OOC: Sorta powerplaying here, so PM me if you need anything changed. <3
His hand was suddenly taken in the smaller paw, and led around the boy's narrow waist. Ash had the strength to shove him off, but he didn't. He was still frightened of hurting the stranger's feelings, and quite frankly, curious to see what the hell the guy was doing. His arm was now wrapped around the stranger's warm body, and he instinctively pulled him in closer. Ash didn't know why he did it, it just seemed like the thing to do when you were holding someone. Or, whatever it was he was doing. Surely he wasn't holding the boy. That would seem odd. No, through rather unexpected circumstances, his arm happened to be around someone else's torso and he just so happened to squeeze that body tighter into his grasp. It was all normal. Or so he wanted it to be. He was desperate to please, and would put himself into awkward, perhaps even painful situations just to accomplish that.
His heart wrenched at the stranger's continued disappointment. He was inclined to shoo him away, to be disgusted at everything that was happening to him, but the guy's sincerely hurt look was keeping him from doing any of those things. How could he deny someone who needed his kind words? He was not a cruel person, he never had been. It led him to being extremely gullible, but Ashbrooke prided himself in the ability to empathize and sympathize. Still, he was too nervous to say anything to the other male's simplistic complaint. Suddenly his hand was once again in the greyish male's grasp, his paw now traveling quickly to his front. His hand ended up on the soft flesh of the boy's inner thigh. Ash sucked in a breath as he felt his warm body against the palm of his hand. His eyes were transfixed on the thigh, his fingers spreading to touch more of it at once. His hand slid down the thigh to the knee, and back up again, ruffling the fur. "Yes..very, very pretty," he murmured.
His left arm reached out toward the still-nameless guy's back, his palm towards his fur. He stroked his back, his fingers climbing up to his shoulder first before dropping down again. His fingers brushed against the edge of his panties by accident. Ash froze. Dear god, what the hell was he doing? He withdrew both his hands and placed them back on the sand to steady himself. He looked down at his chest, breathing hard. He felt horrible. What was he even doing? He felt dirty and disgusted with himself. He did not blame the guy on his lap for anything, he only blamed himself. It seemed like he was looking for more than just some kind words to make the boy feel better now. How dare he touch him if not for the stranger's benefit? Ash was finding some strange pleasure from "feeling the pretty", and it was concerning him.
