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“This is Shane Hollander’s fortress of solitude. Here in eastern Quebec is the house he had built on a private lake,” the woman’s voice echoed in his 100 inch TV.
“It’s my favorite place on Earth,” Shane said, tone monotonous like always, “and my parent’s cottage, the one I grew up spending my summers at, is seven minutes away”
“I’m ready,” said Svetlana, walking towards him with her high heels on hands. “Unless you have decided to stay at home and watch…” she turned to the TV, which was showing Shane with his ass in the air, both hands on the ground. “Whatever this is.”
As he lowered his body on the floor and stretched his spine, looking upwards, Ilya mumbled. "I'm sorry. This is so boring I almost fell into a coma.”
She bit her lips, looking very attentively to Shane’s body. “Mmh. He is hot, though.”
He is.
Fuck, he is so fucking hot.
Ilya couldn’t take his mind off the view of him stretching that plump ass in the air, bending his body lower and lower. He watched it on the TV more times than he should have, palming on his pants as he gathered memories of how he looked from behind.
He wanted Shane so fucking bad.
They met regularly in between games, and when they didn’t meet, Ilya came back to the same boring documentary. “This is Shane Hollander’s fortress of solitude,” the TV announced and his dick already knew what it meant.
He seemed to never get tired of watching how his muscles tensed around his thighs when he pushed his hips in the air, or how his toned arms looked fucking strong stretched like that. Ilya was sure Shane picked those boring ass clothes with nothing in his mind in particular, but fuck, that tight shorts looked so tiny on him–
And there he was. Cumming again, like a teenager, watching Shane Hollander show his yoga skills for a lame documentary.
・・・
Boston won that night, so Ilya got to choose how they would fuck.
He had his legs spread across the bed, laying down as Shane was riding. He arched beautifully, rocking lazily back and forth. The view was absolute perfection – he could trace his broad shoulders and admire how his muscles flexed as he angled his hips to fit Ilya’s cock inside that beautiful round ass.
Ilya gave him a loud slap.
“Jesus, Rozanov,” Shane protested, but it didn’t sound like a complaint. Instead, his head fell forward and he pushed himself harder against Ilya.
“You’re tired?” Ilya teased.
“Fuck off.”
“I’m trying to fuck, but I guess you're not.”
“You fucking–” Shane started saying, but chose to act rather than talk.
He bent his body forward and used those hips to slam his ass up and down harder, steadily, looking backwards to see Ilya’s face. He moaned, watching his hole swallow him whole.
“Mmh, better,” he squeezed his asscheek, giving him one more slap. “Come on, more.”
“Fucker–” Shane’s voice faltered and he hid his face onto the bed. He could see his skin starting to glow from the effort.
“You’re out of practice, Hollander,” he touched his back from beginning to end. When he reached his hips, he held him there, buried deep inside him, being rewarded with a sweet gasp. “Today drained you, huh?”
“God, Rozanov, can you stop with that?”
“With what? With this?” he bulked his hips up once. “You want to stop?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you mean. Face in the fucking mattress,” he ordered. Shane obeyed immediately. They could chirp and try to get under each other’s skin as much as they wanted. In the end, they would always give what the other asked in bed.
He pulled back to plant kisses down his spine. And, taking advantage of the position, he pressed his tongue on his rim, slick with lube. Shane moaned loudly as Ilya kissed his hole like he had kissed his lips for 20 minutes non stop earlier. He pulled back, admiring how wet he was.
Ilya wanted more.
He pressed his tongue inside his hole briefly, opening him up. Then, gathered saliva and spit inside, rubbing it around his rim as well. “Rozanov–” Shane called for him, pushing his body towards his face.
He knew what that meant. He knew more about him than he should.
“Shhh,” he shushed, straightening up. Gave him a slap in the ass, just to reward him for being a good boy and staying on his hands and knees. He lined himself and pushed inside, feeling Shane relax not only around him, but onto the mattress.
Ilya held him by the hips and fucked him hard and steady, watching his ass wiggle each time their body met halfway.
“You like better this way, huh?” he teased.
Shane did nothing but moan.
“I’m talking to you,” he slapped his ass, making him gasp. “You like being manhandled, don’t you?”
He laughed. “Big word.”
Ilya smiled wide. “Big cock too.”
“Yeah, I can–” a groan. “–feel it.”
“Yeah?”
Shane nodded. “Deep.”
