Caleb does have other designs--ones the echo seems to know intimately, despite a lack of verbal communication. Together they help their mostly boneless lover to lay back--not against the bed, but against the echo as he sits propped at the head of the bed, putting the heated skin of Yussa's back against the echo's much cooler chest. The construct takes the elf's weight easily, lets him rest his head against his shoulder, even tenderly brushes strands of sticky hair from his face and kisses his forehead. Caleb finds that obvious care and affection fascinating. The echo plants his feet against the bed and spreads his legs, making it easy to guide Yussa's legs open as well, hooked over them. Even as he assists, Caleb can't stop staring at them, at the way they look together. The way he and Yussa must look together, barring the lack of color in his copy.
Displayed like this, Yussa is a sight that makes Caleb almost delirious with want. The dark and the moonlight mute the vibrancy of his warm brown skin, but he can still see the evidence of a flush throughout his body. He's deceptively delicate, small and slender, his hair is mussed, his golden eyes dark, and his cunt is dripping, used and open and still burning with arousal. Caleb mutters a Zemnian curse in admiration as he arranges himself between both sets of open legs.
"Let us take care of you," he says, and kisses Yussa's cheek. There's something of muscle memory from days long past as he reaches down to cup his echo's cock--his own cock, the strangeness of that belied by his own understanding of the magic involved--and position it at Yussa's entrance. He feels the echo (the man, the arcane marvel, that is both him and not him) shudder at the touch, and then watches his length, as dark as the shadowy room around them, disappear into Yussa's cunt as he rolls his hips up in a first slow thrust.
Caleb's hands rest on Yussa's splayed thighs, and remain there as he eases back just far enough to lean down and begin kissing over his chest, sucking sharply on first one nipple and then the other. Like this, they'll really be able to make an attempt at satisfying him together.
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Displayed like this, Yussa is a sight that makes Caleb almost delirious with want. The dark and the moonlight mute the vibrancy of his warm brown skin, but he can still see the evidence of a flush throughout his body. He's deceptively delicate, small and slender, his hair is mussed, his golden eyes dark, and his cunt is dripping, used and open and still burning with arousal. Caleb mutters a Zemnian curse in admiration as he arranges himself between both sets of open legs.
"Let us take care of you," he says, and kisses Yussa's cheek. There's something of muscle memory from days long past as he reaches down to cup his echo's cock--his own cock, the strangeness of that belied by his own understanding of the magic involved--and position it at Yussa's entrance. He feels the echo (the man, the arcane marvel, that is both him and not him) shudder at the touch, and then watches his length, as dark as the shadowy room around them, disappear into Yussa's cunt as he rolls his hips up in a first slow thrust.
Caleb's hands rest on Yussa's splayed thighs, and remain there as he eases back just far enough to lean down and begin kissing over his chest, sucking sharply on first one nipple and then the other. Like this, they'll really be able to make an attempt at satisfying him together.