"Come on now," he said, gesturing with one hand. "I want to see you all," he murmured, stepping closer. "Besides, I plan on getting you off before I fuck you. Don't want this ending too soon," he said, imagining the boy sweaty and wrecked and whimpering, maybe even begging. Begging would be nice.
"Oh I plan to make artwork out of you, Stiles. You have no idea."
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"Oh I plan to make artwork out of you, Stiles. You have no idea."