"Well, close them again," he snarls. Eyes rolling, he shifts on Cesare's lap, all knees and elbow, for maximum discomfort to the body underneath him. "No-one can get it up when their cock's turned into an icicle."

Alex turns his face to look up at Cesare, head cocked. Sly: "But what makes you think I will be biting in the pillow?" He smirks.

Then, an afterthought, "you do have some more of the good stuff around, right?"