[Her relaxation is not lost on him, less tension pulling at the root of his hair. It feels as though he's been given more clearance to move, though this is of course just in his mind; he's just as much freedom as before, to press his lips against her a little more fervently, to part his lips slightly, tasting. Breaking contact with a wet, lurid sound when he speaks.]
Which part of me?
[It's some manner of lazy banter, because surely every bit of his mouth is as soft as the rest — even so, he darts out his tongue to swipe a slow lick experimentally through her folds. The tang of her teases his tongue.]
[ not quite as smoothly as she would have liked to say it—a tremor and a shaky exhale at the end. the sounds of his kisses are nearly as nice as the warmth of them. she thunks her head back on the chaise and lets it loll towards one shoulder, gazing at him askance. look at him... just look. ]
But I'd be making a hasty assessment, having hardly tasted you at all.
[The compliment she wishes to hear isn't difficult to earn; it's more so that Sholmes does find himself delighted to play the game of harmless teasing, of pretending that he needs more data before he can give her a positive assessment.]
Indeed, I might be here for quite a while yet before I can tell you one way or another. I assume... that won't be a problem.
[And with a fleeting smile, just like that, he buries his mouth between her legs again. The folds of her cunt meet his lips, and part for his tongue — a long seeking swipe upwards again, as though to lap up all he can in a single moment. The tip of his tongue brushing against her clit near the end of it.]
the pinch of her brows furrows deeper, pleasure in lieu of annoyance. as though she is trying to concentrate on it: good girl and a lingering kiss. her thighs jump and tremble slightly when his lip and tongue slide over her clit, that static shock sensation that melts into warmth all through her body.
[Don't be annoyed, Sprezzatura. Just accept that younger Sholmes was and is a little bit of a brat.
But surely she can forgive him, given how he offers her one more long, luxuriant lick upwards as she threads her fingers into his hair. And there, he feels it again, the nub of her clit, no doubt wanting for the majority of his attention — and there, too, is where he draws in closer, retracting his tongue in favor of sealing his lips over it, instead.
[ simply pouring out of her at surprising pitch, her heart all at once in her throat and every ounce of focus between her legs. sounding like "auuw", almost; like pain, almost. a rich and heavy cry. could life sustain itself on a feeling like this one? well, it must have.
she pulls on the back of his head. palms it without restraint, thoughtlessly angling him how she wants. deeper against her cunt, so that his nose buries in soft and damp curls. yes, he has the idea of it. those pursed lips, for one. the sucking... ah. for another. ]
[Rather adamant in her adjustment of his face, the pull against his scalp situating him just as she likes it. Buried deeper, the scent of her potent.
And god, the sound she makes. Sholmes might mistake it as actual pain were he given no context of the situation, but knowing that he can make her feel such a way is exhilarating.]
Mmn.
[The only real response he can give her with his mouth otherwise busy. She directs him to use his entire mouth, to use more, and he can only guess that means for him to envelop her in ways that feel more complete. A longer, harder suck; his lips pressed in, a full kiss, and his tongue... its tip a litte swirl around that sensitive spot of hers.]
[ much better—but still not quite what she wants. maybe nothing can live up to the enormity of what she wants. nevertheless, Sprezzatura gasps in the affirmative, her cunt clenching on the air and her clit throbbing in his mouth.
she loves that pull. ]
Da—oh, da.
[ as she's clumsily trying to get her thighs open and pulled back even wider, it makes her seem a little like a flower coming into bloom, all spread limbs and petals. her tail, which lays limp over the edge of the cushion between them, twitches up the inside of one of his thighs. ]
[Maybe he can't live up to the enormity of what she wants, but he can at least make this last as long as either of them can hold out. A long, langourous suck, a wet release. The same again — running with the metaphor, it would not be unlike trying to pull nectar from a flower. Again and again.
He can't speak, of course. But he can spread his own legs a little farther apart, sinking incrementally lower by doing so (only possible thanks to leaning against the chaise, at that), to encourage wherever her tail is drifting.]
