Is it a saving grace or does it only make it hurt worse, to not be sure how much of this Gustavain is even going to remember as more than a fever dream?

His noises and touch have settled into something lazy and warm by the time Phillip starts moving again and his body reacts to it immediately, but sensual and slow, stretching underneath him, hands tracing firm but aimless along his skin. He's had enough time to recover enough that he's not oversensitive anymore, just fucked completely boneless even on top of the device and what it's doing. His entire existence is pleasure, now, languid but all-consuming, and his moans are lower for the moment, delirious and the best kind of muddled. He doesn't even try to focus his eyes, but he keeps them on Phillip all the same, as much as they keep all but rolling back in his head in pleasure with every thrust.