[Why she's sorta kinda almost pulling on his hair, he has no idea, but it's not that bad, so he doesn't mind it. With a rhythm for his thrusts found, he sticks to it, his breathing very rough, but not much in terms of other sounds escaping him. He's used to everything he does being seen and heard and having consequences, even if he doesn't always care about those consequences; it's pretty easy to stay relatively quiet. More than that: he just doesn't see the need to be loud.
Besides, if he's loud, he can't hear her noises as much, and that would be a crime.
Speeding up his thrusts a little, the sensations start to overwhelm him, pulling at his spine as if his entire existence is pooling in his crotch. It's a great feeling, but it also feels like he's about to lose control and fall apart, and he kisses her with renewed determination, not nearly as coordinated as before, in an attempt to keep his grip on this moment they're sharing.]
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Besides, if he's loud, he can't hear her noises as much, and that would be a crime.
Speeding up his thrusts a little, the sensations start to overwhelm him, pulling at his spine as if his entire existence is pooling in his crotch. It's a great feeling, but it also feels like he's about to lose control and fall apart, and he kisses her with renewed determination, not nearly as coordinated as before, in an attempt to keep his grip on this moment they're sharing.]