[ nectar... well, he earns something like that. heady and slick on his lips and chin, while Sprezzatura's breath comes in little gasps as if of pain, and her thighs jolt again and again. electrified movement.
the lower he sinks, the wider his spread, the warmer she burns. if she could only look at him from another angle and appreciate the bend of his back and the tightness of his trousers on his backside, but like this, she is full up on appreciation. can barely breathe for all her hoarse cries, murmurations.
into the open vee of his trousers. around the heavy throbbing length she finds there, waiting. she begins to stroke him in time with each suck. pull, release. pull, release.
babbling: ] Make me shine, ohh. Play with my mole, touch it—
[He feels like his own face is on fire, and that has nothing to do with how he's practically buried between her legs, sucking at her clit. An interruption comes when she tugs at his aching cock, desperate for attention, Sholmes allowing himself a short gasp, his lips and chin shining from her.]
God...
[Ohh, that feels divine. Addictingly so. He can understand why people kill over this.
Touch her mole? Her hole? Would she care if it were either? His hand clumsily joins him, venturing in just beneath his face to nudge his fingers experimentally against.... her hole.]
[ and the stroking continues. the coil moves sinuously up, down, up, down, a squeeze. and it continues. only faltering when his fingers nudge between and beneath, sliding against slickness which has begun to drip towards the base of her tail.
oh?? he certainly is not a shy boy. her own gasp turns into a raspy laugh. ]
[It's all a pause at once, then, dizzying. He blinks, distracted by her stroking tail and her wet cunt and her words, trying the best he can to peer over and across at her.]
Oh.
[Moves his fingers away from her hole, then. Less embarrassed than he is owlish about the whole thing, and seeks her mole, instead.]
[ he can't precisely touch her mole without touching her rim, and vice versa. so this is whining just to whine. adoringly, she picks her fingers through his hair, curls a tuft of bang around one finger, tugs sllllllloooowly on his cock. ]
[It amounts to the same, he realizes, so she's likely just being fussy for the fun of it. Well. Who's he to complain? Sholmes has been known to do the same.]
A-Ahhh... [Tries to tease in return, but it's rather hard when she's stroking him so slowly like that. Unlike anything he's felt before, that tail of hers. A gentle ruck of his hips forward, as though to follow her tempo.]
You'll have to make up your mind. You're splitting my focus too far afield, otherwise...
[His fingertip circles her hole, gentle, slow, sometimes lingering when it nudges past her mole.]
[ how perfect... on her swell of a dreamy moan, ] Oh, I love this...!
[ surely the drug assists: lengthens her focus, holds her inside herself. the slowly slickening circles of his fingertip and the lightness of it. she begins to twitch in time. and his mouth on her cunt, the soft probing tongue, coating her and keeping her glistening... she pulls him deeper into her folds as though she's going to smother him there. everything couching him wet and musky and warm, ticklish damp curls, twinging muscles. ]
Have you any bottles which might fit...?
[ slow, lingering, coaxing pulls. another loop. another tug. ]
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finalflight2024-09-12 10:58 am
no subject
Which part of me?
[It's some manner of lazy banter, because surely every bit of his mouth is as soft as the rest — even so, he darts out his tongue to swipe a slow lick experimentally through her folds. The tang of her teases his tongue.]
no subject
[ not quite as smoothly as she would have liked to say it—a tremor and a shaky exhale at the end. the sounds of his kisses are nearly as nice as the warmth of them. she thunks her head back on the chaise and lets it loll towards one shoulder, gazing at him askance. look at him... just look. ]
What do you think?
no subject
A hum of faux consideration, a low rumble between her legs.]
Hmm…
no subject
no subject
[The compliment she wishes to hear isn't difficult to earn; it's more so that Sholmes does find himself delighted to play the game of harmless teasing, of pretending that he needs more data before he can give her a positive assessment.]
Indeed, I might be here for quite a while yet before I can tell you one way or another. I assume... that won't be a problem.
no subject
no subject
....... Nyet. No problems.
no subject
That's a good girl — I didn't think so.
[And with a fleeting smile, just like that, he buries his mouth between her legs again. The folds of her cunt meet his lips, and part for his tongue — a long seeking swipe upwards again, as though to lap up all he can in a single moment. The tip of his tongue brushing against her clit near the end of it.]
no subject
the pinch of her brows furrows deeper, pleasure in lieu of annoyance. as though she is trying to concentrate on it: good girl and a lingering kiss. her thighs jump and tremble slightly when his lip and tongue slide over her clit, that static shock sensation that melts into warmth all through her body.
ahhh.