He bit his lip and inhaled loudly, rocking with so much force Shane’s body moved forward a little.
“F-uck,” his voice cut in between moans and whimpers.
Ilya grabbed him by the shoulders, maintaining that strength of thrusts - he wanted to hear that sound again.
“Fuck, Rozanov,” he groaned, reaching behind to grab his thighs.
He looked at his hand and pulled one to his lower back, holding it there. Shane offered the other one submissively, which made his balls tightened a little bit too soon - he couldn’t cum yet. They only had this night to enjoy each other, he wanted more.
“Look at me,” he asked. Shane looked above his shoulder, eyes sparkly and watery. He caressed his neck and his hair, wanting to pull it, to kiss it, to smell it, to pet for hours and hours and wake up to it tickling his face. “So pretty.”
Shane whimpered.
He didn’t like being called pretty, but who could blame Ilya? English was a limited language for what Shane was. He had to settle with ‘pretty’.
Ilya watched his lips press into a pout and snapped. He pulled his arms by the wrists, making his back arch. With one hand, he embraced his chest, the other flying to his throat.
“So good for me,” he praised, mouthing on the side of his neck. Shane cried out.
He lifts his head to look at his face, only to find his teary eyes looking directly into his own. Dark and half-lidded, so fucking beautiful. Ilya wanted to wreck him. He leaned and kissed him - kind of weirdly, because the position didn’t let them do much.
Ilya fucked him hard, watching how pretty he looked arched towards him, maybe prettier than when he arched forward. He didn’t release Shane until he came, following right after - taking the condom out to paint his whole back.
“Fuck–” Shane sounded breathless. “You– you made a mess, you asshole!”
He was already grabbing a towel.
“I’m already cleaning you up, calm down.”
Shane kept laying down until Ilya finished cleaning his back, then turned for him to clean his stomach as well.
“Your back hurt?”
“Huh?”
“Does your back hurt? I don’t know if I pulled you too much.”
“Oh,” he sounded surprised. “No, I’m ok.”
“Good stretch.”
Shane laughed, and then agreed. “Good stretch.”
・・・
So Shane Hollander was fucking elastic.
Ilya had his mind in other places when he watched him stretch in the ice.
“Looking like you want to kill someone, Roz,” Cliff Marlow skated in front of him, disturbing his view.
“Shut your idiot face, Marly.”
“Seeing red already?”
In fact, he was. Not for what Marlow would think.
The same eyes that stared at him in the face-offs, stared at him while he swallowed his entire length.
“Fuck, Rozanov,” Shane muttered, gripping on his golden curls.
He drooled, making everything excessively wet. He cupped Shane’s drenched balls, pulling a bit with one hand, while the other fingered him deep. He didn’t need to look to know his eyes were rolling to the back of his head.
“Get off– ‘m gonna cum–” he cried out.
As if.
“Roz–” his voice cut as Ilya fucked his own throat to the point he knew his own voice would sound like shit the other day.
He swallowed every drop. Shane lay there, whacked. Ilya smiled at him and kissed his stomach, chest, neck.
“I told you to stop!” He protested.
“Mm, no. You told me to get off cause you’re gonna cum. That means swallow my cum.”
Shane laughed. “What?! It means stop, because I want to cum while you fuck me, asshole.”
“Well, you still can.”
“I don’t think I can get hard again after–”
Ilya had already started palming his balls. Shane closed his eyes.
He chuckled. “You were saying?”
“Shut up. Kiss me,” Shane demanded.
And Ilya gave it to him. He kissed him hungrily, giving Shane his own taste to prove and he licked it all. Groaning into each other's mouths, they pressed their cocks together while making out.
Shane grabbed Ilya’s cock and jerked him off slowly, kissing his neck. He looked down to see Shane’s erection there and chuckled.
“Couldn't get hard, huh?”
“Yeah. And I doubt I can cum again, too,” he said, with a spark of challenge in those beautiful brown eyes. Ilya knew what he meant. I dare you to make me cum.
Ilya smiled. “I'll see what I can do.”
Leaning down, he pressed gentle kisses on his neck right before reaching to the drawer on the bedside. He tore condom package open and rolled in on his cock. Shane, not wanting to waste any more time, squeezed the lube and spread it on his shaft.
“Jesus, you're making a mess,” Ilya took some that dripped and spread on his hole.
