Translations:Codex: Eight Clicks/102/en

Foggy breaths puffed out of his respirators. His hand moved along his shaft slowly, holding tightly, legs spread, hips gently twisting. His other hand moved across his bosom with an eagerness he had always reserved for others, never for himself. With his smooth, glossy hands, it was as if someone else was squeezing and twisting him beneath their latex paws.