[He shudders as she grinds up against him, eyes clenching shut for a moment, that same thrill running right up his spine. He braces his weight upright with one hand, arching his body to return the gesture, sliding his hardness against her without delving inside; with the other hand he reaches back and shoves gracelessly at his trousers. They're still hanging off his hips and he wants his movement free, unimpeded by something as mundane as pants.]
Me too, [he murmurs, his head bending to catch her lips with his own, his kiss urgent and deep during the rushed handful of seconds that it takes to get his pants down and out of the way, legs sliding up towards her and away from the fabric so he can settle himself free and naked between her thighs. He wants her, gods, does he ever. One more press of his weight on her, feeling the wetness of her renewed arousal on his bare skin, and with a whisper of her name he aligns himself and sinks into her at last.
His breath stutters as her warmth envelopes him, taking a moment to let them both adjust, his head resting on her forehead, just breathing in the scent of her, the sweat of sex and whatever soaps she'd used before they left the house. He loves this moment, the pause between, the calm before the storm, the way he's still enough to feel the pulse that lies between them, his heartbeat and the rich heat of her sex as muscles contract around him to welcome him in. Before long he's moving, though, the song and dance he knows well by now, held up on either side of her as his hips grind in, out, loathe to leave her and just as glad to find her sweet center over and over. He bends to kiss her again, groaning as the familiar build of his own heat joins with hers. She feels wonderful, the way her body draws him in with every thrust, wanting him as she said she does, their limbs entangled. The more they move together, his speed starts to pick up, chasing that beautiful high, wanting desperately to push her over the edge one more time so he can see those stars go off in her eyes.]
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Me too, [he murmurs, his head bending to catch her lips with his own, his kiss urgent and deep during the rushed handful of seconds that it takes to get his pants down and out of the way, legs sliding up towards her and away from the fabric so he can settle himself free and naked between her thighs. He wants her, gods, does he ever. One more press of his weight on her, feeling the wetness of her renewed arousal on his bare skin, and with a whisper of her name he aligns himself and sinks into her at last.
His breath stutters as her warmth envelopes him, taking a moment to let them both adjust, his head resting on her forehead, just breathing in the scent of her, the sweat of sex and whatever soaps she'd used before they left the house. He loves this moment, the pause between, the calm before the storm, the way he's still enough to feel the pulse that lies between them, his heartbeat and the rich heat of her sex as muscles contract around him to welcome him in. Before long he's moving, though, the song and dance he knows well by now, held up on either side of her as his hips grind in, out, loathe to leave her and just as glad to find her sweet center over and over. He bends to kiss her again, groaning as the familiar build of his own heat joins with hers. She feels wonderful, the way her body draws him in with every thrust, wanting him as she said she does, their limbs entangled. The more they move together, his speed starts to pick up, chasing that beautiful high, wanting desperately to push her over the edge one more time so he can see those stars go off in her eyes.]