[ it may be that her life has almost never been void of scandal, rumors swirling around about anything she may or may not have done — and some of it may have been the devil on her shoulder, prompting her to embrace whatever she's been accused of, but the rest had come with time and acceptance of who she is, much of it occurring here, where she knows she will be met with little judgment if she decides to pursue sex, intimacy with another.
and she would of course never presume they're going to go as far as fucking, but she certainly won't object to the path his hands take over skin beneath the fall of her skirts, the rounds of his nails scratching lightly over the expanse of her thigh and prompting another arch, a reflexive shiver beneath him, the desired effect as she voices a low moan that ends up stifled in that long, continuing kiss. for all the assurances shared between them, this does feel different somehow than anything she's ever experienced here — seeking, searching, gentle.
she returns the smile into the diminished space between their mouths, surging up to bring them together briefly before she lets her head tip back against the mattress, her hands already smoothing over the amount of skin she's bared on him for her own inspection, appreciation. he's lithe and warm beneath her palms, the light drag of her nails, and she rolls her hands along his shoulders to let his shirt catch on his knuckles so she can sweep it away from him altogether. ]
Dans un moment pareil? [ she punctuates the question with a nibble of his lower lip, a low chuckle. ] Plus tard, ma chéri.
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and she would of course never presume they're going to go as far as fucking, but she certainly won't object to the path his hands take over skin beneath the fall of her skirts, the rounds of his nails scratching lightly over the expanse of her thigh and prompting another arch, a reflexive shiver beneath him, the desired effect as she voices a low moan that ends up stifled in that long, continuing kiss. for all the assurances shared between them, this does feel different somehow than anything she's ever experienced here — seeking, searching, gentle.
she returns the smile into the diminished space between their mouths, surging up to bring them together briefly before she lets her head tip back against the mattress, her hands already smoothing over the amount of skin she's bared on him for her own inspection, appreciation. he's lithe and warm beneath her palms, the light drag of her nails, and she rolls her hands along his shoulders to let his shirt catch on his knuckles so she can sweep it away from him altogether. ]
Dans un moment pareil? [ she punctuates the question with a nibble of his lower lip, a low chuckle. ] Plus tard, ma chéri.