Wine and Gun

Herstal sneered.

Then the prisoner turned him over in a rough motion and pressed his entire body against the glass window. Albarino hissed because of the numbness in his legs, but his arms wrapped around his shoulders gracefully, putting his weight on him.

"'Death to death'?" Herstal repeated bitterly.

"Your prey will, and I will not," said Albarino, as he leaned in and kissed his lips. "I offer you a burnt offering with all joy."

The glibness was clearly Albarino's forte, and Herstal had no doubt that every one of his predecessors had heard the sweet talk from him. So he can still fuck him hard at this stall, and then chew his moans between his teeth.

Albarino's hands tightened around Herstal's shoulders.

"Because I seduced you? To promise you what you want in return for your allegiance?" Herstal asked in his ear, his voice a little hoarse from gasping, "'Love me Well, as long as you love me, you can ask me for anything, even half of my kingdom'?"

Albarino snorted, his body shuddered slightly because of the movement of the other party's entry, and one of his legs was picked up by Herstal and rubbed against the rough fabric of Herstal's waist: the man undid the cuffs of his trousers, It's really convenient. Albarino struggled to lift his body and kissed the other's cheek, Herstal's cheekbones raised even more with thinness.

Then Albarino said slowly: "...Did you mean Diocletian and St. Sebastian? Or Herod and Salome? As far as I know, the end of these two stories But it's not good-"

His last final note was stretched into a soft moan that still sounded sweet and languid. And Herstal's response to him was also very crisp: he covered Albarino's mouth with one hand.

In the end he was inside him - this bastard is not wearing a condom, fuck - and when Albarino's legs were shaking and he turned to retrieve his trousers, which were wrinkled and thrown on the ground, he saw the Westland pianist. He fastened the buttons of his trousers neatly, looking more like a prison scum than a prison scum.

"Your performance always makes people feel like I've worked so hard to come here just to let you fuck me." Albarino complained in a hoarse voice, his body still twitching slightly as he dressed himself. trembling.

Herstal raised an eyebrow and chose not to entangle him on this issue - he even had a suspicion that Albarino said this just to wait for his rebuttal, as if some children were always annoying Their own parents were scolded until they were scolded, and they were satisfied when they were scolded.

Herstal chose to put his hands behind his back and motioned to Albarino to put the handcuffs back: the lock of the handcuffs had been pried by Albarino before, and now the handcuffs were lying alone on the table in the infirmary. Albariño snorted and took the handcuffs from the table laboriously. At this moment, the corners of his eyes and cheekbones were still red, and there were several messy folds on his clothes, which looked messy and fresh.

——With just a click, the icy handcuffs were tightened on Herstal's back again, which sounded like a cessation, announcing the complete end of today's more relaxing moment.

Albarino was still standing behind him and touched the palm of his hand after the handcuffs were in place. He often did this kind of meaningless little gesture, and Herstal didn't know what he was thinking when he did these movements. what to think.

"Anyway, I hope you can do it as soon as possible. If the cactus continues to die like this, I will be exposed one day. I have no doubt that Bart is still staring at me now." Albarino's voice was still very pleasant, he washed gān After cleaning his hands, he took out a jar from his ugly college student backpack, shook it in Herstal's direction, and made a rattling sound: "I baked gingerbread yesterday, do you want to eat it?"

Herstal really wanted to question where a perverted killer who faked his death got the time to bake gingerbread, but for some reason, he felt like he would lose if he asked that question now. Or when Albarino took out the jar, he had already lost—for example, at this moment, Albarino completely ignored his refusal, took a cake from the jar and brought it to Herstal lips.

The gingerbread baked by Albarino is not in the shape of a traditional gingerbread man, but a letter cake gān made from a mold, which looks more decent than the tragically dead gingerbread men provided by WLPD last Christmas.

The first piece of cake Albarino fed him was a capital "S", Herstal stabbed him with a cold gaze, but still opened his mouth to eat it.

As soon as he swallowed the cake in his mouth, Albarino fed him another cake with the letter "A". Albarino wiped a piece of cake off his lips with his fingers, and asked, "Is life in prison okay? I see a few bruises on your body."

"There was a little bump," Herstal replied nonchalantly, even though the "small bump" in his mouth meant he was stuck in the toilet, and then there was a very unpleasant rub, and he was stabbed in the ribs. He punched him, and that night was so bruised that he couldn't sleep.

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