Mink has to fight to keep his own eyes open. Aoba is so damn clumsy, his teeth brushing over Mink's erection, his suction light, and his throat contracting and shivering as Mink nears it and pushes in. There's something to his inexperience though; it's not like Mink chose him for his sexual prowess. He chose him because Aoba was convenient and easily molded, and because he'd fought back and there's nothing quite like the struggle during sex.

Both hands eventually cradle Aoba's skull. "I'm going to go deeper. Don't puke."

As if Aoba really has a choice, Mink pushes forward, forcing his cock to drive in against the flutter of Aoba's throat and far, far beyond, until he feels himself sink right into that swollen tightness.