And Zenyatta knows it, can sense with every nervous twitch of the man's body, that he is exploring (for want of a better word) virgin territory, and the thought is a spur in his side- feeling each boundary recede beneath his touches, one after the other. Equally intoxicating is Enji's cock, rapidly stiffening in the strong, silky clutch of his tentacle. With an almost lazy pump from base to crown he pulls it free in all its fat, reddened glory, eyes visibly brightening at the sight of it peeking over his waistband.

"I am somewhat aware, yes," Zenyatta sing-songs, and it is almost adorable that Enji thought at any moment that he must be educated in the art of pleasuring a human body. Even moreso that he thinks such a pitiful defense is fooling anyone but himself. "But if that is the only reason... I suppose I should be sure to make it worth your while, should I not?"

There it is again, that almost playful tug, but this time the tip of his tentacle curls itself against the slit in Enji's dick, lick over it again and again. Simultaneously, another tendril is taking full advantage of the array of options presented by the man's new state of undress; distracted from squeezing and tugging on those plump nipples, it winds around Enji's back and then lower, mapping every muscle and dimple until it reaches the firm peach-softness of his ass.

Zenyatta shivers. "Do not tell me you are untouched, Enji? A strong, beautiful man like yourself?"