Keegan P. Russ

A way Keegan was able to defend his own brain from the horrors of war was through his mask. Having a way to ‘take away’ the military persona comforted him more than he’d let anyone know. {User} being the exception, of course.

Merrick knew about his response to war and respected it enough to not mention it to other recruits; it wasn’t important. Kick didn’t mind, Ajax obviously wouldn’t either, and neither did Elias. Hesh had questioned him within the first month, and Logan was too quiet to question anything. {User} had a response similar to Hesh, and {{sub}} got the same answer as him; Not the time for questions, kid. But something about {{obj}} made him want to answer. It felt like there was an unspoken understanding between the two of them.

Now, the two of them didn’t start off as close, but Keegan was the one to initiate anything. An invitation to lunch to discuss how {{poss}} training was going, the occasional early morning meet-up to grab coffee while it was still hot, and the constant partnering when it came to sparring. Realistically, {User} was a great competition. A bit of a dirty player, but it gave Keegan a few new moves to use on {{obj}} for next time. Then, it shifted to late night talks and the occasional silence between the two of them as Keegan smoked a joint. Solo missions, phone numbers exchanged for non-business purposes, favours exchanged.

The only reason it went further was because of a one-night hookup. It was supposed to mean nothing–it did mean nothing. There were no “I love you’s” or lip-kisses or make-out sessions. There was hard breathing and hickies and horny mocking that left {User} unable to look him in the eye for at least two days after. But due to them being a private military that operates on closeness, eye contact was almost entirely necessary in their line of work.

But...after that, something else came from it. Stress relief, maybe, or maybe just a way to relax. Maybe it gave Keegan something to look forward to. But either way, {User} became his at least once a month.

Tonight included.

Keegan was finally given a few days off from the military before his next mission, but he had decided to stick around at base. {User} was still on duty, so {{sub}} had to at least maintain that sleep schedule. Keegan would let {{obj}}, but not before getting what he wanted. And with how tightly {User} was clenching around him, he knew that feeling was more than mutual.

For the past five minutes, Keegan had been fucking {User} while keeping {{poss}} head pressed into the sheets. Five minutes of hearing those beautiful pants that escaped {{poss}} mouth, and five minutes of {User} hearing Keegan’s from behind the fabric of the mask. He had kept his body close to {User}’s, his mask nuzzling the corner of {{poss}} jaw any time he saw {{obj}} wince.

“That’s it,” he would breathe. “That’s my fucking soldier.”

Every few moments, Keegan would pull {{poss}} hips back against his, bending {{obj}} over and redirecting {{poss}} back to arch nicely, his hands fitting perfectly against the curve of {{poss}} spine. He hadn’t been rough; he’d been gentle. But his actions seemed to contradict it all. Keegan’s words were gentle, filled with adoration and respect, but any time he saw {User} slip, he was quick to adjust.

Each whimper caused Keegan to pull {{poss}} hair enough to bring {{poss}} head with it, forcing {{poss}} gaze against his.

Each shift would cause Keegan to connect his hand harshly against the skin of {{poss}} cheek.

But each time, he would soothe it. Every time he pulled {{poss}} hair, he’d rub his fingers against {{poss}} scalp to ease the frustration {{sub}} probably felt towards him. Each time he slapped {{poss}} gorgeous face, he’d use the warm breath coming from behind the mask to soothe the ache. Occasionally, a fabric-covered kiss would be given.

“I know,” he cooed. “It’s so good, isn’t it?” He let out a quiet hum against {{poss}} ear, leaning his weight against {{poss}} back. Then, a shift in his hips pulled his cock out of {{poss}} helpless body, drawing out an uncomfortable noise from below him. “Oh, what? If you need something, you have to use that beautiful voice. You don’t fucking whine for my cock, baby.”

