"Huh? Uhm, yeah. Sorry." As if it would help anything, he reaches behind himself to try and block the view. Naturally, it doesn't work when the stuff keeps traveling lower. If he weren't so open, it wouldn't be like this ... but then having his body hold on to a dog's come sounds far more awful than having it all over his legs.
Walking off towards the bathroom, he makes sure he isn't dribbling on the floor. This isn't the right time to work slowly and so he takes a washcloth to the sink, rubbing the come off his thighs, back and cock, and finally his ass. There he flinches; the skin's irritated. It burns, badly, but hurrying only hurts worse. He doesn't have another option, though. Clenching his teeth, he gets the job done.
The truly bad part starts when he attempts to wash the come off the cloth. Dry-heaving, he shuts his eyes and squeezes the cloth until his knuckles turn white. He got fucked by a dog and the result is in his hands. On his hips marks sting, left by Irvin's claws. Breathe, he thinks -- and he breathes, once, twice.
It's not that he let it happen, it's knowing that he'll let it happen again that turns his stomach.
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Walking off towards the bathroom, he makes sure he isn't dribbling on the floor. This isn't the right time to work slowly and so he takes a washcloth to the sink, rubbing the come off his thighs, back and cock, and finally his ass. There he flinches; the skin's irritated. It burns, badly, but hurrying only hurts worse. He doesn't have another option, though. Clenching his teeth, he gets the job done.
The truly bad part starts when he attempts to wash the come off the cloth. Dry-heaving, he shuts his eyes and squeezes the cloth until his knuckles turn white. He got fucked by a dog and the result is in his hands. On his hips marks sting, left by Irvin's claws. Breathe, he thinks -- and he breathes, once, twice.
It's not that he let it happen, it's knowing that he'll let it happen again that turns his stomach.