"...Please...p-please....!" An ironic answer to a question that he didn't realize he was asked.
There's desperation in his tone, however far away it is - his voice is tight, shaking with need...and that expression Seras is watching so closely now is strained, pinched, fangs occasionally dragging and biting into his lower lip.
Were Alfred awake, he would probably be embarrassed by his lack of composure...but as it stands, the rolling and thrusting of his hips is only getting more fervent, the red and black coils of his tail pressing and rubbing harder against his raging hard-on. It feels good, sure, but it isn't enough, it fails to scratch the unbearable itch - and even in his dream, he isn't quite sure why.
He let's out another whimper, higher and louder still, all the worrying at his lip sending a warm trickle of blood down the corner of his mouth.
Alfred is enjoying his dream - but it doesn't seem quite like said dream will cut it, in the end. He needs something solid.
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"...Please...p-please....!" An ironic answer to a question that he didn't realize he was asked.
There's desperation in his tone, however far away it is - his voice is tight, shaking with need...and that expression Seras is watching so closely now is strained, pinched, fangs occasionally dragging and biting into his lower lip.
Were Alfred awake, he would probably be embarrassed by his lack of composure...but as it stands, the rolling and thrusting of his hips is only getting more fervent, the red and black coils of his tail pressing and rubbing harder against his raging hard-on. It feels good, sure, but it isn't enough, it fails to scratch the unbearable itch - and even in his dream, he isn't quite sure why.
He let's out another whimper, higher and louder still, all the worrying at his lip sending a warm trickle of blood down the corner of his mouth.
Alfred is enjoying his dream - but it doesn't seem quite like said dream will cut it, in the end. He needs something solid.
Or someone.