Blackfoot Forest i'll be just fine pretending i'm not

Satisfaction leaves the beige prince in a daze. Moments linger until he shifts, though he, too, does not stray far. The combing touch of teeth in silken fur and the afterglow enough to lull Jean-Pierre into a peaceful bliss. Much different from sleep deprived Jean-Pierre.

Jean-Pierre. His French accent ever noticeable on the pronunciation. The beige prince tucks close, resting his chin over his lover's scruff. And you, mon cher?