[ The brief tension as John works on his other leg, the instinct to fight, sends that silk rope chafing around Poe's dick. He winces, squirms again, hisses. As with the rest of this it's hard for him to tell if he's turned on or annoyed, but as John works the rope around his thigh, his ankle, brushes his skin with those gloves, it gets easier to tell which one it is.
Poe eases back onto the bed, letting John work, staring at the ceiling and focusing on the feeling of the ropes, his body being moved.
This isn't so bad.
At least his hands are free. ]
I can't-- [ --do much for you this way.
Poe tries to roll onto his side, maybe get up on his knees, but the rope pulls sharply against his dick and he falls back into place.
I'll take care of everything, John had said.
Poe gets the feeling this isn't everything. Not by a long shot.
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Date: 2018-03-18 02:34 am (UTC)Poe eases back onto the bed, letting John work, staring at the ceiling and focusing on the feeling of the ropes, his body being moved.
This isn't so bad.
At least his hands are free. ]
I can't-- [ --do much for you this way.
Poe tries to roll onto his side, maybe get up on his knees, but the rope pulls sharply against his dick and he falls back into place.
I'll take care of everything, John had said.
Poe gets the feeling this isn't everything. Not by a long shot.
At least his hands are free. ]