[That tail of hers... It occurs to him that, someday, he should ask if she's interested in making him come with her tail only. He's sure she can, with how much of a tease she can be with it, the little tug at his balls the equivalent of a heated jolt.]
And here I thought I should take my time.
[He makes a show of it, too: dipping the bottle into his palm, pouring a generous, slick amount. Watching every curve of her body beneath him.]
[ she could. she would. she'd love it. there is power in being able to bring someone off in that way, and pleasure in being trusted to. another tug, and another, as with a fondling hand.
though... she falters slightly when he pours the oil. the act becomes real; Henry's face tipped down, his eyes downcast and heavy-lashed and pretty, his lips, the gleaming stream of oil filling his palm. t-tug. oh... ]
[Keeping his focus on his hand and the oil so that it doesn't dribble out the sides of his palm is difficult when she's touching him like that with her tail. Yes, he will have to ask that of her sometime. Maybe soon. To come when her tail is rippling around him, hugged tight around his cock...
But for now, he can regain a bit of his concentration when she falters, chuckling softly, and the bottle straightens with his powers; remains floating there with no more than a thought. He tilts his palm down, and the oil slowly sluices down long, pale fingers. A small excess drips one or two drops onto her thigh.]
Well. I want to make this last.
[Up until the point where he won't care about anything else except for fucking her, but he can enjoy the journey up until that point.
His powers urge her thighs to open wider; a single, slick fingertip drifts down and taps at her hole.]
Edited (MAYBE HE'S INTO THAT JAY!!!) 2024-10-07 18:14 (UTC)
[ a tap that makes her jump, her thighs and breasts bounce, and her lips to part in an "o" of surprise... and guilty pleasure. Henry is so simple to expose to new things; if she asks, she gets. he doesn't shy away. ]
Ah.
[ she feels slick on slick; blood mingles with oil. with a little effort, she pulls her knees higher. let him see. let him take his time.
her eyes are affixed to his face, though they do dart down to try to see the shine of light on his wettened fingers. ]
[Henry’s so receptive of her, and yet here he thinks she’s so reactionary, in a way that only makes him want to do more, more, whatever she likes. It seems to have worked for them so far.
She pulls her thighs back, granting him to clearance to look, to really look, to see where she glints with just a touch of oil and the darker shade of her blood. What a sight, one that makes him gnaw a bit on his lower lip. He uses that same finger to rub a small circle around her hole, watching the obscene way in which he makes it shine even more.
It’s a view to drink in, to commit to memory in the filing cabinet of Lewd Things he has already collected with her, but of course his eyes are eventually drawn to her expression. To the flush creeping up from beneath her skin.]
[ he glances at her, and that's it. she can look nowhere else, even as his finger gently works her muscle relaxed again, a little circle without pushing in. feels... nice...
and she likes knowing that he likes it. ]
Just like this, yes. Slip in so easily. I should have done this with you when your body was changed, too. I wanted to.
[ LAUGHS—turning into a soft gasp. it's still a snug fit, even with her relaxing; a tight, warm, slippery hug. all at once the hunger relights in her, and she wants more, and deeper, and bigger, and her heart begins to pound again. ]
Oh, you are having no idea how true what it is you say.
[ pictures: Henry curled against her, flushed and beautiful. how he would spill and spill and spill. she wriggles. perhaps that's ill-advised right now. ]
[What's so funny, huh! She's tight and snug, despite the generous amount of oil he had slicked across his fingers, but moreover? When she wriggles, his finger eases in deeper — still a slow entry, though, moving only past his middle knuckle. For now.]
No? Would it be even better than I can make you feel?
[ deeper, deeper. snug but not frictional, only an easy glide—Sprezzatura's spine straightening out the closer he gets to hilting at the knuckle. the space between her thighs feels hotter than ever. her cheeks feel hotter than ever.
Mammon, but she wants to make him feel good. has she ever felt that this keenly before? dark eyes search his face, heart hammering, blush deepening, tail tugging him in forgetful pulses. nothing. nothing. then a long, slow, constricting pull. nothing again. ]
Just like this.
[ he's almost there. she alights her hand on his wrist. ]
[Funny how their thoughts reflect each other. He was just thinking about how radiant she is like this, folded beneath him, patches of deep blue flushed across her skin, all amid the slow and steady way he slots a finger inside of her. It's just a single digit—almost all the way in, but not quite—and yet look at how it makes her straighten and her tail tug and her breasts sway from even the smallest shift and movement.
