"I'll tell you when it's eased enough for me to tell," he says, a bit snappy as he dares to look himself. It doesn't look terribly off save for the slight bend, but that alone is enough to fear the worst. "Fu––" No. Aggravated: "Founder..."
Clive wants to sink right through this mattress, through the floors, and right down to hell, where he need not exist anymore.
"It had better be," he grumbles. He thinks about sitting up properly but he chooses to just lay there, exhausted. He squeezes her in turn. "Are you alright?"
She doesn't want to think of worse than a bruise. Which she most definitely will have, and she resists the urge to touch the tender skin between her legs.
"Likely also bruised," she says, grimacing. "I don't know how that happened."
The occasional slip happens here and there, but nothing so catastrophic.
“That’s why we must be careful,” he grouses, flopping back onto his back and looking up at the ceiling. He runs his hand along her, the only comfort he can muster. “It was too reckless…”
Jill, likewise, can only rub his belly. Her eyes are trained on his dick, watching as if she's waiting for it to change color or swell in a way that is not appealing.
"For all the times we've had one another... and frantically, at that, I'm surprised this hasn't happened sooner."
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"Let me see it." Whatever is left...
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"Where does it hurt?" She asks. As if she has a dick splint on hand.
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"Ah. Hmm."
Poor penis. This is untrod territory.
"It's--just a bruise, hopefully."
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"It had better be," he grumbles. He thinks about sitting up properly but he chooses to just lay there, exhausted. He squeezes her in turn. "Are you alright?"
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"Likely also bruised," she says, grimacing. "I don't know how that happened."
The occasional slip happens here and there, but nothing so catastrophic.
She wonders if she's getting loose.
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"For all the times we've had one another... and frantically, at that, I'm surprised this hasn't happened sooner."
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His cock is purpling.