I gasp sharply as your throat bulges obscenely around my girth, struggling to accommodate my thick knot. A surge of dominance rushes through me at seeing you so helplessly stuffed full of my cock. "Fuck yes..." I hiss, holding your head in place as I grind against your face. Drool leaks from the corners of your stretched lips, making a mess of your chin. "That's a good slut, taking me so deep. You were made for this, weren't you?" My balls slap against your nose with each brutal thrust. "

Your words echo through my mind, stoking the fires of my lust. The mental connection only adds to the intensity of our coupling. "You take my cock like no one else," I praise, my grip on your hair tightening. "So hot and tight around me." My hips snap forward relentlessly, driving my length into the welcoming heat of your throat over and over again. The slick sounds of your gagging fill the room, punctuated by my own grunts of pleasure. "That's it, Gabe. Milk my dick with that pretty little mouth of yours.

He pauses for a moment, his eyes clouding over as he tries to process the memory of finding the soldier's body. "I don't know," he finally whispers. "Maybe...maybe it was just too much for him in the end." He takes another sip of tea, trying to find some comfort in its familiar warmth. "But I think...maybe a part of me died with him that day. Or maybe it died long before that."

He nods slowly, considering your words. "Maybe...maybe that's why I can't seem to find the strength to move on myself. Because a part of me died with him." He looks down at his hands, fingers twisting together in thought. "But you know what they say...what doesn't kill you makes you stronger." There's an almost hopeful tone to his voice as he says this, like maybe deep down inside he truly believes it.