God. If this weren't a process that had to be taken slowly to start, he'd want to just fuck her right now.]
Not as pretty as you.
[A smile that pairs strangely with dark, seeking eyes; deeper, deeper, only to finally halt at the knuckle.]
[ lucky for them both that she has a fondness for the strangeness that is Henry Creel; that soft voice and soft smile, hiding fangs. there is a viper inside him, and she's seen what it can do. but when he's touching her like this it becomes much, much harder to care.
instead, she brushes her finger up and down against his wrist. her rim pulses hotly around his finger. the emotional feeling has her smiling back, equally strange. Sprezzatura drops her head back on the sheets and almost leers at him from beneath her lashes. ]
Do you like it? It is not just everyone I let inside like this...
[ then she jolts and giggles, that razor blade giggle of a woman whose voice does not suit the sound. encircles his wrist again, both hands this time, and the act of reaching down like that presses her breasts together prettily. that's on purpose. ]
[Henry repeats it, slipping once more into his broken Russian. Though the fact that her breasts have very much earned his attention, pressed together as they are, gives the slightly comedic effect of him saying this to her chest, but. She understands the sentiment, surely.]
The most beautiful woman I have ever seen, or will ever see.
[ he is so easy! now it really is a leer. she will continue in Rashemi, for all its differences still close enough to get the point across. though Henry may not be able to follow all of it, she does thrill at the idea of dirty talking to him in a language he can only half-understand. ]
Most beautiful woman or most beautiful breasts? [ both can be true. ] They are perfect size and shape for those plush and pretty lips of yours.
[ it would feel nice to... touch herself. she brings her fingers up from his wrist and toys them through slick pubic hair and the soft wet of her folds. slips her middle and ring finger gently inside her cunt and wiggles them, too. he'll be able to feel it through her walls. ]
[He is incredibly easy when it comes to drinking in the shape of her everything, and it's nothing short of a miracle that his brain can manage to parse even half of that Rashemi at all. Henry can pull enough context clues out to know that she isn't saying anything particularly pure and innocent, at least.
Still, in his terrible Russian-] I'd kiss you there now if I could.
[But her fingers have wandered down to slip into her cunt, an obscenely wet and easy entrance, and he can feel the movement against his own finger. Henry's heart feels as though it beats all the way up his throat; it makes sense, that he would feel it, but he never realized that he could. Would. Why would have he given it any thought until this exact moment in time?]
But I'm busy.
[Fingering her. And teasing the entry of a second digit, the pad of his ring finger pushing in, testing how receptive she is to the suggestion.]
[ a few gentle wiggles, to impart to him just how thin that wall is, how much she feels, how much he would have felt if it had been him she'd done this to. in slow, idle motions, she bounces her ankles up and down on the backs of her thighs, the picture of irreverence... and when he uncurls his ring finger and teases at her rim, her mouth falls open again. ]
[He's becoming very aware of how little there is to divide his fingers from hers, making his mind wander to particularly obscene places. Would she be able to take his cock in one hole, and something just as penetrative in the other? psl verse says yes Maybe they can test that sometime, if she's feeling particularly bold.
His ring finger presses, teases at slipping in, but if she has an idea then he wants to hear it first.
Turn and kneel by me here. [ she pats the bed by her shoulder. ] Let me put fingers in you while you are putting fingers in me. I lay my cheek on your thigh. Hm?
[ placing a lot of faith in her own body's flexibility, but the thing is. it's not impossible. ]
[O-oh. Looks up at where she indicates, then back down at her. Arranging themselves just so they can finger each other; if that's not dedication to getting each other off, then he doesn't know what is.
But of course he must ask...] Would that be comfortable for you?
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she pulls her thighs back, lets her tail drape for a moment longer before slithering away down between his legs. lil tug on his balls. ]
I would like if we two became one soon.
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And here I thought I should take my time.
[He makes a show of it, too: dipping the bottle into his palm, pouring a generous, slick amount. Watching every curve of her body beneath him.]
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though... she falters slightly when he pours the oil. the act becomes real; Henry's face tipped down, his eyes downcast and heavy-lashed and pretty, his lips, the gleaming stream of oil filling his palm. t-tug. oh... ]
Well.
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But for now, he can regain a bit of his concentration when she falters, chuckling softly, and the bottle straightens with his powers; remains floating there with no more than a thought. He tilts his palm down, and the oil slowly sluices down long, pale fingers. A small excess drips one or two drops onto her thigh.]