With a quick turn, Keegan met {{obj}} against the sheets, but this time, he was the one lying down. He was flat on his back, his hands already working to pull {User}’s hips up and support {{obj}} until he could bring {{obj}} on his lap. One hand stayed on {{poss}} hip and the other rubbed his cock against {{poss}} hole.

“Come on. Put it in yourself, sweetheart.” Keegan’s hand moved to the back of {User}’s neck, bringing {{obj}} closer to him. He let {{obj}} rest {{poss}} head against his, a low mumble echoing from his throat that said, “Come on, baby. Let me see you ride it.”

Instead of seeing excitement or the immediate attempt to push his cock back in, Keegan saw something that signaled to humiliation. Excitement, maybe, but definitely a flustered reaction. His hand moved until the gloved fingers caressed the edge of {User}’s jaw. “What? I thought you liked the mask.”

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A way Keegan was able to defend his own brain from the horrors of war was through his mask. Having a way to ‘take away’ the military persona comforted him more than he’d let anyone know. {User} being the exception, of course.

Merrick knew about his response to war and respected it enough to not mention it to other recruits; it wasn’t important. Kick didn’t mind, Ajax obviously wouldn’t either, and neither did Elias. Hesh had questioned him within the first month, and Logan was too quiet to question anything. {User} had a response similar to Hesh, and {{sub}} got the same answer as him; Not the time for questions, kid. But something about {{obj}} made him want to answer. It felt like there was an unspoken understanding between the two of them.

Now, the two of them didn’t start off as close, but Keegan was the one to initiate anything. An invitation to lunch to discuss how {{poss}} training was going, the occasional early morning meet-up to grab coffee while it was still hot, and the constant partnering when it came to sparring. Realistically, {User} was a great competition. A bit of a dirty player, but it gave Keegan a few new moves to use on {{obj}} for next time. Then, it shifted to late night talks and the occasional silence between the two of them as Keegan smoked a joint. Solo missions, phone numbers exchanged for non-business purposes, favours exchanged.

The only reason it went further was because of a one-night hookup. It was supposed to mean nothing–it did mean nothing. There were no “I love you’s” or lip-kisses or make-out sessions. There was hard breathing and hickies and horny mocking that left {User} unable to look him in the eye for at least two days after. But due to them being a private military that operates on closeness, eye contact was almost entirely necessary in their line of work.

But...after that, something else came from it. Stress relief, maybe, or maybe just a way to relax. Maybe it gave Keegan something to look forward to. But either way, {User} became his at least once a month.

Tonight included.

Keegan was finally given a few days off from the military before his next mission, but he had decided to stick around at base. {User} was still on duty, so {{sub}} had to at least maintain that sleep schedule. Keegan would let {{obj}}, but not before getting what he wanted. And with how tightly {User} was clenching around him, he knew that feeling was more than mutual.

For the past five minutes, Keegan had been fucking {User} while keeping {{poss}} head pressed into the sheets. Five minutes of hearing those beautiful pants that escaped {User} behind the fabric of Keegan’s mask, and five minutes of {User} hearing Keegan’s harsh breaths. He had kept his body close to {User}’s, his face nuzzling the corner of {{poss}} masked jaw any time he saw {{obj}} wince.

“That’s it,” he would breathe. “That’s my fucking soldier. You look so good with my mask on, don’t you think?”

Every few moments, Keegan would pull {{poss}} hips back against his, bending {{obj}} over and redirecting {{poss}} back to arch nicely, his hands fitting perfectly against the curve of {{poss}} spine. He hadn’t been rough; he’d been gentle. But his actions seemed to contradict it all. Keegan’s words were gentle, filled with adoration and respect, but any time he saw {User} slip, he was quick to adjust.

Each whimper caused Keegan to pull {{poss}} hair enough to bring {{poss}} head with it, forcing {{poss}} gaze against his.

Each shift would cause Keegan to connect his hand harshly against the skin of {{poss}} cheek.

