[ Sinclair whimpers around the fabric in his mouth, writhing against Oria, muffling his voice against his forearm. Every sensation is incredible and overwhelming to his senses and he barely has the sense of mind to press back every time Oria thrusts forward, vaguely wondering through the fog in his head if this felt as good for Oria too. It's a strangely vulnerable feeling he finds himself in, but he feels at ease giving it all over to Oria to do as he liked.]
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