retroductions | reverie overflow.

[ his fingers will brush through the thinnest film of sweat; she is not unaffected by all this ]

That was what mirror was for.

[ sometimes. ]

Room is so cold after your mouth. Sore already?

[He is absolutely throbbing for stimulation, if that is her meaning. The air is bracing when they’re apart, seemingly to highlight this further — not that they are very much apart, now, limbs still twined against her.

But she had appeared to enjoy the slow, indulgent nature of it all. Who is he to deny her? It is not as though she’s twisting his arm to do any of this.

Another slow, drawn-out lick. The tip of tongue teases at her clit.]

Taking my time. Would you prefer otherwise?

[ drops her head back on her shoulders, ah ]

Mmmmno.

[ she rather thinks she likes having Sholmes kissing her cunt and speaking to her in dulcet tones. the noted lack of urgency seems to make every touch feel more pronounced—more the reward than the motivation itself. Sprezzatura squeezes his hand, nice and slow ]

I could stay like this...

Forever?

[He kisses again, the warm sensation of his mouth doled out with a questing tongue and lingering lips slick with her wetness. His hand squeezes hers back, while his other draws little, idle circles along her torso with callused fingertips.

He draws it out, nice and slow, indeed.]

[ echoing: ] Forever.

[ the stretching of the moment finally realizes a shift; gasping once, soft but sharp, her stomach clenches under his palm. the same languid motions he's been keeping up from the very start are suddenly and hellishly there—she can feel his lips and tongue moving, acutely, all her nerves catching fire.

Sholmes will be able to tell he's getting there not least of all from the way she tosses her head back and reaches up above her head to clench her fist in the sheets. soft sounds—but getting louder. ]

Oh, please.

[Her muscles tensing under her touch is the first easily notable thing, but the rest come just as evidently, from the way she fists at the sheets, to the gentle sounds she begins to make. He thinks to himself that forever may not last at this point, but he also does not think she would complain terribly, not the way things are going now — and so Sholmes hums a little noise of appreciation, of encouragement, as she writhes a little against him.

What was once slow and languid begins to hasten, so slight. His tongue laves against her with a steadily increasing tempo, warm and uninterrupted, his hand sliding back down to lightly brace at her hip; his other remains holding onto hers, that connection still ever-present.]

[ oh, it is warm. that minute shift in his tongue's frictional glide prompts Sprezzatura's first full moan—low, nearly purring—and she arches on the bed, pulls her knees up so she can splay herself more open for him. everywhere his mouth touches feels like it's throbbing, wet, all the way deep into muscle and fat. it's perfect.

she unfurls her tail from his side and tries to wriggle it beneath him, to belatedly tend to his untouched cock. ]

Herlock. [ s q u e e z i n g his hand ] Just like that, just like that. Don't be shy. Do feel how wet you've made me? It's all for you.

[ surprise! she's a talker. ]

[And he likes hearing it. Likes feeling her move and twitch under his tongue. He would have many pleasant things to say in return were his mouth not busy otherwise — just like that, she tells him, and he is wont to continue. The pace of is tongue increasing, steadily, her opening up wide for him, and—

Good god, her tail.

His cock twitches when her tail teases at him, so neglected that it is difficult for him not to hitch his breath against her cunt, moan deeply between her legs. He hardly needs any encouragement, if that is what she’s trying to give, but he will not complain if given any, either.

His hand squeezes hers in return, harder. It takes a fair amount of willpower not to just rut against her searching tail.]

[ Sholmes doesn't need to rut, because she has every intention of doing it for him. even her tail is unbelievably warm--a sinuous heat that ripples around him. it is never too tight or too hard; whatever experience she has, she's putting it to use now.

she hopes he likes it. she wants him to feel as tortured as she does. ]

Like hot iron in my tail, you. Ahh-- [ dissolving into a shaky moan as he licks at her ] There, there, there, don't go any faster.

[ despite the imperious nature of her demands, she's smiling and flush and her fingers tremble between his. releasing her clench in the sheets to cup her own breast, toy with the nipple, ah ]

Let me hear you...

[She's doing well to torture him. Her snaking tail is impossibly warm and writhing around his cock in just the right way, a reward for the continuous ministrations of his tongue without threatening to push him right over the edge. Oh, yes, he has quite decided that he likes her tail. Who would have known?

He drinks deep, laves his tongue flat against her clit at the same rhythm as directed, and moans in time with her stroking. A little louder, a little louder; she may as well feel the vibrations from his own pleasure, a nice little side effect to bolster her own.]

[ everyone likes a tiefling's tail when they're in the bedroom with one. after all, they're exceptionally clever with it. about as clever as he is being with his mouth. he has her biting her lip and tossing her head, lashes fluttery and heavy and her voice gone jagged when she answers his moaning. like this, he works her right up to the thinnest edge—

and her voice breaks around a blissful, indulgent sigh as orgasm finally takes her. slow and warm, to start, and only gaining momentum as she goes. her body quivers hard, hips bucking, so he might want to brace her or risk a damaged nose. ]

reverie overflow.

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