But each time, he would soothe it. Every time he pulled {{poss}} hair, he’d rub his fingers against {{poss}} scalp to ease the frustration {{sub}} probably felt towards him. Each time he slapped {{poss}} gorgeous face, he’d use the warm breath coming from his mouth to soothe the ache behind his mask plastered on {User}’s face. Occasionally, a fabric-covered kiss would be given.

“I know,” he cooed. “It’s so good, isn’t it?” He let out a quiet hum against {{poss}} ear, leaning his weight against {{poss}} back. Then, a shift in his hips pulled his cock out of {{poss}} helpless body, drawing out an uncomfortable noise from below him. “Oh, what? If you need something, you have to use that beautiful voice. You don’t fucking whine for my cock, baby.”

With a quick turn, Keegan met {{obj}} against the sheets, but this time, he was the one lying down. He was flat on his back, his hands already working to pull {User}’s hips up and support {{obj}} until he could bring {{obj}} on his lap. One hand stayed on {{poss}} hip and the other rubbed his cock against {{poss}} hole.

“Come on. Put it in yourself, sweetheart.” Keegan’s hand moved to the back of {User}’s neck, bringing {{obj}} closer to him. He let {{obj}} rest {{poss}} head against his, a low mumble echoing from his throat. His eyes filled with adoration at the sight of his person looking so worn out in his mask. “Come on, baby. Let me see you ride it. Let me see you struggle in my clothes.”

A way Keegan was able to defend his own brain from the horrors of war was through his mask. Having a way to ‘take away’ the military persona comforted him more than he’d let anyone know. {User} being the exception, of course.

Merrick knew about his response to war and respected it enough to not mention it to other recruits; it wasn’t important. Kick didn’t mind, Ajax obviously wouldn’t either, and neither did Elias. Hesh had questioned him within the first month, and Logan was too quiet to question anything. {User} had a response similar to Hesh, and {{sub}} got the same answer as him; Not the time for questions, kid. But something about {{obj}} made him want to answer. It felt like there was an unspoken understanding between the two of them.

Now, the two of them didn’t start off as close, but Keegan was the one to initiate anything. An invitation to lunch to discuss how {{poss}} training was going, the occasional early morning meet-up to grab coffee while it was still hot, and the constant partnering when it came to sparring. Realistically, {User} was a great competition. A bit of a dirty player, but it gave Keegan a few new moves to use on {{obj}} for next time. Then, it shifted to late night talks and the occasional silence between the two of them as Keegan smoked a joint. Solo missions, phone numbers exchanged for non-business purposes, favours exchanged.

The only reason it went further was because of a one-night hookup. It was supposed to mean nothing–it did mean nothing. There were no “I love you’s” or lip-kisses or make-out sessions. There was hard breathing and hickies and horny mocking that left {User} unable to look him in the eye for at least two days after. But due to them being a private military that operates on closeness, eye contact was almost entirely necessary in their line of work.

But...after that, something else came from it. Stress relief, maybe, or maybe just a way to relax. Maybe it gave Keegan something to look forward to. But either way, {User} became his at least once a month.

Tonight included.

Keegan was finally given a few days off from the military before his next mission, but he had decided to stick around at base. {User} was still on duty, so {{sub}} had to at least maintain that sleep schedule. Keegan would let {{obj}}, but not before getting what he wanted. And with how tightly {User} was clenching around him, he knew that feeling was more than mutual.

For the past five minutes, Keegan had been fucking {User} while keeping {{poss}} head pressed into the sheets. Five minutes of hearing those beautiful pants that escaped {{poss}} mouth, and five minutes of {User} hearing Keegan’s from behind the fabric of the mask. He had kept his body close to {User}’s, his mask nuzzling the corner of {{poss}} jaw any time he saw {{obj}} wince.

“That’s it,” he would breathe. “That’s my fucking boy.”

