[Look at the two of them, butt-grabbers. He huffs with amusement, and maybe because he knows her, has an inkling of what she might be looking for when she peeks over his shoulder.]
Calling them little-minded! Of course I am not wanting them walking in!
[ a little growly, some embarrassment. she has to strain against him to reach still once he straightens himself out. pinpricking at the fat of his cheek, pulling herself snug to him with her handfuls as leverage. he's ripe for the teasing, but for some reason it's so rare that she feels she manages it, these days.
one finger strains to the side to fit snug between his buttocks. ]
[Ohh, that makes a warmth wind through him, like a little zap of electricity snaking through the torpor of the post-orgasm haze. He presses his hips against her again — or at least makes the effort of movement, given they can't possibly get any closer.
And yes, copies! Sort of. His long finger simply nudges downward and gently circles her rim, shameless as always.]
I can't help it if that's what you do to me sometimes.
You are like little boy begging for what he wants.
[ bit by bit, she is being caged between Henry's body and the couch. another grinding press that only kisses her folds against him; another stark reminder of their joining, and the warmth gathering between them like a blanket.
what if she copies him, now? having to strain to reach, but the nudge then of her blunted claw tip. she toys with his pucker once, then those slow circles. again, her heart is getting faster. it appeals to touch one another the same way. ]
[And he will always, always oblige. The way she touches him is warming, and he knows himself well enough that if she continues in that manner, his cock will not take terribly long to stiffen inside of her again. But for now, the lazy, slow circles are a strange, lurid comfort. He wonders if it is the same for her, as he parts her again, a little wider, with those large hands of his. Plays at her hole in a similarly languid way, wondering if she'll twitch beneath his touch.]
I'd do anything for you to touch me like you're doing now.
[ all of it is a comfort. the soft plead in his voice, coaxing. the heat of him lain so close against and over her. his hands cupping her, gently, and spreading her, and that fingertip roving against her, little strokes and pauses and dragging touch. she remains so relaxed that she doesn't twitch, but instead shivers intermittently, and her long exhales, too. ]
I like this.
[ her finger changes tempo: up and down, back and forth, curling at the end of each stroke so that her nail teases at slipping inside... only to slip away instead. ohh. her face feels warmer than usual. ]
[Close, touching, loving in both lewd and affectionate ways. This feels like the consummate example of their relationship at its core.
She doesn't twitch, but the shiver is just as compelling. It seems to relax her—meanwhile, his own heart beats harder in his chest at her teasing touch, playing at slipping inside but never quite—and he wonders if she'll end up just dozing off in his arms.]
[ nnnn... she does want more than this. it gnaws at the edges of her contentment: growing heat, suffusing outward; her heart, drumming against her ribcage; an urge deep inside her, all mixed up in her, to possess Henry Creel like never before. she may be able to stand not coming better than he, but she's still Speezzatura Vaux. she wants to feel it. ]
Hmm.
[ bends her finger, dips that nail just inside. and she wriggles it, gently, so he can feel that slight intrusion. feel the hint of fulfillment, as it were. but no deeper. no oil. ]
[Ohh, when that nail nudges in, even a little, he straightens his back again. Expected or otherwise, the sensation is still titillating.
Henry doesn't quite mirror the gesture with his own finger, but he does press down against her hole, as though he might tease at a slight entry himself.]
Aha... of course. Well. [Hm.] We can get dressed, gently shoo the mushrooms out into the living room, then retire to the bedroom and continue?
[ he always looks so pleased, a little mischievous. a long and slow exhale as he pulls from her—the sound damp but no longer obscene—and once he's free and she feels oddly empty once again, Sprezzatura reaches for the throw blanket on the arm of the couch. time to ensconce. ]
[ hand... held. a soft little sigh, as she stands. there is always the risk that moving venues will diminish her desire. she holds into it, too, best she can. ]
[It's a short walk, anyway, and he looks at her like she's the most important thing in the world to him as they move to the bedroom, regardless of his mischievous nature.
Into the bedroom they go. The pillow-blanket-book fort is still standing, with the mushrooms presumably hidden away beneath, sleeping.]
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They're still asleep.
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[ squeezes a buttock a little meanly ]
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How's it rude? Do you want them to walk in on us?
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[ a little growly, some embarrassment. she has to strain against him to reach still once he straightens himself out. pinpricking at the fat of his cheek, pulling herself snug to him with her handfuls as leverage. he's ripe for the teasing, but for some reason it's so rare that she feels she manages it, these days.
one finger strains to the side to fit snug between his buttocks. ]
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He mirrors her gesture, cheekily. (Pun intended.) A long finger snug between her cheeks. And it's far from a strain from him.]
I don't mean it as an insult. But their thoughts are much simpler than ours.
[head empty mushrooms]
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You are thinking very simply right now, also, no?
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And yes, copies! Sort of. His long finger simply nudges downward and gently circles her rim, shameless as always.]
I can't help it if that's what you do to me sometimes.
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You are like little boy begging for what he wants.
[ bit by bit, she is being caged between Henry's body and the couch. another grinding press that only kisses her folds against him; another stark reminder of their joining, and the warmth gathering between them like a blanket.
what if she copies him, now? having to strain to reach, but the nudge then of her blunted claw tip. she toys with his pucker once, then those slow circles. again, her heart is getting faster. it appeals to touch one another the same way. ]
"Please touch me, Ms Vaux"...
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Please, Ms Vaux...
[And he will always, always oblige. The way she touches him is warming, and he knows himself well enough that if she continues in that manner, his cock will not take terribly long to stiffen inside of her again. But for now, the lazy, slow circles are a strange, lurid comfort. He wonders if it is the same for her, as he parts her again, a little wider, with those large hands of his. Plays at her hole in a similarly languid way, wondering if she'll twitch beneath his touch.]
I'd do anything for you to touch me like you're doing now.
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I like this.
[ her finger changes tempo: up and down, back and forth, curling at the end of each stroke so that her nail teases at slipping inside... only to slip away instead. ohh. her face feels warmer than usual. ]
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[Close, touching, loving in both lewd and affectionate ways. This feels like the consummate example of their relationship at its core.
She doesn't twitch, but the shiver is just as compelling. It seems to relax her—meanwhile, his own heart beats harder in his chest at her teasing touch, playing at slipping inside but never quite—and he wonders if she'll end up just dozing off in his arms.]
Even if you're always such a tease.
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Hmm.
[ bends her finger, dips that nail just inside. and she wriggles it, gently, so he can feel that slight intrusion. feel the hint of fulfillment, as it were. but no deeper. no oil. ]
Everything I want is in bedroom...
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Henry doesn't quite mirror the gesture with his own finger, but he does press down against her hole, as though he might tease at a slight entry himself.]
Aha... of course. Well. [Hm.] We can get dressed, gently shoo the mushrooms out into the living room, then retire to the bedroom and continue?
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[ now that's an idea ]
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So, shall we?
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[The fact that she wants to stay like this as long as possible really is endearing, though.]
It’s okay. It’s just for now.
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[ she does not want to disconnect. but she pushes at his shoulder: fine. ]
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[Pushed, he eases back. Seeks to slowly disconnect themselves.]
So we can properly do whatever you want.
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Hhm.
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Easy enough for Henry to remove himself, then shuffle his pants back up to dress himself again as he stands. Smiles at her.]
Come on. [Offers hand?]
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Into the bedroom they go. The pillow-blanket-book fort is still standing, with the mushrooms presumably hidden away beneath, sleeping.]
Pretty impressive, right?
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i'm here again!!!
HENWY🥹
CWEEL!!!
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