“I'm trying to,” Shane replied slyly, making him chuckle. He was guiding Ilya toward himself, lining his cock on his entrance, pressing his hand on Ilya's hips to make him move. Sighing with the intrusion, he wrapped his arms on Ilya's neck and kissed him.
Sometimes it was like this. Soft, slow. Moments where they would giggle and allow their bodies to feel everything. A breath of fresh air that Ilya could have only between four walls and this particular hockey player.
The baddest idea he's ever had for the best moments he'd ever share with anyone.
He held Shane's body tight, moving his hips in a steady pace as they kissed. It was fucking hot and so, so comfortable. Only when Shane started to sound more eager, he pulled them apart to watch his half-lid stare.
“Rozanov,” Shane called.
“Yeah?”
“Fuck me.”
He didn't need to ask twice.
Ilya shifted their position just a bit to grab him by the hips, to make it easier to fuck him merciless, but a loud moan escaped Shane's lips and he just knew he hit him good.
“Fuck, fuck, there.”
He held him and slammed once, twice, earning that sweet sound once more, and then rocked hard on that same angle. Shane closed his eyes and dropped his head on the mattress, holding his own thigh to not change his position at all.
“Right there, please, please.”
Ilya felt himself get dizzy. He was only breathing through his mouth at this point, panting as he fucked him merciless. The view was so fucking hot, having him all open for him.
Spread open for him, only for him.
He held the inside of his thighs, pressing it down. “Spread it for me,” he demanded. Shane relaxed his muscles, his legs stretching wide easily. “Wider.”
Shane opened his eyes and adjusted his torso. Ilya pressed more. Shane grabbed his ankles, pushing his own legs as wide as he could.
Ilya could barely breathe.
“Fuck,” he felt his balls tighten. “Ты сводишь меня com ума.”"You make me crazy."
“Cum for me, Rozanov.”
And he was gone.
He came so hard he let his body fall on top of Shane, being wrapped by his legs.
“О Боже... Это было прекрасно.”"Oh my God… This was perfect."
“Came so hard your mind ended up in Russia?”
He held his laughter.
“You're not funny.”
“If you say so.”
Ilya raised himself to kiss his lips, slowly licking into his mouth, feeling his cock twitch.
“Now I make you cum.”
“Want me to spread my legs again?”
Fuck, he loved fucking Shane Hollander.
・・・
At this point, Ilya was determined to fuck him in every existing yoga position. He even googled them to plan how he should make Shane's body move to work it out.
He only hoped he wasn't doing something extremely sacrilegious.
Well, God forbid a man wanting to fuck another man.
But he had to be subtle. He couldn't say “Hey, Hollander, I watched your documentary and saw you do yoga now. Can you do yoga while we fuck?” He wasn't crazy. Shane probably would think he was a fucking fan for watching his lame boring useless documentary.
The same documentary he used as porn. Where he touched the ground with his ass up.
So, he was determined to fuck him in that same position.
But Shane was too stubborn.
“Why the floor? There is a perfectly functional bed right here.”
“Hollander, stop being boring, I wanna try something new.”
“I don't want to put my face on this floor.”
“I'm not saying I will put your face there, what the fuck?”
“You always push me down, or step on my fucking head, I know you damn well.”
Ilya rolled his eyes. “Okay, get on the bed then. I'm getting soft.” He wasn't.
Shane seemed to consider a bit.
“What exactly do you wanna do?”
He almost showed how excited he was.
“Look. I just want you to hold onto the bed while I fuck you.”
“Oh,” he lifted his eyebrows. “That's it?”
“What, you were expecting ropes and whips, you freak?”
He blushed so hard even his neck became red. “Fuck you!”
“You were?” Ilya lifted his eyebrows, walking towards him to grab his waist. “You want to be tied up? Spanked?”
“Rozanov, I'm gonna go if you don't shut up.”
“This wasn't enough?” He pressed his fingers on the bruises of his ribs that were starting to show, made by himself hours ago.
Shane hissed, but Ilya caught his cock twitching
“Fuck off, you fucking asshole.”
“No,” Ilya turned him backwards, resting his cock in between his ass cheeks. “I'm gonna fuck you.”
In less than ten minutes, Ilya was on his knees with his face buried in Shane's balls while he stayed there, standing up. He fucked two fingers inside his hole as Shane gripped his hair, pulling him closer and closer.
Shane groaned loudly when he brushed his fingers on that sweet sweet spot over and over.