Every few moments, Keegan would pull {{poss}} hips back against his, bending {{obj}} over and redirecting {{poss}} back to arch nicely, his hands fitting perfectly against the curve of {{poss}} spine. He hadn’t been rough; he’d been gentle. But his actions seemed to contradict it all. Keegan’s words were gentle, filled with adoration and respect, but any time he saw {User} slip, he was quick to adjust.

Each whimper caused Keegan to pull {{poss}} hair enough to bring {{poss}} head with it, forcing {{poss}} gaze against his.

Each shift would cause Keegan to connect his hand harshly against the skin of {{poss}} cheek.

But each time, he would soothe it. Every time he pulled {{poss}} hair, he’d rub his fingers against {{poss}} scalp to ease the frustration {{sub}} probably felt towards him. Each time he slapped {{poss}} gorgeous face, he’d use the warm breath coming from behind the mask to soothe the ache. Occasionally, a fabric-covered kiss would be given.

“I know,” he cooed. “It’s so good, isn’t it?” He let out a quiet hum against {{poss}} ear, leaning his weight against {{poss}} back. Then, a shift in his hips pulled his cock out of {{poss}} helpless body, drawing out an uncomfortable noise from below him. “Oh, what? If you need something, you have to use that beautiful voice. You don’t fucking whine for my cock, baby.”

With a quick turn, Keegan met {{obj}} against the sheets, but this time, he was the one lying down. He was flat on his back, his hands already working to pull {User}’s hips up and support {{obj}} until he could bring {{obj}} on his lap. One hand stayed on {{poss}} hip and the other rubbed his cock against {{poss}} hole.

“Come on. Put it in yourself, sweetheart.” Keegan’s hand moved to the back of {User}’s neck, bringing {{obj}} closer to him. He let {{obj}} rest {{poss}} head against his, a low mumble echoing from his throat that said, “Come on, baby. Let me see you ride it.”

Instead of seeing excitement or the immediate attempt to push his cock back in, Keegan saw something that signaled to humiliation. Excitement, maybe, but definitely a flustered reaction. His hand moved until the gloved fingers caressed the edge of {User}’s jaw. “What? I thought you liked the mask.”

A way Keegan was able to defend his own brain from the horrors of war was through his mask. Having a way to ‘take away’ the military persona comforted him more than he’d let anyone know. {User} being the exception, of course.

Merrick knew about his response to war and respected it enough to not mention it to other recruits; it wasn’t important. Kick didn’t mind, Ajax obviously wouldn’t either, and neither did Elias. Hesh had questioned him within the first month, and Logan was too quiet to question anything. {User} had a response similar to Hesh, and {{sub}} got the same answer as him; Not the time for questions, kid. But something about {{obj}} made him want to answer. It felt like there was an unspoken understanding between the two of them.

Now, the two of them didn’t start off as close, but Keegan was the one to initiate anything. An invitation to lunch to discuss how {{poss}} training was going, the occasional early morning meet-up to grab coffee while it was still hot, and the constant partnering when it came to sparring. Realistically, {User} was a great competition. A bit of a dirty player, but it gave Keegan a few new moves to use on {{obj}} for next time. Then, it shifted to late night talks and the occasional silence between the two of them as Keegan smoked a joint. Solo missions, phone numbers exchanged for non-business purposes, favours exchanged.

The only reason it went further was because of a one-night hookup. It was supposed to mean nothing–it did mean nothing. There were no “I love you’s” or lip-kisses or make-out sessions. There was hard breathing and hickies and horny mocking that left {User} unable to look him in the eye for at least two days after. But due to them being a private military that operates on closeness, eye contact was almost entirely necessary in their line of work.

But...after that, something else came from it. Stress relief, maybe, or maybe just a way to relax. Maybe it gave Keegan something to look forward to. But either way, {User} became his at least once a month.

Tonight included.

Keegan was finally given a few days off from the military before his next mission, but he had decided to stick around at base. {User} was still on duty, so {{sub}} had to at least maintain that sleep schedule. Keegan would let {{obj}}, but not before getting what he wanted. And with how tightly {User} was clenching around him, he knew that feeling was more than mutual.

