Installing Pop-Up Blocker

Chapter 1

Stress ^^^ 94%
Critical Levels Reached: Contact Cyberlife

Markus leaned in, pressing kisses along the scattered moles. His hands cupped Connor's jaw, cradling, brushing tears away.

"Shh... It's okay." He whispered into Connor's ear, "You're not broken. Everything's okay." Connor felt his voice box glitch and pop with static in his reply, choking on another sob. His hands felt numb again. Tears rolled down his cheeks between static whines, he was being so loud. Too loud. Too much. Bring up his hands, Connor sunk his teeth into the meat of his palms. Pressing down, forcing feeling back into the synthetic flesh, muffling his noises.

"Hey, hey it's okay," Markus whispered, clasping Connor's hands pulling them away from his face. "None of that. Don't hide. Just feel" he said, stroking softly at the indents, barely crazing the tiny valleys Connor's canines had made. It hurt. His hands. His neck. His lungs. Everything hurt so much.

"You need to breathe." He ordered and Connor gasped, he felt his stomach cramp at the force with which air left his artificial lungs. His lungs rattled as he inhaled the cool air of the attic. "That's it, love," Markus egged on. his lips brushing across Connor's heated cheekbones, leaving open-mouthed kisses and breathes across the spotted skin. With each shaky inhale Connor tightened his grip on Markus' hands, fingers threaded together. "Keep breathing. Nice and deep".

Stress v 90%
Critical Levels Reached: Contact Cyberlife
Processor Temperature vvv 55°C

"That's good. You are doing so good." Markus kept repeating, pressing soft lips across Connor's LED, red and hot and whirling chaotically. He laid his body out, pressing the lines of his chest along Connor's, encasing him in warm. Markus' started to match his breathing, setting pass with deep even breathes in and loud exhales from his nose, tickling the hairs at Connor's temples. 7 minutes and 45 seconds is what it took Connor to slow his crying, tears still trapped in the corner but not rolling down his cheeks.

"Will you try something for me, love?" Markus asked brushing Connor's sweaty bangs out of the way. Connor nodded, unable to open his mouth or eyes. "No more using words. Don't describe anything. Just feel." It was whispered across his lips, tickling, before he was bared down upon. It felt like Markus was trying to consume him, his teeth biting and pulling softly at Connor's dried lip. In contrast, his stubble scratched Connor's jaw, turning the skin pink. The scrapping of leather again metal, along with the tugging at his waist got his to shift, helping to remove his belt. The two sets of hands made quick work of the belt, throwing it aside with a clatter. "Feel with me."

Markus slides down, peppering kiss along Connor's neck, nipping at his Adam apple. He blew are into the dip of this collar, laying a slow lick up the column. Connor shivered as cold air rolled over his wet skin. A sudden sharp pain caused from his neck as Markus bit down, surely hard enough to bruise. He apologized by sucking on the mark, leaving force kiss and wide swaths with his tongue. Content with the discoloration forming he moved to a new spot and repeated the process. Connor tipped his head back, moaning, creating a vibration that Markus loved, kissing harder.

Connor's world started to shrink, his sensor tuning to Markus alone. Hearing nothing but the wet sound of Markus' tongue against his neck. Feeling nothing but the suction of lips against his neck. Hearing Markus' approving groans in response. Feeling the therium in his body fill his penis, tightly confined in his jeans. He pulled his knees wider, allowing room for Markus to slot in closer. He returned the favor by bringing one wide and toned thigh up against Connor's bulge. Connor rolled his hips up off the mattress, closing his legs slightly, to hump that magnificent thigh.

Markus chuckled in between bites, rolling his hips in response. We loosened his grip with one hand, pulling away, and Connor already missed the feel of it. It brushed down his arm, tickling the sensitive skin of his armpit before hitting the goal. With a sudden and vicious grip, Markus rolled a pink nipple between his fingers. He rolled the hardening nub between his thumb and fingers, twisting it left and right. Each twist built up a pressure that he would then dissipate by letting go and rubbing with a single finger in circles. Playing with it like it was a button as if it was a switch to Connor's cock. It grew harder and he humped harder and moaned louder.