[Instead of agreeing, he lets out a loud, frustrated exhale that's more a groan and pulls away, locking his fingers on top of his head. Several steps back. His skin is crawling with a feeling a little to the left of itchy. His frustration has won him the beginnings of a headache. But he's got space now, so it's easier to unwind from all that.]
I don't want to slow down. [It's already too much touching, it doesn't need to last any longer than it needs to.] We'll do the next part, just...give me a minute.
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I don't want to slow down. [It's already too much touching, it doesn't need to last any longer than it needs to.] We'll do the next part, just...give me a minute.