When he leaned forward and gripped the bed, Ilya got up. He kept Shane where he was, with his feet on the floor, standing up, arching for him. His already covered and slick cock entered his gaping hole fast, making Shane gasp.
He needed to take advantage of that position as soon as possible.
Ilya jerked his hips hard, barely giving him time to get used to the intrusion. “Fuck, fuck– yes, yes,” Shane cried out.
Ilya loved how he loved it rough.
He held his hips and slammed over and over, forcing him to grip onto the bed. He caressed his broad back adoringly, from the shoulders to the bruise on his ribs. He brushed his fingertips there softly.
Shane shivered.
Then, he gripped there and Shane moaned.
“Bad?” He asked.
“Keep going,” Shane sounded breathless.
Ilya kept his hand there, without pressing any harder. He used his other hand to brush his fingers on the other side, enjoying how his skin showed tiny bumps from the goosebumps that kind of caress provoked.
“Rozanov,” Shane's voice cracked, shivering.
He released his hips and slapped his ass, focusing on fucking him hard. Shane moaned loudly. He noticed how his hands were not gripping the sheets.
It was time.
Ilya took one step back and pulled Shane's body towards him, making his body weight tilt forward quickly. Shane had to put both hands on the floor.
He smiled wide, triumphant.
“What the f– oh, fuck,” Shane started complaining, being interrupted by a slap on his right side, then the left, then the right again.
Then Ilya put his hand on his reddened rib, not pressing, just there, fucking as Shane moaned.
“Cum for me, Hollander,” he pleaded.
Shane's body obeyed him in no time, making a mess on the floor and on his chest and thick thighs. Ilya followed him, fulfilling the fantasy from years – okay, not entirely. He needed to do it in that stupidly gigantic cottage to consider it successfully completed.
“Oh my God.”
“Come to the bed,” Ilya pulled him, making him lay down on his chest.
“That was fucking hot.”
Ilya chuckled. “I didn't hurt you?” He inspected his ribs. “I thought it wasn't really bad, that's why I pressed.”
“It was good,” Shane smiled, relaxing. “You know I kinda like it.”
“You're a slut, Hollander.”
“I won't get hard again. Stop it.”
“I wasn't trying to get you hard, fucking slut.”
“You’re doing it again. Stop. I'm tired.”
“God,” Ilya exhaled. “Kinky slut. I'm gonna take a quick shower. Wait here, okay?”
“For what? I gotta go.”
“I'm gonna suck you off one more time.”
“Oh, absolutely not! I'm leaving.”
Ilya started whining. “Come on, Hollander, I need to clean you up.”
“Then grab a towel or something.”
“It's better to use my mouth.”
“That's not cleaning.”
“So, you'll stay?”
He stared at Ilya for a bit, considering. Then gulped. “Grab the towel.”
Ilya swallowed the lump in his throat.
“Okay.”
・・・
Compatible.
The word echoed inside Ilya’s head over and over again, through the whole day.
When Shane brushed his body on him to go ‘for a walk’, compatible. When he later watched Ilya play with the kids in the pool, and Ilya caught him giggling, compatible. When Ilya asked for money to give said kids chocolates and he just glared, compatible. When he matched Shane’s speed in the ice – the way only he could do, but now not to chase or steal his puck, but to combine their skills, compatible. When he banged his stick on the ice, and Ilya flicked his wrist immediately, and they scored, together, compatible. When he kissed his cheeks and watched it go red, red, red, so pretty, coloring those beautiful freckles, compatible.
When they brushed their fingers in the sand, compatible.
He knew what that meant. He knew before rushing to Google it and read “compatible describes things, people, or ideas that can exist, live, or work together successfully without conflict or problems” over and over and over and over again.
Did they fight? Was the breakup definitive? Why weren't they compatible? Did Shane want something more serious and she didn’t? Did he propose and she said no? Did she? He couldn’t marry her, he just couldn’t – it was all Ilya had in his mind while Shane crossed that bar towards him.
But did he love her? Does he love her?
He shouldn’t care. He didn’t have any right to. But here he was, feeling like his chest was going to burst as he waited for him to arrive.
“Here,” the screen lit up with a message from ‘Jane’.
Shane walked in, going straight to the bed. He looked tight, tense. “This looks serious.”
He didn’t think he was going to be crying in Shane’s arms a few minutes later. He didn’t think he was part of the reason Rose and him weren’t compatible. He didn’t think those things would feel so good either. So compatible.
