[ oh, but at the mention, she craves it again. another puff. that warm languidness. how it was to linger on the knife's edge of a change between them and feel the charge in the air skate across her skin.
grunting, she tugs her tail out from its painful bend beneath her. the face of conceiving, perhaps, that he will be a one pump chump. so to speak. ]
[Says the guy who gets to fuck a beautiful woman. It is an experiment, a curiosity at its most empirical; and a simple glimpse into the connection that they might share in the future at its most sentimental.
Lowers himself to kiss at the corner of her mouth when she moves her tail aside. The warm press of his cock against her is impossible to miss like this.]
It's me wanting... desperately to know my wife better.
[ this is a teenage boy, a boy with a lightning mind, his curiosity piqued for the first time, discovering a desire to unravel and learn of things he had never seen the need for prior. and he is very high.
the off-aimed kiss. the slender line of heat straining against her inner thigh. her heart flutters; Sprezzatura closes her eyes and kisses the corner of his mouth in return. ]
Ahh. You pose good argument.
[ does he???
either way, wriggling now to get her legs up on either side of his hips. an easy way in. ]
[TMW YOU REALIZE SHOLMES STILL HAS HIS PANTS MOSTLY ON-]
Irrefutable.
[Is it.
While she wiggles, her legs seeking the frame him, he realizes he must at least push his trousers and aught with them down. This, too, is a bit of a clumsy struggle, his hips wiggling to shuffle them down, down... He manages, though, via sheer determination. The heat of him nudges against her the entire time.]
[ she'd nearly think he's doing it on purpose. to drive her out of her mind. clumsy hands begin the work of his blouse, long after he requested its removal.
all but growling, all but whining, ] Bare to me, bare to me. Show me every inch.
[He barely manages to get his pants shuffled down to his thighs, before he can free up his arms to try to... wiggle out of his shirt as she undoes each button. Sorry. The wiggling is just inevitable and unavoidable, but moreso since he's going to have to try to get out of his sleeves once able to.]
I will, I'm going to...
[A strange hurried eagerness, bolstered by her words. Need this shirt... off... now.]
[ the instant it falls open, she's sliding her hands beneath the panels to feel at taut, smooth, young skin. all of his clumsiness compounded by her own. she doesn't mind the wiggling; she's wriggling, too. ]
[Her hands rove, leaving a sensorial trail of warmth, and it feels good… Not even the ridge of an old scar beneath her palms, collected from old cases, from this version of Sholmes. He has not yet experienced them.
With greatest effort, he frees his arms. Tosses his shirt aside with minimal effort, and it ends up hanging off the edge of the chaise.]
There—
[Triumphant. She can now adore his frame, which is lithe and young and familiar to what she may remember.]
[She's definitely seeing him blush, spreading so deeply and completely it's as though he were never a less erythristic color at all.
And how easy it would be to relax in the great effort of finally freeing himself of his clothes, to let his limbs feel heavy and weighed down by the ever-present lingering of the drug. But the sting at his hips is poignant, making each moment feel alive and eminent, each second existing only to press forward into the next and do as she says. To work quickly.
He wants to feel her wrapped around him; his clumsiness and experience are hardly ever barriers to experimentation, and this is nothing different. It's an awkward shuffle to arrange himself at just the right angle, sitting up just enough to grasp at his cock and align himself with her entrance, its head nudging up against her wet heat and pressing in. Hips pushing forward so that she might accept him.]
Ms Vaux— [Even something as plain as her name on his lips feels so lewd right now.] Let me feel the... the shape of you.
[ yes yes yes yes yes!! the sound she makes now is one of exultation; relief at the pivotal moment finally coming to pass. it's wonderful. he's so good to her.
a little pressure, a push... he slips inside easy inches at a time. mmh, perfect union. ]
Here you are. Here you are—
[ one leg hiking up against the back of the chaise. grace and poise mean little when what she wants most is to have him hilted and straining inside. ]
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retroductions) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
finalflight2024-09-12 10:58 am
no subject
I'm trying-
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[ she falls back dramatically ]
no subject
[She falls back, and this gives him more leeway to wobble to the side and shuffle off of her lap—
And indeed, topple forward into her. Isn’t this erotic! Opium was a mistake.]
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there's the crack of his chin on her temple, her glasses arms askew, a hand where it shouldn't go ]
Auwtch!
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Whoops. At least he has landed in a more ideal position, atop her but not strictly on her lap.]
Sorry-
[Aaaa PROPS UP ON AN ELBOW SUCCESSFULLY NOW. And adjusts her glasses with his other hand.]
Imagine if we’d… ha, smoked more.
no subject
grunting, she tugs her tail out from its painful bend beneath her. the face of conceiving, perhaps, that he will be a one pump chump. so to speak. ]
This is mistake...
no subject
Hm. I don't think so.
[Says the guy who gets to fuck a beautiful woman. It is an experiment, a curiosity at its most empirical; and a simple glimpse into the connection that they might share in the future at its most sentimental.
Lowers himself to kiss at the corner of her mouth when she moves her tail aside. The warm press of his cock against her is impossible to miss like this.]
It's me wanting... desperately to know my wife better.
no subject
the off-aimed kiss. the slender line of heat straining against her inner thigh. her heart flutters; Sprezzatura closes her eyes and kisses the corner of his mouth in return. ]
Ahh. You pose good argument.
[ does he???
either way, wriggling now to get her legs up on either side of his hips. an easy way in. ]
no subject
Irrefutable.
[Is it.
While she wiggles, her legs seeking the frame him, he realizes he must at least push his trousers and aught with them down. This, too, is a bit of a clumsy struggle, his hips wiggling to shuffle them down, down... He manages, though, via sheer determination. The heat of him nudges against her the entire time.]
no subject
all but growling, all but whining, ] Bare to me, bare to me. Show me every inch.
no subject
I will, I'm going to...
[A strange hurried eagerness, bolstered by her words. Need this shirt... off... now.]
no subject
Da, da, da—
no subject
With greatest effort, he frees his arms. Tosses his shirt aside with minimal effort, and it ends up hanging off the edge of the chaise.]
There—
[Triumphant. She can now adore his frame, which is lithe and young and familiar to what she may remember.]
no subject
taut and lithe... young, yes. the frame beneath is the same. the appeal now, though—
hha. without pausing, she starts pushing at his trousers, and her claws leave pink trails at his hips. this is not bared! ]
Hurry and stuff me full, Herlock. Herlock—
[ she likes prompting his blush ]
no subject
And how easy it would be to relax in the great effort of finally freeing himself of his clothes, to let his limbs feel heavy and weighed down by the ever-present lingering of the drug. But the sting at his hips is poignant, making each moment feel alive and eminent, each second existing only to press forward into the next and do as she says. To work quickly.
He wants to feel her wrapped around him; his clumsiness and experience are hardly ever barriers to experimentation, and this is nothing different. It's an awkward shuffle to arrange himself at just the right angle, sitting up just enough to grasp at his cock and align himself with her entrance, its head nudging up against her wet heat and pressing in. Hips pushing forward so that she might accept him.]
Ms Vaux— [Even something as plain as her name on his lips feels so lewd right now.] Let me feel the... the shape of you.
no subject
a little pressure, a push... he slips inside easy inches at a time. mmh, perfect union. ]
Here you are. Here you are—
[ one leg hiking up against the back of the chaise. grace and poise mean little when what she wants most is to have him hilted and straining inside. ]