imagine grinding yourself against König's thighs, feeling how the thick muscles ripple beneath you with every movement of your hips. his veiny hands squeezing your waist like a vice as the giant of a man drags your body back and forth against his body, the wetness of your cunt slowly soaking his pants with it's slick, a testament to your need.
when you had first proposed the idea of thigh riding to König, a strange mix of surprise and excitement had washed over him. he knew that you wanted to take things slower, not wanting to rush into intimacy between you two. but this? König's precious liebling wanting to use his body as a mere tool for pleasure? bloody hell, not only he craved the way you felt on top of him, he craved the way you ignored his aching cock while being so focused on achieving your own orgasms. that poor member of his was leaking pre-cum so much that it had aready stained the front of König's cargos, the thick material now showing damp patches from his slick - yet no matter how much he wanted to relieve the growing pressure around his hung balls, König kept his focus strictly on you and you alone, wanting his dear maus to get the pleasure she deserved.