Well. I want to make this last.
[Up until the point where he won't care about anything else except for fucking her, but he can enjoy the journey up until that point.
His powers urge her thighs to open wider; a single, slick fingertip drifts down and taps at her hole.]
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Ah.
[ she feels slick on slick; blood mingles with oil. with a little effort, she pulls her knees higher. let him see. let him take his time.
her eyes are affixed to his face, though they do dart down to try to see the shine of light on his wettened fingers. ]
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She pulls her thighs back, granting him to clearance to look, to really look, to see where she glints with just a touch of oil and the darker shade of her blood. What a sight, one that makes him gnaw a bit on his lower lip. He uses that same finger to rub a small circle around her hole, watching the obscene way in which he makes it shine even more.
It’s a view to drink in, to commit to memory in the filing cabinet of Lewd Things he has already collected with her, but of course his eyes are eventually drawn to her expression. To the flush creeping up from beneath her skin.]
So you tell me if I’m not being gentle enough.
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and she likes knowing that he likes it. ]
Just like this, yes. Slip in so easily. I should have done this with you when your body was changed, too. I wanted to.
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Henry thinks, even just at the surface level, he can feel her relax bit by bit. His finger continues massaging a little circle.]
You can still do it with this body sometime.
[And finally, a subtle press, to slip inside so, so slowly.]
It'd still make me feel amazing.
[Surely.]
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Oh, you are having no idea how true what it is you say.
[ pictures: Henry curled against her, flushed and beautiful. how he would spill and spill and spill. she wriggles. perhaps that's ill-advised right now. ]
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No? Would it be even better than I can make you feel?
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I can always make you feel better.
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Is that right? Then I look forward to it. Your fingers slowly slipping inside of me, filling me up.
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Mammon, but she wants to make him feel good. has she ever felt that this keenly before? dark eyes search his face, heart hammering, blush deepening, tail tugging him in forgetful pulses. nothing. nothing. then a long, slow, constricting pull. nothing again. ]
Just like this.
[ he's almost there. she alights her hand on his wrist. ]
Oh, pretty man—
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God. If this weren't a process that had to be taken slowly to start, he'd want to just fuck her right now.]
Not as pretty as you.
[A smile that pairs strangely with dark, seeking eyes; deeper, deeper, only to finally halt at the knuckle.]
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instead, she brushes her finger up and down against his wrist. her rim pulses hotly around his finger. the emotional feeling has her smiling back, equally strange. Sprezzatura drops her head back on the sheets and almost leers at him from beneath her lashes. ]
Do you like it? It is not just everyone I let inside like this...
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No? Does that mean I’m exceptionally special, lyubimiy?
[All the way in… what if he wiggles his finger just a wee bit.]
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Lyubimaya.
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[Henry repeats it, slipping once more into his broken Russian. Though the fact that her breasts have very much earned his attention, pressed together as they are, gives the slightly comedic effect of him saying this to her chest, but. She understands the sentiment, surely.]
The most beautiful woman I have ever seen, or will ever see.
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Most beautiful woman or most beautiful breasts? [ both can be true. ] They are perfect size and shape for those plush and pretty lips of yours.
[ it would feel nice to... touch herself. she brings her fingers up from his wrist and toys them through slick pubic hair and the soft wet of her folds. slips her middle and ring finger gently inside her cunt and wiggles them, too. he'll be able to feel it through her walls. ]
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Still, in his terrible Russian-] I'd kiss you there now if I could.
[But her fingers have wandered down to slip into her cunt, an obscenely wet and easy entrance, and he can feel the movement against his own finger. Henry's heart feels as though it beats all the way up his throat; it makes sense, that he would feel it, but he never realized that he could. Would. Why would have he given it any thought until this exact moment in time?]
But I'm busy.
[Fingering her. And teasing the entry of a second digit, the pad of his ring finger pushing in, testing how receptive she is to the suggestion.]
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Hhah. You are eager. I have idea...
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psl verse says yesMaybe they can test that sometime, if she's feeling particularly bold.His ring finger presses, teases at slipping in, but if she has an idea then he wants to hear it first.
English again:]
Oh? What?
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Turn and kneel by me here. [ she pats the bed by her shoulder. ] Let me put fingers in you while you are putting fingers in me. I lay my cheek on your thigh. Hm?
[ placing a lot of faith in her own body's flexibility, but the thing is. it's not impossible. ]
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But of course he must ask...] Would that be comfortable for you?
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