his subspace is calming. & while it’s not rooted in anything particularly good - nothing about him is, typically... yet, he’s happy here. roxanne allows him the relief of losing control in a manner that was far from shameful. & attached to the masculinity of sex, he’s free to embrace it. eyes flicker open, & ascend up the slope of her body to meet her eye. jaw slack, tired - he wears the fruits of his labour in a triumphant ring ‘round his mouth. leaning, with his own contented hum, into her touch...
her smile makes him smile, as well... open mouthed. he must be doing a good job, or else she’d provide him with no such praise. none more prominent than that of what is genuine, in the way her lips shift for him. he so rarely makes her smile - in fact, in their day-to-day he works to make her irritated.. but now, the ugliness of his fixed teeth shows through the crooked curl of his mouth. that which sends this surge of pride straight to his cool, grey eyes.
“danke, mama --” he purrs. repeating himself. “thank you, mommy..” he looks down, in respect from his place on his haunches.. yet, he’s still smiling to himself.