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Summary
This was getting nowhere, Anaxa thought in a clinical, detached manner, as he felt Phainon's thrusts begin to slow down again, followed by a desperate, frustrated growl, barely sounding like something a human throat could produce.
It wasn't really Phainon, though, at least not the Phainon Anaxa knew and taught, but he had the same appearance, even if it was cracking away at the corners of his mouth and eyes, making his eager-to-please-puppy-face that he usually had during sex look grotesque and uncanny, which was even more noticeable now with how much his crumbling body struggled. A manic, rabid smile of pure exasperation split his lips.
"Let's try this some other way," Anaxa suggested bluntly, his voice more hoarse and fucked out than he would like it to be. It really felt like they had been going at it forever.
"No!" Phainon snapped, restlessly pulling Anaxa into his arms again, which almost made his softened cock slip out of Anaxa's exhausted body.