DEDICATED HENRATURRA POST;

[vecna]

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

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[vecna]

[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.

[velluminous]

You don't like watching?

[vecna]

I do. But it makes me want to- [pops the top off of the bottle of oil] -touch, too.

[velluminous]

[ 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... ]

That is entire point, Henry.

[vecna]

[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.]

I'm usually patient, but not always.

[velluminous]

Be patient enough.

[ 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. ]

[vecna]

[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?

[velluminous]

...second favourite part...

[ 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. ]

[vecna]

[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?

[velluminous]

Mmhh...

[ 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. ]

[vecna]

[No, probably not more than that.

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?

[velluminous]

[ 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. ]

[vecna]

[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.]

/2

[velluminous]

[ wouldn't she—? ]

[velluminous]

[ up on one elbow, twisting a little ]

You would not do it when I ask you twenty minutes ago!

[vecna]

[The indignity... sorry, he has to laugh again.]

I can change my mind in twenty minutes' time!

/2

[velluminous]

[ rrrrraaaaaaAAAAAAA ]

[velluminous]

No! Too late for you!

[vecna]

[Tries very hard to swallow down another laugh. Tilts his head, and wiggles his finger slightly.]

Are you sure?

[velluminous]

[ ugh! Mammon. she releases her own backside and steadies herself on her forearms, so that it is an easy movement of weight to push herself onto that encroaching finger; to feel it slip deeper, should he let it. ]

Da. Da... Hhah. I will have you leaking all over yourself.

[vecna]

[Should he let it? Why wouldn't he. He wants to slip as deep into as is physically possible. A single finger almost doesn't feel like enough, and down it goes as she swallows him down to the knuckle.]

Hm. Is that a promise? Sprezzatura.

[velluminous]

[ oh...! inhaaaaaale as the widest point of his middle knuckle slides past the tight middle—her body does the rest. pulls him in. kisses around him. she wriggles, hoping to feel the cupping of his other fingers and palm. ]

Mmmh... no... it is fact. You will be as wet as woman.

[vecna]

[Of course his other fingers and palm follows, cupping gently. Showing intimate appreciation.]

And you, knowing the same kind of eagerness that I experience, fucking you.

[As though they're not both equally eager all the time.]

[velluminous]

[ alllll the way in. she stutters out a contented sigh, finally pushes up on her palms until she's stretching like a cat. her backside lowers in tandem. he will know simply from the weight she pushes into his cupping palm that she means to sit on his hand. sit perfectly upright on spread knees. ]

Will you cry out for my like I do you?

[ a leer over her shoulder. there's no other way to describe it. ]

[vecna]

[If that what she wants, she can have it. He will lower his hand to accommodate her if she truly ends up sitting on it. Easy enough to cup her warmly — easier still to wiggle his finger inside of her, testing the clutch and softness of her insides.]

That, I'll promise you.

[And what a promise! Given Henry's propensity to be quiet.]