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Summary
“And…” Aeryn’s fingers dance from his curls to the length protruding from them again, hot and swollen. “This?”
“What?” John chortles, “gonna tell me sebacean men don't have those either?”
Aeryn gives him a look up from under her lashes, one of her favourite you're an idiot looks that he'd come to realise definitely held more than a hint of fondness in them, and replies simply, “its different.”
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John learns that humans and sebaceans aren't exactly the same when it comes to recreation.
