[He's so pleasantly addled by all of it, her smell, her taste, that tail of hers that makes him moan against her cunt, that he cannot help but liken her twitching to that of playing an instrument. Little movements that make her writhe with each careful, yet indulgent, ministration of finger and tongue.
He barely registers her question. He wants her to keep tugging at him like that-]
Bottle?
[A wobbly exhale, lips curving. Hazy hazy...]
Are you not torturing something now that might fit better?
no subject
He barely registers her question. He wants her to keep tugging at him like that-]
Bottle?
[A wobbly exhale, lips curving. Hazy hazy...]
Are you not torturing something now that might fit better?