[ she tosses her head back onto the chaise, hands taut in his hair. after a moment she remembers her tail and tightens it into a slow, corkscrewing pull. ]
Well, he hears that as a challenge. And Sholmes, imbued with as much stubbornness as the drug will allow to cut through his otherwise useless senses, feels the critical need to rise to it.
Which works in her favor, of course.
He never was shy, but now he's all the more bold in how he chooses to taste her. Her folds will part for his tongue as he drags it up and purposefully between them, utterly obscene in the way he collects her taste. He will do that few more times before its tip rises and circles slowly, then quickly, around her clit.]
her breath hitches hard once or twice, Sprezzatura holding back her moans out of her own stubbornness, then again, until she sounds like a woman submerged in ice. gasps and little subvocalizations low in her throat. everything he licks is velvety soft.
and oh, her poor, loved clit. it seems to strain beneath his tongue, grow wet under his attention. stomach muscles are fluttering. her knees pull up higher towards her shoulders. ]
[Inexperienced as he is, he must be doing something right. Every sound of hers, held back as though out of pride, does little to conceal every small physical tell. And the not-so-small, he thinks, as she pulls her legs up.
One more long, indulgent swipe of his tongue. A breath, fanning across her folds, and then.
[ what she neglects is to say how fortunate she herself feels. as if speaking it aloud might curse it somehow. she just holds the feeling close, guarding it. ]
[That she’d want to be held speaks volumes, after his tongue had been tasting her so thoroughly. Sholmes pushes his elbows into the chaise, trying to rise…
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finalflight2024-09-12 10:58 am
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Sholmes feels a sudden burst of competitive flare with... himself.]
I can be just as good as him.
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Put your mouth back on... Herlock...
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[He will leave it at that, though, as he seals his mouth over her clit again, tongue swirling around it, giving one hard... suck.]
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Y-You—
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He remains where he is, merely giving her one more plush, sucking kiss, followed by an obscenely wet release.]
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[ she tosses her head back onto the chaise, hands taut in his hair. after a moment she remembers her tail and tightens it into a slow, corkscrewing pull. ]
You are upset I disallow y-you?
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I fail to see why he is permitted and I am not. If we're the same, then what shortcoming to you see in me?
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Eat me well, maybe I change my mind. Hm?
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Well, he hears that as a challenge. And Sholmes, imbued with as much stubbornness as the drug will allow to cut through his otherwise useless senses, feels the critical need to rise to it.
Which works in her favor, of course.
He never was shy, but now he's all the more bold in how he chooses to taste her. Her folds will part for his tongue as he drags it up and purposefully between them, utterly obscene in the way he collects her taste. He will do that few more times before its tip rises and circles slowly, then quickly, around her clit.]
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her breath hitches hard once or twice, Sprezzatura holding back her moans out of her own stubbornness, then again, until she sounds like a woman submerged in ice. gasps and little subvocalizations low in her throat. everything he licks is velvety soft.
and oh, her poor, loved clit. it seems to strain beneath his tongue, grow wet under his attention. stomach muscles are fluttering. her knees pull up higher towards her shoulders. ]
A-ah—...
[ it's... unfair. how good it feels. ]
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One more long, indulgent swipe of his tongue. A breath, fanning across her folds, and then.
He pauses. Smiles.]
/2
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COVERS HER OWN FACE. she is aware suddenly that she is covered from head to toe in goosebumps. ]
You are too good.
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Mm. You have plenty of tells to read, dear girl. It's all a matter of following through.
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Not only for that reason.
[ as little as a smile undoes her, floods her with a love so intense it hurts ]
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And what other?
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Because you are my beloved.
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Matters of the heart... are so rarely bound to the same rules of logic and deduction.
[Such sentiment, though. He wonders what it was like, falling in love with this woman. Falling in love at all.]
He's fortunate, you know. This... future version of me.
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He is.
[ what she neglects is to say how fortunate she herself feels. as if speaking it aloud might curse it somehow. she just holds the feeling close, guarding it. ]
Come back up here. I want being held.
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Of course, dear girl.
[That she’d want to be held speaks volumes, after his tongue had been tasting her so thoroughly. Sholmes pushes his elbows into the chaise, trying to rise…
With great… effort…]
…you may— have to help me up.
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