Ilima's breathless, animalistic in how he rocks his hips and moans hard. He Ming's comment doesn't even register as he presses his cock against his hand, greedily seeking more. It doesn't take much more of the fingering and the palming for his cock to throb and swell, body tensing. He cries out and bucks his hips as he comes, his seed coming out in heavy spurts.

His eyes roll into the back of his head as he climaxes, lashes fluttering. Breathing harshly, he rocks his hips until he's spent, slowing down and then going lax. He hangs his head, asshole tightening and relaxing around those fingers all the while. It takes only a few moments before it passes, leaving him to catch his breath. His head clears somewhat, and he gives a thankful glance to He Ming, smiling.