Faimri and Ibi, Dubnune and all the rest, they slid forward and slowly wrapped around Jera's arms, curling around his wrists and holding him fast; while their movements were lulling and calm, there was no mistaking the power in their coils, and the elf could feel how immovable the snakes' grips were.  He would be caught fast until they decided to let him go, at their mercy and their master's, and he did not mind one bit.<br/><br/>And then Ursalo said those sweet words, held him tighter and touched him so perfectly...  Jera's lips parted to let out a low moan as the demon played with him, massaging the drops over the tip and making it weep more, until he was slick and Ursalo's fingers moved with slippery ease.  It was so joyful, to know Ursalo was pleased with having him as he was, that just himself was enough, and Jera smiled hazily at the poetry in the demon's heavenly voice.<br/><br/>"I can do that," he murmured softly, little more than a thought spoken aloud; the muscles in his thighs jumped as Ursalo's cocks came forward, released into the air, and Jera's smile grew as he peered down at the lovely sight.  So vividly colored in purple and red, the shining flesh dripping and achingly hot, just looking at them made the elf's desire flare twice as bright.  He couldn't wait to feel them prod at his entrance, couldn't wait to feel them inside, pounding deeply and searching him out once more...<br/><br/>The snakes moved, and Jera meekly let them take over, leading his arm downward until his hand was between his legs, positioned just under Ursalo's twin shafts.  He listened to the demon's order, the tone sending a wonderful little spark through him, and the redhead grinned.  "Of course," he replied, playful as ever, and cupped under the other to catch the steady stream of liquid-- it had worked the night before, it would work again.<br/><br/>Once his hand was full, once his fingers were covered, Jera positioned himself as best he could, with the snakes still holding him tight.  He dripped the slickness over himself until his hole glistened, silver and just the lightest touch of pinkness further in, and then began: one finger, wet enough to slide with ease, pressed past to rest fully seated before he started to move in and out.  It was mild, simplistic and unhurried, the first act of a show meant just for Ursalo to enjoy, and Jera let out a tiny hum of pleasure as he watched the other's face.<br/><br/>"You're a dancer, I know, but you talk like a poet..." Jera commented, finger disappearing and reappearing with quiet, wet noises, before finally working in a second to stretch himself wider.  "Are all demons so talented...?"