Sprezzatura gets her hands in his hair again. ]
Ohh.
[ a touch whiny, despite herself ]
no subject
But surely she can forgive him, given how he offers her one more long, luxuriant lick upwards as she threads her fingers into his hair. And there, he feels it again, the nub of her clit, no doubt wanting for the majority of his attention — and there, too, is where he draws in closer, retracting his tongue in favor of sealing his lips over it, instead.
A slow, sucking kiss.]
no subject
[ simply pouring out of her at surprising pitch, her heart all at once in her throat and every ounce of focus between her legs. sounding like "auuw", almost; like pain, almost. a rich and heavy cry. could life sustain itself on a feeling like this one? well, it must have.
she pulls on the back of his head. palms it without restraint, thoughtlessly angling him how she wants. deeper against her cunt, so that his nose buries in soft and damp curls. yes, he has the idea of it. those pursed lips, for one. the sucking... ah. for another. ]
Use your entire mouth.
no subject
And god, the sound she makes. Sholmes might mistake it as actual pain were he given no context of the situation, but knowing that he can make her feel such a way is exhilarating.]
Mmn.
[The only real response he can give her with his mouth otherwise busy. She directs him to use his entire mouth, to use more, and he can only guess that means for him to envelop her in ways that feel more complete. A longer, harder suck; his lips pressed in, a full kiss, and his tongue... its tip a litte swirl around that sensitive spot of hers.]
Mmmm? [Again. Like so?]
no subject
she loves that pull. ]
Da—oh, da.
[ as she's clumsily trying to get her thighs open and pulled back even wider, it makes her seem a little like a flower coming into bloom, all spread limbs and petals. her tail, which lays limp over the edge of the cushion between them, twitches up the inside of one of his thighs. ]
I'M BACK
He can't speak, of course. But he can spread his own legs a little farther apart, sinking incrementally lower by doing so (only possible thanks to leaning against the chaise, at that), to encourage wherever her tail is drifting.]
:pinkmoon:
the lower he sinks, the wider his spread, the warmer she burns. if she could only look at him from another angle and appreciate the bend of his back and the tightness of his trousers on his backside, but like this, she is full up on appreciation. can barely breathe for all her hoarse cries, murmurations.
into the open vee of his trousers. around the heavy throbbing length she finds there, waiting. she begins to stroke him in time with each suck. pull, release. pull, release.
babbling: ] Make me shine, ohh. Play with my mole, touch it—
[ did she say mole or hole? well. either way. ]
:pinksun:
God...
[Ohh, that feels divine. Addictingly so. He can understand why people kill over this.
Touch her mole? Her hole? Would she care if it were either? His hand clumsily joins him, venturing in just beneath his face to nudge his fingers experimentally against.... her hole.]
Re: :pinksun:
oh?? he certainly is not a shy boy. her own gasp turns into a raspy laugh. ]
Mmmmmole.
no subject
Oh.
[Moves his fingers away from her hole, then. Less embarrassed than he is owlish about the whole thing, and seeks her mole, instead.]
no subject
[ he can't precisely touch her mole without touching her rim, and vice versa. so this is whining just to whine. adoringly, she picks her fingers through his hair, curls a tuft of bang around one finger, tugs sllllllloooowly on his cock. ]
Very gentle.
no subject
A-Ahhh... [Tries to tease in return, but it's rather hard when she's stroking him so slowly like that. Unlike anything he's felt before, that tail of hers. A gentle ruck of his hips forward, as though to follow her tempo.]
You'll have to make up your mind. You're splitting my focus too far afield, otherwise...
[His fingertip circles her hole, gentle, slow, sometimes lingering when it nudges past her mole.]
no subject
[ surely the drug assists: lengthens her focus, holds her inside herself. the slowly slickening circles of his fingertip and the lightness of it. she begins to twitch in time. and his mouth on her cunt, the soft probing tongue, coating her and keeping her glistening... she pulls him deeper into her folds as though she's going to smother him there. everything couching him wet and musky and warm, ticklish damp curls, twinging muscles. ]
Have you any bottles which might fit...?
[ slow, lingering, coaxing pulls. another loop. another tug. ]