which he had only seen tonight. He had not been able to identify it, though now it seemed so bloody obvious. He now understood that he had waited, held back his orgasm, until he could see it in its glory.
"You all right?" Crowley asked him. And in fact, they both looked at Huling with concern.
"I'm fine. Please proceed."
"Sure?"
"Oh, yes. I'm just going to watch."
Aziraphale looked at Crowley, and contemplated him for a few lascivious moments. He then reached for the lubricant, lying nearby on the floor. "Lean back," he said with a certain command in his voice.
Crowley did as told, leaned back on the sofa, and brought his knees up to make room. Aziraphale drizzled a bit of slippery over his companion's puckering rosebud, making a mental note to find a good upholstery cleaner in the morning. He placed his fingers just there, ready to open Crowley up for the fray.
"Don't bother, angel," Crowley said, his hand catching his partner's wrist, his voice on the edge of a growl. "I can't wait."
"Are you certain?"
"Mm," Crowley moaned.
"Can I tell you the truth? I've been wanting to do this all evening," Aziraphale said to him, pressing his cock to the lubed-up hole, and pushing through carefully. He stopped, waited for Crowley's breath to equalise, then pushed further, slowly, burying himself completely. He left his pelvis in position for the time being, giving his partner time to adjust. He leaned forward and planted kisses all over the sinewy bare chest. He let his tongue escape a few times, and lap at the hot flesh. He whispered, "You are so sweet, so perfect."
He supported Crowley's legs with his arms, and he began to move. He pulled his hips back and forth slowly, concentrated, for the moment, more on the penetrating brown eyes than on anything he felt below the waist.
Beside them, Huling looked on, swatting away any pain and jealousy for the moment, and admiring the interaction, the skill, the concentration. He felt calm enough to begin stroking his cock, reasonably certain it wouldn't shoot off before he was ready.
The two lovers locked eyes, smiled softly at each other, finding a careful beat together. Every now and then, one of them sighed. Aziraphale bowed his head and kissed one of Crowley's knees, nestled in the crook of his arm. He did this several times. Crowley pressed his hands into his companion's chest, and closed his eyes. He lost himself for a few moments in the back and forth motion that he could feel against his palms, and in his backside. The perfect, flowing rhythm of life and desire, in and out, filling him, then pulling away, all the while listening to groans, breathing.
"Angel, you don't have to go slowly on my account," Crowley said, opening his eyes.
"I'm not," Aziraphale responded. "I'm just loving you."
Crowley nodded subtly. "Do what feels good."
"I am."
Crowley turned his head once again toward Huling, whose hand was moving over and over his own cock in the same rhythm as Aziraphale's moved inside of Crowley.
"Can you help you with that?" he asked.
Huling smiled softly. "Don't worry about me. Concentrate on what you have right in front of you."
Crowley turned back to Aziraphale and said, "You heard the man. You have my full attention."
Aziraphale said nothing, but pressed Crowley's legs back, and leaned far forward for a kiss. He plunged his tongue into that tempting mouth, devouring it, groaning, and increasing his rhythm.
When his mouth was free, Aziraphale whispered, "Good, because I want to give you everything I've got."
"That's it – fuck me good, angel. Hard." Again, Aziraphale increased his rhythm. He was now clearly on a forward climb toward orgasm, and there would be no turning back.
Crowley wrapped his hand around his own dick and began to pump quite earnestly.
Aziraphale smiled a bit at this. "Come with me?"
"When I feel you fill me up, angel, you won't be able to stop me."
"Yes, good, you feel so good, so warm and willing…. I want to come in you… soon…"
"Then don't stop fucking me, angel."
"I'll never stop," Aziraphale whispered. "Never."
All the while, their eyes were locked, their voices low, their attention focused, on one another, as though there were no-one else in the world, let alone in the room.
Crowley wanked himself, Huling did likewise, and Aziraphale pounded forward. Over and over again, and now the room filled his with his open-mouthed groans and the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh once again.
"You're close, angel, I can see it in your eyes," Crowley breathed. "Let yourself go! Fill me up with your come… make me all yours! The release will feel so good inside my arse… let it go!"
Aziraphale groaned, and momentarily closed his eyes when the first wave came over him. But as spurt after spurt began to flow out of him and into his partner's waiting, twitching body, he opened them, vindicated, claiming this man as his own.
Just as the fever was beginning to die down, jets of slippery cream spurted out of Crowley's dick, onto his stomach and hand. He, too, momentarily lost focus, but then refocused on the blue-eyed angel before him, and held that beautiful face in his gaze while he finished.
Aziraphale dragged two of his fingers through the pools of come on Crowley's stomach, then brought them to his mouth to taste. "Mm," he sighed, relishing in the salt, the passion, the warm proof of his lover's ardour for him.
And when they calmed, Aziraphale pulled back and rested on his haunches, Crowley sat upright, and both looked at Huling. He, too, had splattered slick, white come all over himself, and he was in the last phase of pumping… the liquid was still oozing out of the head of his cock, over his tight, slowing fingers. They watched him give his last pulse, his last groans, and then relax a bit. He took a few breaths, closed his eyes, and said to them, "That was absolutely stunning."
Well, you may be feeling that this chapter ends on something of a cliffhanger – you would not be wrong. Rest assured that in the final chapter, we will resolve Huling's story. There is still a moderate amount of validation and ineffable explication (oxymoron?) to do, so, do not fret.
And… what did you think of this chapter? Please leave a review with your thoughts – it would make my day! And as always, thank you for reading!