[For the moment, L is immobilized like a bug writhing, all pin and no ether. His throat is raw, increasingly so with each hungry spiteful push, and he can't breathe, can't even see given the throttling his skull is currently being subjected to. Perhaps this is his just desserts for choking the SQUIP with his hands, and there's no room to complain for what amounts to an eye for an eye... especially when his fingers are sheathed in the computer's ass, and every movement buries them deeper.
His throat opens out of necessity, his gag reflex only serving to lavish the SQUIP with more squeezing, more service as it pumps and pants against his face. The SQUIP is able to complete three or four thrusts with so little resistance that it seems as though perhaps its partner has given up or even passed out, but L's leg has crept into a position he can use. When it seems as though the SQUIP is distracted by the pursuit of its own climax, he drives a heel against the SQUIP's legs, attempting to topple it so that he can once more fight for dominance.]
no subject
His throat opens out of necessity, his gag reflex only serving to lavish the SQUIP with more squeezing, more service as it pumps and pants against his face. The SQUIP is able to complete three or four thrusts with so little resistance that it seems as though perhaps its partner has given up or even passed out, but L's leg has crept into a position he can use. When it seems as though the SQUIP is distracted by the pursuit of its own climax, he drives a heel against the SQUIP's legs, attempting to topple it so that he can once more fight for dominance.]