[ she tosses the dildo at the bed, where it summarily nestles into the rumpled covers. but... also... plucks a pretty purple vial of oil and a second glass "accoutrement" from the drawer. a short, thick-stemmed plug in purple and pink glass.
it still doesn't feel right to her. not the mood, nor the bitchy banter she's engaging. ah, well. back to the bed with her plunder. ]
[ it is modestly-sized, and not at all physiologically accurate. smooth and tapered; meant for function over form. as she sits, Sprezzatura spares it a judgemental look. ]
[Definitely function over form. But this is what she wants to put inside of him? Somehow, that's... exciting, makes his heart thump a little harder in his chest.
[ ah... maybe the mood isn't completely ruined after all. nudges the plug and the vial of oil between her spread legs, where they roll with the divots in the bed to lay against one of her ankles, hooked beneath the other. ]
You cannot stand to have idle hands, hm? [ hahahaha. she smiles to herself, privately. ] Become devil's plaything.
[His fingers whisper along her ankles, then the line of both legs, just because he can. Before they finally dip down low and pick up the plug and the oil, and he considers them both with the same curiosity as the dildo just moments before.
He chuckles at the little joke.]
Your plaything, definitely. It's less painful than just being delegated to only watching.
[ he'll be able to see the goosebumps suddenly erupt all the way down her spine. the sound alone prompts it. lowers down until her cheek presses to the bedspread, and she can close her eyes and just ... focus on the presence of him behind her. inhale. exhale. slowly... ]
[Yes, what a reaction she's already having at the very knowledge of him being behind her. He says nothing at first, simply the shuffling of the sheets to accompany his non-reply. And then, suddenly, the feeling of one hand on her cheek, pulling it gently aside.]
[ a huskiness to her reply. her tail even twitches when he touches—the anticipation builds differently when she cannot see. reaches back again and parts her opposite cheek. fingers splayed. there's the secret mole, and the flushed rim, and the soft curls that trail down and prettily frame her cunt.
another inhale and another exhale. this time tighter. he may even notice how her toes have curled in anticipation. ]
[What a pretty sight, as always. That hidden mole, for only him to see. When he touches her again, with his other hand, it's clear that he's already slicked his fingers with oil, and he teases a feather-light touch right atop it. So close to her rim, but not quite.
She cannot see, but his powers keep the vial and glass plug afloat while his hands are otherwise engaged. His voice has turned soft, so soft, almost cooing.]
Out of any of it? More than your cunt wrapped around me?
[ the anticipation. the wanting. she loves the thrill of finally receiving his touch. the room's air cools her where his fingers wet her mole and the tender flesh of her rim.
and she loves his voice when it gets this way. ah. the kind of innocent tone that pairs best with doing something naughty things. ]
[It's a tone that settles well on his throat and tongue; especially when doing naughty things.
His finger moves just so to the side, nudging against her rim. Despite the teasing start, he wastes no time in circling it with his touch, watching it slick and shine with the oil he is sure not to waste.]
More than my fingers exploring every single hole of yours?
[ probably not... more than that... shuddering out an exhale, Sprezzatura twitches herself, purposefully, beneath his touch. the advent of being pried open. the tightness in her chest, waiting, waiting, for the moment Henry decides to turn that gently-stroking fingertip en-pointe and burrow it inside. each passing second winds her tighter; she wants it more.
both hands on her backside, now, spreading herself just wide enough to really accept his touch, then squishing her cheeks closed around him. ]
He feels her twitch beneath his touch, and whether purposefully or instinctively, it doesn't matter. Her anticipation is palpable; he can feel it roll off her mind, too, without even trying. He might let her remain hanging in this moment of expectancy a little longer, just so he can revel in how much she wants his touch... for a bit more.
But then the soft skin of her cheeks closes around his nuzzling touch, and he decides he'd rather feel her warmth wrapped around that same finger, and he pushes forward, burrowing inside... slowly. Letting her accept him in, slick with oil.]
[ every moment Henry Creel does not have his fingers in her is just leading up to the next. she gusts out a shaky exhale, spreads herself again, squishes closed again. when she closes her eyes, it all narrows down to that warm press working its way into her. a slender finger. an artist's hands. oh, she loves that moment of entry—fluttering around him, kissing around him. the anticipation of opening for him.
she cannot wait to do it back. ]
Oh—feels good—
[ still not an answer. but maybe a little. she wriggles in place a bit, trying to arch to feel more of him. ]
[That warm and wonderful stretch is unlike anything else, the length of his finger finding its home buried inside of her, slow and steady. He thinks to himself that he should touch her like this more often, turning his wrist just slightly as she arches, just to feel at a different angle.]
