vecna | ☣️ midwestern mayhem inbox.

[Cozy is a good word for it. Cozy enough to have regained the warmth of her nearness, tangled up in each other again. Trying to be as close as possible and, in this case, maybe that manifests with Henry smushing his face right down into her cleavage as she suggests.

Nuzzling in, there’s nothing particularly dignified about letting his tongue loll out to drag it up between her breasts, but he’s going to do it, anyway. Her bosom is so generous that he can easily feel the way the ample fat of them cushion his cheekbones as he does so.]

Are you sore, then?

[Muffled, but still audible. Are your boobas sore from your period, he means.]

Some.

[ what's dignified about any sex? it only matters that it feels good to have him licking her, and the soft press of his face against her. as if... he belongs right there.

strokes his hair some more... ]

[He thinks about when his body was transformed female for a day, quietly grateful that he didn't have to experience what Sprezzatura is feeling right now. He doesn't say as much, lest it come across as patronizing, but as he trails his tongue back up and temporarily rests his chin on her chest, he says fondly-]

Let me tend to every single need you have, then, when you're aching.

[He doesn't mean just sex. He'd love the opportunity to spoil her.]

[ that's a kindness she hadn't expected from him. a consideration not many men and few other women have extended to her in particular. ]

I haven't many.

[That's an upside to having a boyfriend literally obsessed with his partner: he'd do anything for her! :) ]

Which just makes it easier for me to spoil you. It works out.

[Buries his face in her again, kisses along the curves of her breasts, where her cleavage forms.]

Right?

Mmmmhh... hmmmm.

[ starts toying with the hair at his nape next, feeling how it flows through her fingers. ]

[Tickly!

He keeps fondling, kissing, sucking, just wet noises as he gives her chest the attention it deserves — but not too vigorously.

As expected, it doesn’t take terribly long for his cock to stiffen to the same degree as before. No doubt she can feel it, quite obviously.]

[ how could it? look at where he is, what he's being permitted to do. but it must be so new to him, she thinks, and then laughs gently. after a lifetime in the lab to feel his body wanting in this way, this insistently, when before all he may have gotten was his hand on the occasion that he wasn't so furious with life that it would kill all desire.

she can do this to him. for him.

and so she slides one hand between them and takes him in her palm. a thrill in her belly. he feels warm and stiff and throbby. ]

Good.

[ rubs her thumb beneath the ridge of the head ]

That feels... good...

[She’s the only one who does this to him, the only one he cares to feel this way around. The emotional connection is there (indelible on his side, anyway), and so the physical one is sure to follow — in droves.

She makes it so easy, too, with a touch like that.

He’s mid-suck when she grasps ahold of his cock, throbbing and hard and its tip predictably sensitive, even when she’s hovering near it. It makes him gasp, makes him disconnect from her with a lewd, wet pop.]

And that feels good, too.

[Any attention to his cock, At this point, will feel heavenly.]

Does it?

[ always so honest. she likes that. likes knowing what to do, and finding out in time with him what he enjoys being done to him.

... though, every man likes his cock stroked. gently, gently. ]

Yes.

[Gently, but enough to get his heart racing, thudding hard in his ribs. Henry rests his forehead against her chest, breathing out with a smile on his face, and rolls his hips just so he can feel a bit of friction against her fingers.]

Makes me want to be inside of you.

[(Not that this sentiment ever really subsided.)]

[ to be connected.

every single inch of him slides through her fist. in fact, she begins jerking him off with vigour. ]

Better hurry up and getting inside me, hmmmm?

[With vigor… A-aah, he lifts his head and smooths his hand down between their bodies, fingers encircling her wrist.]

Hurry up or you’ll make me come with your hand first, you mean? Not so fast there.

[ she allows this with a small smile of her own. even if he's stopped her, she can still feel the deeper throb and his pulse and the slickness dripping from his slit between her fingers. that's fun. she likes him so much, despite the warning signs. ]

Hm?

[If red flag hot—

Arches a brow playfully.]

If you prefer for me to come all over your stomach instead…

[ she wants to say "if you come, you come", but the truth is she likes the idea too much of him finishing inside, in her real body this time. ]

Hm. Get oil, then.

[And he likes that idea, too.

The little bottle of oil—long forgotten and lost in the bedspread—floats up, hovering in their periphery. He removes his hand from her wrist and plucks it free mid-air.]

Always prepared.

[ the sight of it in his hand makes her stomach squirm. coils her tail around his middle and squeezes. ]

I could let you figure rest out yourself, if you like.

[He likes that feeling of her tail wrapped around him — a squeeze and a hug, in its own way.]

Oh, I can't imagine it's all that difficult.

[Teasing. The top pops off of the bottle, all the same.]

But you might need to unwind yourself from me first.

[ look at how quickly she unravels—warm in her cheeks. she's blushing. ]

Use very, very much. More than you would ever think needed.

[Look at how she flushes. The idea must really appeal. That excites him even more, to see her react that way.]

I’ll use so much that we’ll both be dripping before we even start. How does that sound?

[ LOOK AT THAT BLUSH GO ]

[CUTE AND SEXY]

Someone’s blushing again.

[ she places her hands upon his chest, simply holding there, her fingers spread and palms flush. to feel his heart. to feel his heat. for him to feel her own.

the fact that she is bleeding, sore, moody... it's almost forgotten. ]

I really like you.

[His heartbeat's practically a whole drumline in his chest, even more when she admits something like that. There's that complex tangle of emotions again, but with an impossibly deep fondness at the forefront this time.

A hand rises to cover one of hers, fingers half-entwined.]

And I really, really like you. What a pair we make.

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