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Drift knew how to play his body like an instrument. In the quiet of his office with his colleagues just on the other side of his closed door Ratchet fought to hold in his pleasure against the knowing hands of his lover. “Drift,” the name hitched on his shuddered breath as another sensitive spot was stroked by delicately scratching claws and followed shortly after by heated tongue. “D-don’t make me moan. I don’t want anyone to catch us.”
“Then you’d better be quiet medic because I have every intention making you scream my name before this night is through. Secrecy and audience be damned.”

eerian_sadow Sun 05 Feb 2017 03:31PM UTC
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GunTotingScienceNerd Sun 05 Feb 2017 11:54PM UTC
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