[He hears her whisper his name and looks up to check her expression, making sure this is okay and that his intentions are known, shy and unsure as he is so often when new things crop up between them. He has to pause out of surprise when he focuses on her, though, finding that warm, heated look in her eyes, visibly aroused and urging more. The way she calls his name, her expression, the squeeze of his shoulder- he needs no further encouragement.]
I don't know what I'm doing...
[It's a murmured warning, but not a protest or refusal; his next step is to tilt his head down again and drag his tongue between her legs, experimental but eager to try for her. He's used his mouth to explore much of her body already, he's done this with his fingers, and more significantly, she's done this for him, and it had felt incredible. She deserves that feeling, too, and to be served, pleasured and allowed to lay back, relax, and watch. She gives and gives and gives and never asks for much of anything. It's his turn to remind her that she should get everything she gives and more.
The taste of her is strange but not his focus, repeating the gesture, pressing against her folds while listening for the noises she makes, attentive to the hand on his body and the sound of her voice. He's clumsy but he learns fast, leaning in close for each lingering stroke, his hands tracing over her hips to better feel when her body arches and moves against him. Just listening to her makes his pants uncomfortably tighter, still not fully freed from their confines, but he's determined not to pay any attention to his own needs until hers are met.]
no subject
I don't know what I'm doing...
[It's a murmured warning, but not a protest or refusal; his next step is to tilt his head down again and drag his tongue between her legs, experimental but eager to try for her. He's used his mouth to explore much of her body already, he's done this with his fingers, and more significantly, she's done this for him, and it had felt incredible. She deserves that feeling, too, and to be served, pleasured and allowed to lay back, relax, and watch. She gives and gives and gives and never asks for much of anything. It's his turn to remind her that she should get everything she gives and more.
The taste of her is strange but not his focus, repeating the gesture, pressing against her folds while listening for the noises she makes, attentive to the hand on his body and the sound of her voice. He's clumsy but he learns fast, leaning in close for each lingering stroke, his hands tracing over her hips to better feel when her body arches and moves against him. Just listening to her makes his pants uncomfortably tighter, still not fully freed from their confines, but he's determined not to pay any attention to his own needs until hers are met.]