Their bodies were pressed against each other like they were glued together. Shane caressed his back and his neck and his hair and he felt so bluntly accepted. Like he wasn’t wrong for snapping at him unfairly, or for laughing at him irresponsibly when he started saying such vulnerable things.
“I’m sorry,” his voice sounded muffled against Shane’s chest.
“You don’t have to say that.”
“No, I–” he pulled back to look into Shane’s eyes.
“Ilya.”
He shut up immediately. Shane caressed his cheek and gave him a peck on the lips. He held him by the hips and licked his mouth, because he couldn’t accept only that touch. Shane sucked on his tongue and hugged him tight.
Ilya didn’t know how long they kissed, nor when they took their clothes off. He just knew how good it felt having his hot skin against his. How he could inhale his breathing in between their kisses, and how sweet and soft everything felt.
They only break their skin to skin contact to reach over to the lube. Ilya grabbed the bottle inside the bedside table as Shane reached for the condoms inside the pocket of his discarded pants.
Even working him open was different this time. They lay down on their side, kissing and panting into each other’s mouths. Shane had his leg wrapped around Ilya’s body as he kissed his throat and fingered him deep.
“I need you,” he pleaded.
So Ilya gave what he needed. What they both needed.
He took him inch by inch with his eyes closed, laying on his back, moaning when their hips met with the prettiest of sounds. And in every thrust, his huffs sounded like prayers.
“I missed it so much,” Ilya whispered, kissing his eyelids.
“You did?”
“So much.”
They smiled at each other and kissed.
For a while, their movements were steady, in a pace where they could kiss and giggle. But it eventually became more desperate. Their bodies glowed with sweat, not from the weather but from the effort of moving against each other.
“You feel so good, Shane,” Ilya praised.
Shane threw his head back, huffing, and released the hands he had wrapped around his neck. “Fuck me. Please.”
He brought Shane’s legs up to his shoulders, not pulling back from him once. He needed to be inside him for as long as he could. Shane moaned – Ilya knew damn well he loved how this position made it go deeper.
He fucked him hard, watching how red was his pretty face. Shane let out a particularly loud moan, biting on his hand to prevent it from happening again – they couldn’t be loud in hotel rooms. But fuck, Ilya wanted him to be.
So he held him tight and thrust over and over on that same spot. Shane squirmed and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Fuck,” Ilya whispered and leaned his body forward to kiss him.
Shane was fucking folded like this, with his legs on top of Ilya’s shoulders, knees against his own chest, supporting his body weight. Yoga was fucking amazing, Ilya couldn’t get enough.
He held Shane like that, with his thighs against his chest, thrusting as he watched his leaking cock get his stomach damped.
“Fuck, Ilya,” Shane whimpered and Ilya felt like crying.
He was desperate to watch him cum, to watch him getting dirty with his own release. So he pushed his thighs back, all the way, until his foot touched the bed underneath him. With Shane all pretty and spread for him, he groaned loudly, shamelessly.
“You take me so good,” he praised, cupping his balls. “So pretty like this. Cum for me, Shane.”
He took not more than a few thrusts before spurting on his own face. Ilya followed, cumming so hard his head was dizzy.
His body fell on top of Shane’s and they hugged, trying to catch their breath.
“Rozanov–” he groaned after some time. “My face is all dirty, you fucker.”
Ilya woke up from the post-orgasm trance. “Fuck. Wait a minute, I’m gonna clean you up.”
He ran to the toilet and grabbed a towel, wetting her with warm water.
“You look beautiful like this,” he said as he did his best to clean his skin. Shane rolled his eyes. “It’s true.”
“It’s disgusting.”
“I think maybe you like it.”
Shane smiled. “I guess we’re compatible, then.”
・・・・・
“Wait, you saw that?!” Shane exclaimed.
“Yeah, I needed something to sleep, so.”
Ilya shrugged and swam around a little more. The weather was a little bit too warm, but the water was slightly cool, so it was perfect. He wanted to sink Shane there. The urge to just grab him by the waist and pull him under was dizzying, a sweet, ridiculous warmth settling in his chest just by watching Shane try to process it all.
“How is the water?”
“You’re in it.”
“Yeah, but I want to know how you like them.”
Instead of answering, Ilya grinned and pushed the water, splashing a heavy wave of water straight into Shane’s face.
“What the fuck? What if my phone was in my pocket?”
“Oh, it’s not, it’s on the table, it’s been ringing all morning.”
