So receptive. [ Nishitani kisses up Izo's arm then, giving the bruise he'd suckled against black ink a parting kiss, working his way up to shoulder, to neck, to the tears running down Izo's cheeks. Only then does Nishitani look over Izo's face, cupping Izo's jaw and brushing his thumb along Izo's lips. ] Think you could come like this, baby boy? Or do you want my hand, too?
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