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Summary
Louis knows the pressure wouldn’t be enough to make himself come. But Lestat was different. Lestat, as Louis came to know him over the years of their companionship (or, acquaintanceship, friendship, ex-husbandship), was that if you can get Lestat riled up enough, he can come from anything—a hand coming down on his ass, a fingernail on the slit of his cock, a feather across his tits.
A gust of wind.