Wouldn't you want my cock buried inside of you like this, instead?
[Again, a tease, a temptation that he knows she's unlikely to swerve from her original idea so easily.]
no subject
[ she tosses the dildo at the bed, where it summarily nestles into the rumpled covers. but... also... plucks a pretty purple vial of oil and a second glass "accoutrement" from the drawer. a short, thick-stemmed plug in purple and pink glass.
it still doesn't feel right to her. not the mood, nor the bitchy banter she's engaging. ah, well. back to the bed with her plunder. ]
no subject
Picks up… the dildo. Curiously.]
Hmm. “Instruments of pleasure?” [He’s joking.]
no subject
Who taught you to speak this way.
no subject
He sets his back down for now.]
"Copulation accessories."
no subject
Yes, yes, all those things at once.
[ she turns from him and bends over the bed, on all fours. legs open but crossed at the ankles. one hand drifts back to cup her cheek and part it. ]
Now, wait your turn.
no subject
Do you need help with that?
no subject
Am I not going fast enough for Mister Creel?
no subject
I just like to be useful.
no subject
no subject
All right. Here, let me have everything.
no subject
You cannot stand to have idle hands, hm? [ hahahaha. she smiles to herself, privately. ] Become devil's plaything.
no subject
He chuckles at the little joke.]
Your plaything, definitely. It's less painful than just being delegated to only watching.
no subject
no subject
no subject
That is entire point, Henry.
no subject
I'm usually patient, but not always.
no subject
[ a huskiness to her reply. her tail even twitches when he touches—the anticipation builds differently when she cannot see. reaches back again and parts her opposite cheek. fingers splayed. there's the secret mole, and the flushed rim, and the soft curls that trail down and prettily frame her cunt.
another inhale and another exhale. this time tighter. he may even notice how her toes have curled in anticipation. ]
This is my favourite part...
[ it's all her favourite part. ]
no subject
She cannot see, but his powers keep the vial and glass plug afloat while his hands are otherwise engaged. His voice has turned soft, so soft, almost cooing.]
Out of any of it? More than your cunt wrapped around me?
no subject
[ the anticipation. the wanting. she loves the thrill of finally receiving his touch. the room's air cools her where his fingers wet her mole and the tender flesh of her rim.
and she loves his voice when it gets this way. ah. the kind of innocent tone that pairs best with doing something naughty things. ]
no subject
His finger moves just so to the side, nudging against her rim. Despite the teasing start, he wastes no time in circling it with his touch, watching it slick and shine with the oil he is sure not to waste.]
More than my fingers exploring every single hole of yours?
no subject
[ probably not... more than that... shuddering out an exhale, Sprezzatura twitches herself, purposefully, beneath his touch. the advent of being pried open. the tightness in her chest, waiting, waiting, for the moment Henry decides to turn that gently-stroking fingertip en-pointe and burrow it inside. each passing second winds her tighter; she wants it more.
both hands on her backside, now, spreading herself just wide enough to really accept his touch, then squishing her cheeks closed around him. ]
no subject
He feels her twitch beneath his touch, and whether purposefully or instinctively, it doesn't matter. Her anticipation is palpable; he can feel it roll off her mind, too, without even trying. He might let her remain hanging in this moment of expectancy a little longer, just so he can revel in how much she wants his touch... for a bit more.
But then the soft skin of her cheeks closes around his nuzzling touch, and he decides he'd rather feel her warmth wrapped around that same finger, and he pushes forward, burrowing inside... slowly. Letting her accept him in, slick with oil.]
No?
no subject
she cannot wait to do it back. ]
Oh—feels good—
[ still not an answer. but maybe a little. she wriggles in place a bit, trying to arch to feel more of him. ]
no subject
Wouldn't you want my cock buried inside of you like this, instead?
[Again, a tease, a temptation that he knows she's unlikely to swerve from her original idea so easily.]
/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
i'm here again!!!
HENWY🥹
CWEEL!!!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
ignore the blood my paid ran out