Nik thought it best to remain silent.

“Arel, don't start biting your nails! Now take your hand off your face!”

Kors looked with regret at Arel’s beautiful aristocratic hand with long thin fingers, “decorated” with black “rings” of unclean ones.

“How you ruined his hand!”

Nik didn’t answer and quickly touched his nose with his hand. Kors caught his hand, pulling it towards him, removing his glove and kissing.

“Stop doing that. Stop it, my naughty Demon bad student!”

“Who?! This is something new, before I was dirty and shaggy for you.”

“Yes. But thanks to my efforts, you began to wash more often, and I take care of your hair. Now we need to start teaching you.”

“Oh…”

Kors sat Nik next to him on the edge of the bed, and, slightly removing his brush from him, began to examine the black fingers:

“How can you paint black the skin under the nails?”

“Well, these are not really nails…”

“Yes, tell me how you can create this horror with yourself.”

“Maybe I should not?”

“Tell me!”

“Well, nails… human nails are ripped out…”

“Well! Further…”

“Black paint is introduced into the wound, then the unclean claws take root.”

“Did you do this with all your fingers at once or one at a time?”

Nik didn’t answer, Kors kissed his hand:

“Do you like what I give you, my Demon Son, do you like it?” He whispered.

“Yeah…”

“This Cartmer, he was looking at you, he thought: “how beautiful”, did you hear it?”

“No. Vitor, don't make it up.”

“Divine beauty of the Upper”, you heard, you are just cunning now. You heard everything.”

“I have heard this many times, as well as exactly the opposite.”

“Arel, come to me, useless stupid creature, ah-ah, why are you so, Arel, so… ah-ah!”

They undressed, and Nik put Kors on his back, he agreed to accept and all opened to meet him:

“Fuck me the way I fuck you,” he whispered, “do to me as I do to you.”

Nikto pulled it out almost to the end and pushed it back sharply, leaning strongly forward. Kors couldn’t help but wheeze under him.

“So?” Nik asked.

“Yes. Yes. More… don't pity me…”

Nik made a few more of the same hard thrusts all the way and hit Kors in the ribs, he twitched under him:

“Ah, damn…”

Nikto again began to fuck him, and at some point, when Kors had already relaxed a little and did not expect this at all, he suddenly quite tangibly knocked him in the balls and standing cock.

“Oh!”

Kors tried to break free, and Nikto slapped him in the face, on the cheek, slapping him tangibly in the face.

“Not! Nik! I don’t do that! Stop doing that!” Shouted Kors.

And Nikto in his thoughts said: “dirty little rubbish, you must be properly punished!”

“What?” And Kors laughed. He lay under his Nik, shuddering with laughter, shading his eyes with his bent elbow, then slightly removed it, looking at Nik from under his arm, and Nik, unable to resist, began to laugh too.

He stopped, without removing the cock from Kors, but not continuing:

“Vitor, stop laughing, I can't stand that!”

“Do I really think so when I'm fucking you?”

“Yes.”

They laughed again.

“Well, no, I just can't come,” said Nik, “you make me laugh.”

“It's strange that you don’t laugh under me when you hear that,” Kors smiled.

“Arel, shut him up at last,” said Nik, and Arel, who had been lying next to him all this time and watching what they were doing, immediately leaned on Kors, sitting down on his face.

“Arel… no, no… um…”

They continued, no longer being distracted, and Nik and Arel, without much imagination, bluntly pounded Kors from different sides, periodically switching places. Kors gave himself up to his young lovers and allowed everything and did for them what they wanted, forgetting about dinner and about a room with marble benches and warm steam. Forgetting everything.