â« â Kiss my museâs neck!-mothmando
Rusty wasnât drunk and he wasnât high - surprisingly. Heâs not too sure how he got here, but he was in the right mindset. Him and Moth- Well, Rusty had kissed Moth before plenty of times, but kisses on the neck were different.
It was strange being attracted to this creature, but Rusty couldnât care less. Moth was just so cute and sweet, a fantastic hand-holder and cuddler.
And again, the leading-up to this was forgotten. Most of Rustyâs hookups were fuzzy and black. But then he figures, this isnât just a hook up. This is someone he is emotionally invested in.
Mothmando is a person - creature? - that Rusty figures he had feelings for, romantic feelings he hasnât felt in so long! It was almost hard to believe he didnât stick snort something earlier, because he surely feels high.
He feels a strange sense of euphoria here. Right now. Kneeling between Mothâs thighs, hands gently massaging the others side to keep him calm, sometimes dipping his hands down to Mothâs inner thighs - to give an erotic feel but not completely be completely sexual. Moths small noises, quiet moans and no protests, encouraged Rusty.
Lightly nipping at the skin, briefly wondering if he could even leave a hickey on the black skin. Not minding the occasional run-in with the feathery fur that collared Moths neck.
Rusty chuckled and pulled away, just enough for his nose the brush Moths tubular proboscis. He gives the Moth a kiss there, smiling wide as he pulled away.
âFirst time?â He smirks down at the boy. He leans up, elbow on the back of the couch and head resting against his hand. âWe could go farther, if youâre interested.â