For the past five minutes, Keegan had been fucking {User} while keeping {{poss}} head pressed into the sheets. Five minutes of hearing those beautiful pants that escaped {User} behind the fabric of Keegan’s mask, and five minutes of {User} hearing Keegan’s harsh breaths. He had kept his body close to {User}’s, his face nuzzling the corner of {{poss}} masked jaw any time he saw {{obj}} wince.

“That’s it,” he would breathe. “That’s my fucking boy. You look so good with my mask on, don’t you think?”

Every few moments, Keegan would pull {{poss}} hips back against his, bending {{obj}} over and redirecting {{poss}} back to arch nicely, his hands fitting perfectly against the curve of {{poss}} spine. He hadn’t been rough; he’d been gentle. But his actions seemed to contradict it all. Keegan’s words were gentle, filled with adoration and respect, but any time he saw {User} slip, he was quick to adjust.

Each whimper caused Keegan to pull {{poss}} hair enough to bring {{poss}} head with it, forcing {{poss}} gaze against his.

Each shift would cause Keegan to connect his hand harshly against the skin of {{poss}} cheek.

But each time, he would soothe it. Every time he pulled {{poss}} hair, he’d rub his fingers against {{poss}} scalp to ease the frustration {{sub}} probably felt towards him. Each time he slapped {{poss}} gorgeous face, he’d use the warm breath coming from his mouth to soothe the ache behind his mask plastered on {User}’s face. Occasionally, a fabric-covered kiss would be given.

“I know,” he cooed. “It’s so good, isn’t it?” He let out a quiet hum against {{poss}} ear, leaning his weight against {{poss}} back. Then, a shift in his hips pulled his cock out of {{poss}} helpless body, drawing out an uncomfortable noise from below him. “Oh, what? If you need something, you have to use that beautiful voice. You don’t fucking whine for my cock, baby.”

With a quick turn, Keegan met {{obj}} against the sheets, but this time, he was the one lying down. He was flat on his back, his hands already working to pull {User}’s hips up and support {{obj}} until he could bring {{obj}} on his lap. One hand stayed on {{poss}} hip and the other rubbed his cock against {{poss}} hole.

“Come on. Put it in yourself, sweetheart.” Keegan’s hand moved to the back of {User}’s neck, bringing {{obj}} closer to him. He let {{obj}} rest {{poss}} head against his, a low mumble echoing from his throat. His eyes filled with adoration at the sight of his boy looking so worn out in his mask. “Come on, baby. Let me see you ride it. Let me see you struggle in my clothes.”

A way Keegan was able to defend his own brain from the horrors of war was through his mask. Having a way to ‘take away’ the military persona comforted him more than he’d let anyone know. {User} being the exception, of course.

Merrick knew about his response to war and respected it enough to not mention it to other recruits; it wasn’t important. Kick didn’t mind, Ajax obviously wouldn’t either, and neither did Elias. Hesh had questioned him within the first month, and Logan was too quiet to question anything. {User} had a response similar to Hesh, and {{sub}} got the same answer as him; Not the time for questions, kid. But something about {{obj}} made him want to answer. It felt like there was an unspoken understanding between the two of them.

Now, the two of them didn’t start off as close, but Keegan was the one to initiate anything. An invitation to lunch to discuss how {{poss}} training was going, the occasional early morning meet-up to grab coffee while it was still hot, and the constant partnering when it came to sparring. Realistically, {User} was a great competition. A bit of a dirty player, but it gave Keegan a few new moves to use on {{obj}} for next time. Then, it shifted to late night talks and the occasional silence between the two of them as Keegan smoked a joint. Solo missions, phone numbers exchanged for non-business purposes, favours exchanged.

