[Her encouragement trends his hips forward. It's a slow and languorous grind, seeking friction as though to defy the growing strain in his trousers. The action makes him lean forward, the side of his face pressed against her warm bosom, one arm snaking up her back to keep him rooted there, if just temporarily.]
Mmn. [-is his only real reply at first. Fingers press into her back, the faintest sting of blunted nails. What now, indeed. The distraction of his pulsing groin would be so easy to direct all of his attention to, but he can sharpen his focus just enough to slip his other hand between her inner thigh, trailing up between her legs.]
no subject
Mmn. [-is his only real reply at first. Fingers press into her back, the faintest sting of blunted nails. What now, indeed. The distraction of his pulsing groin would be so easy to direct all of his attention to, but he can sharpen his focus just enough to slip his other hand between her inner thigh, trailing up between her legs.]
Might I return the favor?