[It's pleasurable for him, too, to watch her melt under his touch. Of course he continues, just subtle-pressure ministrations up and down the back of her neck.]
[ she'll show him. permission given, she curves her arms around his back and lifts, clumsily, bracing him close and with one hand dipping beneath his thigh. she turns, then, both she and him, and moves to lay him back on the chaise cushions. her above. ]
[She'll find it is exceptionally easy to lay him down, because he is already given to being a useless blob right now, anyway; only curiosity and growing lust motivates Sholmes at this point, and neither are getting in the way of him being rearranged by her so intimately.
So, laying flat against his back, with her above. Like this, his blood really does feel like it's rushed straight to his head. He blinks up at her, swallowing.]
[How is it that this somehow feels just as intimate as kissing her on the lips? His flush bolsters—perhaps never to be banished at this point—but for once, there’s no slight moment of pause, no quick fire assessment.
He kisses her knuckles, knowing what she’s asking, feather-light.]
[ Mammon, that's pretty. she looks on as though transfixed, while her free hand presses down on his chest and holds her above. not for long. all her body wants is to recline. ]
[ and he will see it again. down her shoulders, revealing bare arms, and she unsteadily shakes it all off, that it crumples on the floor at the foot of the chaise. like this, now—half-dressed and even then only in thin, gauzy material.
she curls down against him and straddles his one thigh. pulls herself closer to kiss him once more. ]
[How assuredly he declared his previous statement–I’ve been witness to what’s beneath already—without taking into consideration the wildly differing context. This is not him finding a horned stranger in a nightgown beneath his windowsill, accosted by panic. No, this is... definitely not that.
He is painfully aware of just how gauzy that material is as she straddles him, as though his coat had completely shrouded her warmth which has now been given free rein to exude outwards. Precisely where she touches him. His gaze slips down her into form, reaffirming what he already knew to be true. Ms Sapione has been blessed by many curves.
Which means he's even more aware of the closeness of her chest as she leans down to kiss him. He meets her eagerly, with a bit of a humming noise in his throat, feeling impossible hot in the face and immediately lacing his fingers behind her neck again, as though to default to what he knows she likes.]
[ a creeping smile, pressed affectionately to his mouth, as Sprezzatura sinks closer and closer and closer to him, simply pooling wherever his body dips. she's so warm. kissing him like this could go on... forever... ]
It's good, isn't it?
[ she whispers this between kissing, bringing her palm up to hold his cheek. ]
[Yes, yes. Very aware of how thin that material is now that she’s practically puddled atop him, that with a mind like his, easily sussing out the shape of her body, it’s like she’s wearing nothing at all. (ned flanders skiing gif)]
Divine.
[Thoughtlessly, not even trying to be wittily ironic. His hands immediately unlace and drift down her spine to feel the length of her. Maybe he can make it back down to her tail…]
[HE CAN STILL FEEL FOR WHERE IT BEGINS which is what he does, one hand stopping right at the rise of its base beneath the nightgown. Feeling curiously. Unabashedly, at this point, his shyness… present, but overtaken by so much else by now.]
He writhes not unpleasantly beneath her, very much aware of the direction her hand is heading: that is, towards his inner thigh, which is lurid enough merely because it edges so very close to his erection.]
How does it feel... here?
[Rubs over where the base of her tail would be, fingers tracing up and down. He wonders if there are more sensitive areas than others along the length of the appendage itself.]
[ his squirming!! it's such a delight. and how he has moved so low that his hands nearly rest on her backside, if only in pursuit of her tail. she smiles wider and plays with the muscle of his thigh. nails tingling on his skin through his trousers. ]
[ all of it: his touches through her nightgown, his squirming underneath her, the quality of his voice changing the further this goes on... she glances down through her lashes at the rise of his thigh, and her fingers dipping towards the inside. there, the swell of desire between his legs. she wants to hold it. ]
[ the tension of anticipation has flooded her entire body. tips her face up, seeking his mouth, already fantasizing, needlessly, the sensation to come of Sholmes tugging her hemline above her hips. how the fabric gliding over the drawers beneath will feel. and once exposed to the room, the open crotch which makes them so comfortable for a tiefling to wear will be temptation again, and...
oh, please. Sprezzatura won't say it aloud, but she'll think it. please.
she touches their mouths together nearly chastely. one barely-there kiss to draw his focus to her lips while her hand sneaks up to his waistband and thumbs open the button. ]
[Drawn in and magnetized, it feels as though he will never be able to deny her silent request for a kiss, and he has absolutely no desire to. Their lips meet, his own parting for her even if she’s trying to be chaste, and Sholmes chooses to take this as silent permission. His fingertips spread to find the hem of her garment and slip beneath, skin on skin.
But then he feels her fussing at his trouser button, and those same fingertips curl in anticipation, stilling for a moment.]
[ heart racing, breath catching, she lifts her tail so that the nightgown's hemline skims up, pooling above her waist. the room cool on the slivers of skin now bared to it, beyond Sholmes' view.
into his mouth, ] I will be gentle.
[ the button gives easily. she's practiced this many times before. and she takes her time gently untucking his shirttails, drawing his trousers open. ]
[The warmth of her skin floods his fingertips, and she's even softer beneath the material of her nightgown than he ever would've imagined. But there is a new sensation to focus upon, one that drags his attention from his hands—which are simply feeling out the shape of her, idly; which also means he might just be cupping her backside, or close to it—and continues to halt his squirming.