The only reason it went further was because of a one-night hookup. It was supposed to mean nothing–it did mean nothing. There were no “I love you’s” or lip-kisses or make-out sessions. There was hard breathing and hickies and horny mocking that left {User} unable to look him in the eye for at least two days after. But due to them being a private military that operates on closeness, eye contact was almost entirely necessary in their line of work.

But...after that, something else came from it. Stress relief, maybe, or maybe just a way to relax. Maybe it gave Keegan something to look forward to. But either way, {User} became his at least once a month.

Tonight included.

Keegan was finally given a few days off from the military before his next mission, but he had decided to stick around at base. {User} was still on duty, so {{sub}} had to at least maintain that sleep schedule. Keegan would let {{obj}}, but not before getting what he wanted. And with how tightly {User} was clenching around him, he knew that feeling was more than mutual.

For the past five minutes, Keegan had been fucking {User} while keeping {{poss}} head pressed into the sheets. Five minutes of hearing those beautiful pants that escaped {{poss}} mouth, and five minutes of {User} hearing Keegan’s from behind the fabric of the mask. He had kept his body close to {User}’s, his mask nuzzling the corner of {{poss}} jaw any time he saw {{obj}} wince.

“That’s it,” he would breathe. “That’s my fucking girl.”

Every few moments, Keegan would pull {{poss}} hips back against his, bending {{obj}} over and redirecting {{poss}} back to arch nicely, his hands fitting perfectly against the curve of {{poss}} spine. He hadn’t been rough; he’d been gentle. But his actions seemed to contradict it all. Keegan’s words were gentle, filled with adoration and respect, but any time he saw {User} slip, he was quick to adjust.

Each whimper caused Keegan to pull {{poss}} hair enough to bring {{poss}} head with it, forcing {{poss}} gaze against his.

Each shift would cause Keegan to connect his hand harshly against the skin of {{poss}} cheek.

But each time, he would soothe it. Every time he pulled {{poss}} hair, he’d rub his fingers against {{poss}} scalp to ease the frustration {{sub}} probably felt towards him. Each time he slapped {{poss}} gorgeous face, he’d use the warm breath coming from behind the mask to soothe the ache. Occasionally, a fabric-covered kiss would be given.

“I know,” he cooed. “It’s so good, isn’t it?” He let out a quiet hum against {{poss}} ear, leaning his weight against {{poss}} back. Then, a shift in his hips pulled his cock out of {{poss}} helpless body, drawing out an uncomfortable noise from below him. “Oh, what? If you need something, you have to use that beautiful voice. You don’t fucking whine for my cock, baby.”

With a quick turn, Keegan met {{obj}} against the sheets, but this time, he was the one lying down. He was flat on his back, his hands already working to pull {User}’s hips up and support {{obj}} until he could bring {{obj}} on his lap. One hand stayed on {{poss}} hip and the other rubbed his cock against {{poss}} hole.

“Come on. Put it in yourself, sweetheart.” Keegan’s hand moved to the back of {User}’s neck, bringing {{obj}} closer to him. He let {{obj}} rest {{poss}} head against his, a low mumble echoing from his throat that said, “Come on, baby. Let me see you ride it.”

Instead of seeing excitement or the immediate attempt to push his cock back in, Keegan saw something that signaled to humiliation. Excitement, maybe, but definitely a flustered reaction. His hand moved until the gloved fingers caressed the edge of {User}’s jaw. “What? I thought you liked the mask.”

A way Keegan was able to defend his own brain from the horrors of war was through his mask. Having a way to ‘take away’ the military persona comforted him more than he’d let anyone know. {User} being the exception, of course.

Merrick knew about his response to war and respected it enough to not mention it to other recruits; it wasn’t important. Kick didn’t mind, Ajax obviously wouldn’t either, and neither did Elias. Hesh had questioned him within the first month, and Logan was too quiet to question anything. {User} had a response similar to Hesh, and {{sub}} got the same answer as him; Not the time for questions, kid. But something about {{obj}} made him want to answer. It felt like there was an unspoken understanding between the two of them.

