[it's also the furthest thing from the electrodes they'd put on his cock when kavinsky was in the hospital. he remembers how confused he'd been at first, the feel of plastic parts and pliant wires dangling, the latex-gloved hands moving around his dick. he had screamed and fought and then he'd stared in silence, promising murder with his stare, until he couldn't because they strapped his head in place in front of the vids with something that wouldn't let him close his eyes.
this, this moment with murphy, murphy's boyish shriek of outrage and murphy's eager mouth on his cock— this turns in an entirely different universe.]
Fuck, [he says, which is nothing except ruder than anything he's said in weeks. he looks away and down again. he watches the licky sucky pop of murphy's mouth form a vacuum seal then lose it, slipping around with spit, jaws spreading, then his tongue flicking kavinsky's piss hole, and the pinch of just in his gut is sharper than anything he remembers from before. no mechanical crescendo, just the jolt of anticipation. he opens his mouth: a split-second's hoarse cry. no words, not until the mumble,] Can you-- uhh. —wetter.
mention of gross sex therapy practices!!
this, this moment with murphy, murphy's boyish shriek of outrage and murphy's eager mouth on his cock— this turns in an entirely different universe.]
Fuck, [he says, which is nothing except ruder than anything he's said in weeks. he looks away and down again. he watches the licky sucky pop of murphy's mouth form a vacuum seal then lose it, slipping around with spit, jaws spreading, then his tongue flicking kavinsky's piss hole, and the pinch of just in his gut is sharper than anything he remembers from before. no mechanical crescendo, just the jolt of anticipation. he opens his mouth: a split-second's hoarse cry. no words, not until the mumble,] Can you-- uhh. —wetter.