"It's… a bit tight…" Arkai grunted, adjusting his hips.
"I know," Oathran hissed back, his voice strained. "I can feel the shape of my own cocks through your cock. You don't have to tell me."
Eastiel watched from his vantage point, stroking himself with a slow rhythm. Yes, the sight of the two hot powerful men fumbling, rearranging limbs and angles was its own kind of aphrodisiac. It made him painfully hard, his cock weeping a clear string of precum. Yes, he also had lamented his life.
And yet, in this moment, he wouldn't have traded this view for anything else.
"Turn her sideways," Eastiel said, his voice surprisingly steady despite his own arousal. "Make her legs go into a full split. She's more flexible than she looks. She performs the Iudex Memoria ceremonial dance every spring. Her hips can take it."
Arkai and Oathran paused, considering. "Hmmm…"
"Lay down, Arkai," Oathran ordered.
