It feels like time itself stops around them. Everything just stops, the world halting dead in its tracks, as Molloy's hand gently tucking in that stray lock of Kurt's hair takes precedence. They feel like they can't breathe, too focused on Molloy's proximity, the brush of his fingers, his breath on their skin.
And then he steps away, leaving them shivering in his wake.
Kurt is intimately familiar with power play, with dominance and submission and eager compliance... in theory. They've only ever streamed that sort of dynamic, alone in the room they leave behind, only acting powerless for a captive audience while they remain completely in control. Even during their private shows, the expensive one-on-one packages they offer, Freyja is the one who submits and obeys. Kurt still controls the pace, the force, the camera.
There's only one customer who's ever made Kurt feel like this before, all liquid inside, wobbly and unsteady and desperate with need. They didn't think it was possible someone could make them feel like this in real life. But here he is, in the flesh, standing right beside them in the ascending elevator with a detached look on his face, while Kurt blushes and desperately clenches their thighs together. They feel completely out of control, and yet they've never been this hard. They've never felt so needy before, desperate for this man to touch them again.
What would Freyja do in this situation? "Say, sir... when we get to the penthouse, is there anything else I can help you with?" They pin him with a heated look, teething their lip, gazing up at him with equal parts hope and trepidation. They better have been reading him right. If this gamble doesn't pay off, then... "Any other... services I can provide?"
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And then he steps away, leaving them shivering in his wake.
Kurt is intimately familiar with power play, with dominance and submission and eager compliance... in theory. They've only ever streamed that sort of dynamic, alone in the room they leave behind, only acting powerless for a captive audience while they remain completely in control. Even during their private shows, the expensive one-on-one packages they offer, Freyja is the one who submits and obeys. Kurt still controls the pace, the force, the camera.
There's only one customer who's ever made Kurt feel like this before, all liquid inside, wobbly and unsteady and desperate with need. They didn't think it was possible someone could make them feel like this in real life. But here he is, in the flesh, standing right beside them in the ascending elevator with a detached look on his face, while Kurt blushes and desperately clenches their thighs together. They feel completely out of control, and yet they've never been this hard. They've never felt so needy before, desperate for this man to touch them again.
What would Freyja do in this situation? "Say, sir... when we get to the penthouse, is there anything else I can help you with?" They pin him with a heated look, teething their lip, gazing up at him with equal parts hope and trepidation. They better have been reading him right. If this gamble doesn't pay off, then... "Any other... services I can provide?"