How he was always trapped beneath someone, weighed down by heat and magic while something slick and warm and hot caressed his cock, commanding it until it was hard, so painfully hard, and his lungs were tight. He was always consumed by a feverish urging. He would rock thoughtlessly, pushing against that wetness, seeking friction but the sensations were always so invasively lazy, seductive, sensual. It wasn't enough, just enough to drive him to madness. Just enough to make him hungry and achy and so ready to burst.