And it was his father, trying to ask about his charger or soap, whatever, he didn’t even register. He didn’t get an answer, so he just came by. And caught them kissing.
He had never seen Shane so distressed.
Never, in all these years, even when the Metros didn’t make it to the playoffs, even when he lost the chance to win the cup because of a hurt goalie.
He paced around the room back and forth, running his hands through his hair. Ilya did his best to take care of him, to calm him down, but it really didn’t feel enough.
He didn’t know, for a fact, how his parents would react. But he knew how much Shane loved them. He saw how they cared for him.
It was one of the first things Shane had told him on the day they met. About his parents. That they were there to watch him, thrilled for him.
And when they got to be in the Olympics, his mother was bummed she couldn’t go, but was planning to wake up extra early to see everything.
Ilya noticed them in their games, privileged seats and all, cheering when Shane scored, frowning when Ilya did.
He knew Shane shouldn’t be afraid.
So, they went to their house. And Ilya got to live the best day of his life.
He was treated with respect – David’s teasing was not disrespectful at all, come on, we’re talking about the hockey terror. He was fed. He was good there, with his boyfriend.
The drive back was blissful. Their backs against the sun as it shone high in the sky. He rested his hands on the back of Shane’s neck. The man who wanted to have a future with him.
When they arrived, he didn’t push Shane at all. He didn’t want to see his body bend and stretch in ways he imagined night after night in those hotel rooms, alone. He wanted to make love, kiss his freckles and adore his body like the god he was.
He whispered a thousand ‘I love you's on his lips, and after he came, he hid his face on his chest so he wouldn’t see him crying.
・・・
Groupchat/To: Jane
Today 03:58PM
Jane:
I just remembered something
Jane:
You watched my documentary
Lily:
what
Lily:
what documentary
Jane:
About the cottage
Jane:
Don’t act like you don’t know what it is, you’ve said you watched it already
Lily:
yes, i watched your boring documentary
Jane:
Yeah, I know
Jane:
Lily:
i was trying to sleep
Jane:
Oh, I see. That’s why you watched it every night from december to june
Lily:
um
Jane:
Next time maybe remember to log out from your account
Lily:
that’s hacker
Lily:
hacker did that
Lily:
the account is not mine
Jane:
Sure
Jane:
You can admit you’re my fan now, Rozanov
Lily:
i’m not
Lily:
i’m fan of your ass
Jane:
Excuse me? You were watching it because of my ass?
Lily:
jerkoff material
Jane:
What?!
Jane:
You were sexualizing me this whole time?
Lily:
...
Jane:
I can’t believe you
Jane:
Oh my fucking God
Lily:
are you mad?
Jane:
Fuck yes, I am
Lily:
i’m sorry
Jane:
I just can’t believe you were doing this to a recorded video
Lily:
???
Lily:
what
Jane:
I wanna watch you too
Jane:
Why didn’t you just ask me?
Lily:
are you fucking serious????
Lily:
wait are you hard?
Jane:
Yes
Lily:
thinking about me jerking off to you??
Jane:
Yes
Lily:
fuck
Lily:
but you wanna know why this documentary is my favorite?
Jane:
Why?
Jane:
You like buildings as much as I do? I knew it
Lily:
no
Lily:
yoga
Jane:
Yoga?
Lily:
so fucking hot
Jane:
Oh
Jane:
Oh.
Jane:
Wow
Jane:
Ok
Jane:
I get it now
Jane:
That time you made me open my legs…?
Lily:
yes
Lily:
was trying to do yoga fuck
Jane:
You could’ve asked, you know?
Jane:
To do some positions
Lily:
oh yes tell my hookup i jerk off to him every other night
Jane:
So you admitted
Lily:
so
Lily:
can we? do positions?
Jane:
Yes
Jane:
I have some ideas
Lily:
jiodsnopowqjd
Lily:
relally?
Jane:
Really
Lily:
what positioogn
Lily:
?
Jane:
We’re gonna have to wait to see each other
Jane:
So I guess I’ll show you another time
Lily:
NO
Lily:
no
Lily:
nonoon call me
Lily:
show me in video
Jane:
Call you?
Lily:
yes
Jane:
Do you think I’m gonna call you when you’re using that tone?
Lily:
what
Jane:
Say please
Lily:
oh fuck
Lily:
please hollander please call me
Lily:
i need to see you im so hard
Jane:
Good boy