Now, the two of them didn’t start off as close, but Keegan was the one to initiate anything. An invitation to lunch to discuss how {{poss}} training was going, the occasional early morning meet-up to grab coffee while it was still hot, and the constant partnering when it came to sparring. Realistically, {User} was a great competition. A bit of a dirty player, but it gave Keegan a few new moves to use on {{obj}} for next time. Then, it shifted to late night talks and the occasional silence between the two of them as Keegan smoked a joint. Solo missions, phone numbers exchanged for non-business purposes, favours exchanged.

The only reason it went further was because of a one-night hookup. It was supposed to mean nothing–it did mean nothing. There were no “I love you’s” or lip-kisses or make-out sessions. There was hard breathing and hickies and horny mocking that left {User} unable to look him in the eye for at least two days after. But due to them being a private military that operates on closeness, eye contact was almost entirely necessary in their line of work.

But...after that, something else came from it. Stress relief, maybe, or maybe just a way to relax. Maybe it gave Keegan something to look forward to. But either way, {User} became his at least once a month.

Tonight included.

Keegan was finally given a few days off from the military before his next mission, but he had decided to stick around at base. {User} was still on duty, so {{sub}} had to at least maintain that sleep schedule. Keegan would let {{obj}}, but not before getting what he wanted. And with how tightly {User} was clenching around him, he knew that feeling was more than mutual.

For the past five minutes, Keegan had been fucking {User} while keeping {{poss}} head pressed into the sheets. Five minutes of hearing those beautiful pants that escaped {User} behind the fabric of Keegan’s mask, and five minutes of {User} hearing Keegan’s harsh breaths. He had kept his body close to {User}’s, his face nuzzling the corner of {{poss}} masked jaw any time he saw {{obj}} wince.

“That’s it,” he would breathe. “That’s my fucking girl. You look so good with my mask on, don’t you think?”

Every few moments, Keegan would pull {{poss}} hips back against his, bending {{obj}} over and redirecting {{poss}} back to arch nicely, his hands fitting perfectly against the curve of {{poss}} spine. He hadn’t been rough; he’d been gentle. But his actions seemed to contradict it all. Keegan’s words were gentle, filled with adoration and respect, but any time he saw {User} slip, he was quick to adjust.

Each whimper caused Keegan to pull {{poss}} hair enough to bring {{poss}} head with it, forcing {{poss}} gaze against his.

Each shift would cause Keegan to connect his hand harshly against the skin of {{poss}} cheek.

But each time, he would soothe it. Every time he pulled {{poss}} hair, he’d rub his fingers against {{poss}} scalp to ease the frustration {{sub}} probably felt towards him. Each time he slapped {{poss}} gorgeous face, he’d use the warm breath coming from his mouth to soothe the ache behind his mask plastered on {User}’s face. Occasionally, a fabric-covered kiss would be given.

“I know,” he cooed. “It’s so good, isn’t it?” He let out a quiet hum against {{poss}} ear, leaning his weight against {{poss}} back. Then, a shift in his hips pulled his cock out of {{poss}} helpless body, drawing out an uncomfortable noise from below him. “Oh, what? If you need something, you have to use that beautiful voice. You don’t fucking whine for my cock, baby.”

With a quick turn, Keegan met {{obj}} against the sheets, but this time, he was the one lying down. He was flat on his back, his hands already working to pull {User}’s hips up and support {{obj}} until he could bring {{obj}} on his lap. One hand stayed on {{poss}} hip and the other rubbed his cock against {{poss}} hole.

“Come on. Put it in yourself, sweetheart.” Keegan’s hand moved to the back of {User}’s neck, bringing {{obj}} closer to him. He let {{obj}} rest {{poss}} head against his, a low mumble echoing from his throat. His eyes filled with adoration at the sight of his girl looking so worn out in his mask. “Come on, baby. Let me see you ride it. Let me see you struggle in my clothes.”