Just him rolling her over, with such precision that not even her hair mussed up got caught under any moving limbs, made Amber shiver with pleasure. Yes. He was keeping the pace. Going slow. This was safe. She kissed him back, fully, tasting as much as she could from those lips while she still could, before they kissed her elsewhere.
"Yeah," Amber whispered. "Okay." He wanted to hear her. She could tell him. What she wanted, what she needed. That'd feel good. She'd be in his hands (mouth). She was trusting him, and from their time at the desk, when he'd understood her wordless pleas as clearly as if she'd written them out, she believed he'd do the same now. Trusted him to pick up on her cues. She was in his care. But if she could tell him, that was one more comfort, one more reason for her to relax, to preemptively spread herself. "Make me feel good, Eric," she said just as softly, caressing his collar bone and shoulders before he slipped out of reach.
As he settled between her legs, Amber tore her sweat-damp sweater off. It had long since become greater than a nuisance; her breasts swayed with the motion, freed. Her nose was clearing up, and she could just pick up the scent of sex-- it'd be overwhelming under normal circumstances.
Her tummy quivered as he kissed her there, a new rush of arousal lighting up her pussy. God, how did he do this to her. How was he so amazing. Amber squirmed, panting, as Eric touched her, always guessing right, making her rigorously aware of forgotten body parts. The tingling spread everywhere, like ink in a glass of water, bringing pleasure to her quads, to her hamstrings. "Yeah. Yeah, like that," Amber said, still quiet. She curved her hands around his head, fingertips brushing against the pinpricks of buzzed hair; wanted to let him feel how good she felt.
Her abdomen clenched as he lowered again, in anticipation, in sudden worry. What if this was like last time. She hadn't predicted hurting like that. Amber forgot to take in air as she waited for his next action, for her reaction to it. But all she felt, his breath moist on where she felt so sensitive, was a desire for more. She whined, hoping Eric wouldn't stop there, or lag for long. And he didn't. Amber threw her head back, moaning, arching up, digging her elbows into the mattress. But-- she gasped. "Not yet," she said, pushing down away from his tongue. "Lower," she tried to explain, letting him know that she still wanted this, and how. She hoped the moment hadn't been ruined, that they could build on this. "My entrance, inside--"
no subject
"Yeah," Amber whispered. "Okay." He wanted to hear her. She could tell him. What she wanted, what she needed. That'd feel good. She'd be in his hands (mouth). She was trusting him, and from their time at the desk, when he'd understood her wordless pleas as clearly as if she'd written them out, she believed he'd do the same now. Trusted him to pick up on her cues. She was in his care. But if she could tell him, that was one more comfort, one more reason for her to relax, to preemptively spread herself. "Make me feel good, Eric," she said just as softly, caressing his collar bone and shoulders before he slipped out of reach.
As he settled between her legs, Amber tore her sweat-damp sweater off. It had long since become greater than a nuisance; her breasts swayed with the motion, freed. Her nose was clearing up, and she could just pick up the scent of sex-- it'd be overwhelming under normal circumstances.
Her tummy quivered as he kissed her there, a new rush of arousal lighting up her pussy. God, how did he do this to her. How was he so amazing. Amber squirmed, panting, as Eric touched her, always guessing right, making her rigorously aware of forgotten body parts. The tingling spread everywhere, like ink in a glass of water, bringing pleasure to her quads, to her hamstrings. "Yeah. Yeah, like that," Amber said, still quiet. She curved her hands around his head, fingertips brushing against the pinpricks of buzzed hair; wanted to let him feel how good she felt.
Her abdomen clenched as he lowered again, in anticipation, in sudden worry. What if this was like last time. She hadn't predicted hurting like that. Amber forgot to take in air as she waited for his next action, for her reaction to it. But all she felt, his breath moist on where she felt so sensitive, was a desire for more. She whined, hoping Eric wouldn't stop there, or lag for long. And he didn't. Amber threw her head back, moaning, arching up, digging her elbows into the mattress. But-- she gasped. "Not yet," she said, pushing down away from his tongue. "Lower," she tried to explain, letting him know that she still wanted this, and how. She hoped the moment hadn't been ruined, that they could build on this. "My entrance, inside--"