The weasel chitters and humps up at the tail maw, pressing his nose into your shoulder as he workings along your length with his paws, rolling you orbs around in his palm as he focused moving his paw along your tip, his tail going bottle brush as bucked then with a loud gasp he shot his load into the maw, his sac tightening as every ounce of hissed was shot into the tail, his body panting and shaking, he looked at your eyes.