( there’s a haste that begs to take hold of them, and while it’d be all too easy to straddle her into his lap, slip down those briefs and jeans of just enough to press into her, he’s still wearing far too much for her liking, but she hasn’t the mind to crawl off of him just yet. especially not when he soothes over those raw prints he’d left behind, flesh rouge and searing. groans are all the more vivid, dirtied and private now that he’s beside her, under her, against her, now that she can feel them claw at the hollow of his chest.
his admission rewards him with a breath of a mew, startled to a gasp as his palm strikes her again, one to each cheek—shoulder blades pinch together, crown tipping back to leave locks spilling over her spine, stolen for the moment at that heated lick of pain that runs through her. she’ll be sore tomorrow, there’s no denying it, and while she has an easy means of healing the abused area over, she just might enjoy feeling him every time she sits, like a lingering punishment. )
Someone deserves a reward for this, no? ( a huff of a reply while she gathers a steadier tone, unable to keep herself still against him, to keep from pressing against that pull of fabric, chasing any means of friction she can find whether she’s given body permission or not. a moan laces it’s way through pressed lips, left in a slight part. she’s not shy to drag the heart of her palm down further along his briefs, rubbing its heel along the line of him, thick and hard and all because of her. ) But I don’t think it matters. ‘Cause you need it.
( a daring grab of his cock through that cotton, dampened near the swell of his tip. ) Don’t you, cari?
no subject
his admission rewards him with a breath of a mew, startled to a gasp as his palm strikes her again, one to each cheek—shoulder blades pinch together, crown tipping back to leave locks spilling over her spine, stolen for the moment at that heated lick of pain that runs through her. she’ll be sore tomorrow, there’s no denying it, and while she has an easy means of healing the abused area over, she just might enjoy feeling him every time she sits, like a lingering punishment. )
Someone deserves a reward for this, no? ( a huff of a reply while she gathers a steadier tone, unable to keep herself still against him, to keep from pressing against that pull of fabric, chasing any means of friction she can find whether she’s given body permission or not. a moan laces it’s way through pressed lips, left in a slight part. she’s not shy to drag the heart of her palm down further along his briefs, rubbing its heel along the line of him, thick and hard and all because of her. ) But I don’t think it matters. ‘Cause you need it.
( a daring grab of his cock through that cotton, dampened near the swell of his tip. ) Don’t you, cari?