Lon had no intention of stopping; indeed, he was having trouble keeping in time with Balfor, as his concentration was strained in not letting the sensation overwhelm him. It amazed him how little time it had taken for him to become sensitive again, and each stroke was an urgent message, warm tight reminder of pleasure multiplied. His breath was short and ragged as he felt a subtle churning, a warning that he would not last long under such conditions, and he let out a low hiss, like a teapot just before it reaches full boil, trying to let the pressure building within it slowly and carefully.<br/><br/>He'd forgotten the hand on Laurin's breast as he'd delighted in the uniqueness of their motion; now, it became the focus of his attention, a distraction against the tide of inevitability, and he squeezed and stroked at it, letting a finger brush and tease the nipple on each pass, sometimes bringing to bear one on each side, gently squeezing it between them, an imitation of the events in the room. His thoughts turned to Joli, and he turned, glanced back to see how she was coming along on the bed, if she were watching, or touching herself as Balfor had requested; the gentle timbre of a rhythmic snore provided ample evidence of how she'd ended up. He smiled slightly, at the thought of her curled up on top of the covers, before his thoughts turned back to the more active events in the room, and he began thrusting more energetically, his free hand steadying himself on Laurin's hip as he felt his own fuse growing short despite attempts to the contrary.<br/><br/>((OOC: Sorry for the *very* long pause, but Ixy's leaving coupled with my own bout of illness made it difficult to post. I've been trying to get back on track for some time.))