NezNez
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It’s such a nonsensical thing to do, to touch and feel the other squirming beneath him. To devour delighted, mischievous gasps and breathless laughs that devolve into something shameless and wanting. They are Cookies crafted by godly creators, not common beasts that rut and mate in the fields to bear offspring. There is no point in this. Their bodies are not made for this.
Yet each time Shadow Milk’s hands pass over his hips, each time they dip lower and tease new form into being - Pure Vanilla cannot help but feel he was made for this and this alone.