DEDICATED HENRATURRA POST;

[vecna]

(( when the sun sets, we're both the same ))

Comments

[velluminous]

[ she's small enough he might be able to glimpse enough... especially with how she seams herself against him, as if trying to sinks into him, when he dips his fingers beneath.

not very far, though. her trousers have a high waist and it sits snug around her. there's very little leeway for a wayward hand without opening the buttons. her spine tingles.

no sign of those panties she speaks of. ]

Your mind went somewhere, hmmm?

[vecna]

[Just enough to glimpse at how his fingers can’t quite slide down as much as he’d like, the waistband too snug to offer much more clearance.]

Somewhere very obscene, yes. You always drag my thoughts there.

[Moves one hand to slip between them and work at the fastenings of her trousers instead.]

Is that a problem?

[velluminous]

[ her voice hitches at his throat as she answers: ] Where has it gone?

[vecna]

[With that teasing amusement of his that she should know so well.] To places that would definitely wake up the rest of our little family.

[velluminous]

Don't tease me if we cannot do it.

[vecna]

Oh, but we could... if you think you could be quiet.

[By now, he's properly undone the front of her trousers, and one hand snakes around to the back to properly slip in and feel at the curve of a cheek. Squeezes.]

[velluminous]

[ her skin is feverishly warm, as though their time outdoors has put her body into overdrive. she slumps against his shoulder at the squeeze, a little sigh. it is so much better to be skin on skin ]

I hate being quiet.

[vecna]

[She is almost always untenably warm to Henry. Good thing affection and happy associations make it actually tenable instead.]

How come?

[velluminous]

I want how I am feeling to be known and heard. So much of my life I am told be quiet, girl.

[vecna]

[Oh.]

I see. You want to be defiant. Me, I kept the habit.

[Lab and whatnot, you know.]

[velluminous]

Your quiet voice is beautiful. I love it. But...

[vecna]

But what?

[velluminous]

[velluminous]

I am wishing I could hear it moaning more often.

[vecna]

[That moment of hesitation. He chuckles, pleased.]

Is that embarrassing to admit to?

[velluminous]

You give me hard times.

[vecna]

I’m really not this time. [This time.] You know you can share with me anything and everything you enjoy.

[velluminous]

I enjoy... [ eurgh. ] your voice. I say this already. It is so soft and gentle, like breath down my back. Like butterfly wings.

[vecna]

[The soft and gentle side of his voice, the low intonations of kindness and consideration that are partly a mask, partly just the remnants of a young, awkward boy forced to grow up quickly, and partly sincere — the latter applying more often with her than not.]

Oh? Do you like it when I speak to you sweetly?

[He turns his head, letting the words practically whisper into her ear. Meanwhile, his hands have not forgotten their challenge of trying to find any hint of her panties. They dip in lower, his fingers molding to her curves, groping. Squeezing. And... if he can, gently, very gently, parting.]

Like this, Sprezzatura?

[velluminous]

[ precisely like that. her entire spine tingles with a jolt of pleasure, a thrill that he indulges her something so simple, so undoing. his voice silk on the nerves. she shivers, conspicuous, and drapes against him more completely than before. ]

Da. No one alive would not like it.

[ his hands, too, are a pleasure. making her heart thump. seems that she is not wearing panties at all. there is only warm, flushed skin beneath his cupping hands. a slight arch comes into her spine when he parts her. ]

Ah...

[vecna]

[If he had known it would have been so easy to undo her, literally speaking sweet nothings, maybe he would have added this to his toolset much earlier.]

But I only care if you enjoy it. I only want to reserve my sweetest, and my most obscene... for you.

[Each syllable a flutter against the shell of her ear, more so now that she drapes against him.

Still no panties. They really must be the smallest in the world.]

Still nothing...

[velluminous]

[ or else nonexistent. Sprezzatura hugs her arms around the back of his neck and hangs there, shivery, with her cheek pressed to his shoulder. ]

You are so...

[vecna]

[Do they count as the smallest panties in the world if she’s wearing… none?

He nuzzles his cheek against her, a brief departure from his words in her ear.]

So what? Tell me.

[velluminous]

Easy to want.

[ nothing but bare skin beneath those trousers. lots of that. ]

[vecna]

Not as easy to want as you.

[She could look at him just the right way and have him wrapped around her little finger. They both know that.

For now, though, he dips his hands even lower, to the point where she practically sitting on the tips of his fingers. Skin on skin touch only.]

Now then, where are these panties of yours…

[He’s starting to think they are, indeed, just not there.]