He is, in fact, still and useless as she opens up the vee of his trousers, to reveal the unsurprising: the bulge of his erection now given more clearance, heat exuding, just beneath his underwear.]
You don't have to be.
[He doesn't know what he's saying. She needn't temper her usual proclivities for his sake, is what he wants to make clear, but. Brain like sludge.]
[ he is so sweet and young, she can't help the desire to be a little nicer and sweeter in turn. she purses her lips in a kiss on the tender underside of his jaw. the swell of him is... tempting. feels good to feel wanted even by a man who does not frequently want.
she melts further beneath the comfortable cupping of his hands on her backside, only halfway covered by her drawers. if she just...
glides her palm up, then down... cupping him, too. ]
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dreamily, ] Oh, I am having plans for you.
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Do you? Then show me.
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[ she'll show him. permission given, she curves her arms around his back and lifts, clumsily, bracing him close and with one hand dipping beneath his thigh. she turns, then, both she and him, and moves to lay him back on the chaise cushions. her above. ]
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So, laying flat against his back, with her above. Like this, his blood really does feel like it's rushed straight to his head. He blinks up at her, swallowing.]
And now...?
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Now...
[ she holds her hand up to his mouth, an offer for him to kiss the graceful, ink-spotted knuckles ]
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He kisses her knuckles, knowing what she’s asking, feather-light.]
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[ Mammon, that's pretty. she looks on as though transfixed, while her free hand presses down on his chest and holds her above. not for long. all her body wants is to recline. ]
You may remove my coat.
[ his coat ]
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Remove her… coat? His coat.]
I’ve been witness to what’s beneath already.
[This, however, does not halt him from reaching up to shuffle her (his) coat down her shoulders-]
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[ and he will see it again. down her shoulders, revealing bare arms, and she unsteadily shakes it all off, that it crumples on the floor at the foot of the chaise. like this, now—half-dressed and even then only in thin, gauzy material.
she curls down against him and straddles his one thigh. pulls herself closer to kiss him once more. ]
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He is painfully aware of just how gauzy that material is as she straddles him, as though his coat had completely shrouded her warmth which has now been given free rein to exude outwards. Precisely where she touches him. His gaze slips down her into form, reaffirming what he already knew to be true. Ms Sapione has been blessed by many curves.
Which means he's even more aware of the closeness of her chest as she leans down to kiss him. He meets her eagerly, with a bit of a humming noise in his throat, feeling impossible hot in the face and immediately lacing his fingers behind her neck again, as though to default to what he knows she likes.]
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It's good, isn't it?
[ she whispers this between kissing, bringing her palm up to hold his cheek. ]
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Divine.
[Thoughtlessly, not even trying to be wittily ironic. His hands immediately unlace and drift down her spine to feel the length of her. Maybe he can make it back down to her tail…]
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Plans?
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Exploring.
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Good boy.
[ said like, good boy. more sigh than voice. she slips her own hand down to the outside of Sholmes' thigh, then creeps it inward. ]
I WROTE THIS IN THE MORNING AND FORGOT TO HIT SEND
He writhes not unpleasantly beneath her, very much aware of the direction her hand is heading: that is, towards his inner thigh, which is lurid enough merely because it edges so very close to his erection.]
How does it feel... here?
[Rubs over where the base of her tail would be, fingers tracing up and down. He wonders if there are more sensitive areas than others along the length of the appendage itself.]
HOW COULD YOU?
Like this.
:sadcat:
You like it, then.
[Same as he likes hers, despite his squirming.]
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[ all of it: his touches through her nightgown, his squirming underneath her, the quality of his voice changing the further this goes on... she glances down through her lashes at the rise of his thigh, and her fingers dipping towards the inside. there, the swell of desire between his legs. she wants to hold it. ]
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…Touch for touch? My hand beneath your gown, and yours…
[Well. Wherever she wishes to put it, where she’s already so close.]
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[ the tension of anticipation has flooded her entire body. tips her face up, seeking his mouth, already fantasizing, needlessly, the sensation to come of Sholmes tugging her hemline above her hips. how the fabric gliding over the drawers beneath will feel. and once exposed to the room, the open crotch which makes them so comfortable for a tiefling to wear will be temptation again, and...
oh, please. Sprezzatura won't say it aloud, but she'll think it. please.
she touches their mouths together nearly chastely. one barely-there kiss to draw his focus to her lips while her hand sneaks up to his waistband and thumbs open the button. ]
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But then he feels her fussing at his trouser button, and those same fingertips curl in anticipation, stilling for a moment.]
Mmn.
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into his mouth, ] I will be gentle.
[ the button gives easily. she's practiced this many times before. and she takes her time gently untucking his shirttails, drawing his trousers open. ]
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He is, in fact, still and useless as she opens up the vee of his trousers, to reveal the unsurprising: the bulge of his erection now given more clearance, heat exuding, just beneath his underwear.]
You don't have to be.
[He doesn't know what he's saying. She needn't temper her usual proclivities for his sake, is what he wants to make clear, but. Brain like sludge.]
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I want to be.
[ he is so sweet and young, she can't help the desire to be a little nicer and sweeter in turn. she purses her lips in a kiss on the tender underside of his jaw. the swell of him is... tempting. feels good to feel wanted even by a man who does not frequently want.
she melts further beneath the comfortable cupping of his hands on her backside, only halfway covered by her drawers. if she just...
glides her palm up, then down... cupping him, too. ]
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for once being stuck with younger icons works out for me
hehe
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I'M BACK
:pinkmoon:
:pinksun:
Re: :pinksun:
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real tag
crying 1/2
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