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[Helplessly, he hesitates. Just for a moment, just long enough to remember the last time. She'd asked, he'd been unable to muster the courage, and that had been the end of it. She'd never pushed, never forced it. She didn't judge. And now, with that look in her eyes, like there's a fire in them, like her flames have spread and she's hungry for more? It's like nothing he's seen before, and he doesn't want to smother it. He's not big and brawny or covered in cool tattoos, but for her...]

...I don't mind.

[No more hesitating. Instead of waiting for her he shifts his arms to prop himself up away from the mattress, giving her room to pull the fabric free.]

[ The initial hesitation has her pause, but when he props himself upward on his own, she's reassured to continue. Gingerly and slowly, Pyra lifts his shirt over his head. It's discarded to the side, all but forgotten as she's finally able to look upon the perfection of him without a shirt. And without fabric to impede her touch once more trailing up his abdomen to his shoulder, giving him a small nudge to lie back down. ] Mm... Noct?

[ He seems just a bit uncomfortable. She wants to reassure him that all of him is as she adores. So-- without delay-- she reaches for one of his hands, guiding it up to her lips to kiss him upon the back of his fingers. ] ...You're perfect.

[ And he truly is: lean and muscular in all the right ways, not too much, not too little. If she hadn't known him, she would have guessed him to be some sort of athlete. A runner, a swimmer, or something of the sort, one whose likeness could be chiseled in marble.

Of course, she won't leave him wanting or the only one partially undressed, especially if he'd be more at ease. Quietly, she then takes his hand and guides it down the center of her neck, around her crystal, and then between her breasts, trailing down her midline. As if he's pulling down a zipper, the construct of her top begins to dissolve into particles around them, fading from existence, leaving her exposed to him. She's blushing, but not uncomfortable. She wants to be like this to him. She wants to show him herself, too.

Releasing his hand, she repositions herself to be beside his head, lowering herself to him so that their lips brush. ] Now...

This time, let me do all the work, okay?

[Perfect... he likes that, as evidenced by the swift spread of flushing red across his cheeks, and the broadening smile on his lips. The idea of his body being good enough had been something he'd struggled with for a while, nevermind something as high as perfect. Even if it's just what she believes, the warmth her words give to him spreads down his body, enhanced by every touch of her fingers.

His eyes follow their hands as she guides him to move across her chest, and his blush intensifies wildly as together they remove her clothing and bare her breasts to him. His breath catches, because- she's beautiful, all of her, and she's sharing herself with him the same way. On one hand he knows it ought to feel like this is an evened playing field, but on the other hand that's perfection, in his mind. Doesn't feel like an even trade at all. He's trying not to stare, and it's merciful that she'd moved in to kiss him instead, drawing his attention back to her properly. Right- right. They were. Kissing. She was kissing all over.

....

She just showed him her boobs-]

R-right... I'm in your hands.

[Holy shit.]

[ Perhaps another time she might bask in his gaze, but she likes this more: feeling him beneath her, kissing him, knowing that she has all of his attention. Lowering herself to him, her breasts brush along his chest, cushioning her to him as she feels a brief prickle of excitement at the friction generated with their breaths...

She begins with his lips, just as before, only then for her kisses to trail along his jaw to the side of his neck, picking up where she left off. She lingers there, nursing just beneath his pulse upon the wide muscle of his neck, the spots where she had marked him last time. She's persistent, sensual, as she suckles upon the places where she knows him to be sensitive. Her lips apply pressure then suction, over and over, rediscovering whatever sounds he might make for her. Her hand drifts down his chest along his abdomen, feeling over his muscles.

Making room for herself, her legs shift over his, one moving to be between his and lifting to rub gently at where his meet with a thigh. A persistent but lightly rubbing touch is all she does for now, as if gauging just how sensitive he might be to her. ]

[He groans faintly as she rubs her body against his, closing his eyes and for a long moment just feeling her like that in the dark, focusing on the sensation of lips on skin, fingertips on bare flesh. When her leg rubs between his, she'll find him hardening under the fabric of his pants, clearly more eager and ready for her ministrations this time around. His hands tense against her, one gliding from hip to side to back in tracing circles, the other rising to sift through her hair, seeking each texture like he'd never felt it before. She's always had more bare skin than him by nature of what she wears, but- well, it's new, touching her in a different context. It's been months since they were platonic but to be properly unclothed is a unique experience all its own. And they're only halfway... he shudders, his uncertainty swiftly being overtaken by eagerness.]

I'm gonna lose count...

[Ten moves? She must've given him that many kisses already, but he makes no attempt whatsoever to stop her.]

[ He's counting. He speaking. That's two signs that indicate that what she's doing isn't good enough to distract, to really lose himself in what she wants to give him. It's difficult for her too, though, there are places upon his neck, his collarbone, his sternum and chest, that she wishes to linger upon because she loves all of these parts of him she's finally allowed to see and touch and kiss and mark. He's warm and muscular and, at her thigh, responsive to her touch. The quiet moan he gives causes a shiver of heat to pass through her, a sound that's only for her to hear, and the privateness of it causes her blush only to intensify.

So, she gives more. She moves against his hips more, she applies more pressure with her lips upon his skin more, she touches more, hands descending upon his waist and hips to tug at the drawstring of his pants, loosening it, all because she wants to hear more from him.

Following with her mouth, Pyra descends down his body with a series of wanton kisses until finally she's positioned above his groin. Her hand curves inward and beneath the hem of his pants, cupping him with a gentle but teasing pressure, slowly feeling out the fullness to him, drawing out his shape with her fingers, wanting to feel his thickness, his girth and his length, before she sees for herself. Her eyes flit up to him, watching his expression, how he responds, how he looks, how he moves.

This too. She wants to kiss here, too. And when he's ready, she will. ]

[Well, he was pretending to count at first, but he sure as hell isn't now. The further down she wanders, the less coherent he becomes, and by the time she reaches his groin he can only pant, eyes clenching, his fingers twisting in the fabric of the bed now that she's out of his reach. As she feels up his most intimate parts his breath catches on a low moan, his body growing increasingly responsive beneath her touch, and he manages to prop himself up on his elbows to watch her, eyes fighting between heavy-lidded pleasure and surprise. She really... wait, is she really...]

Pyra... [He's already so sensitive to her touch, his pulse quickening in anticipation.] A... are you sure?

[Far from a refusal, he's not unwilling- only astonished that she is.]

[ She loves seeing him like this, being slowly undone by her touches and kisses and movements, squirming as if he doesn't know what else to do with himself-- and allowing her to take the lead. This is him trusting her completely, allowing her to be privy to this side of him, and damn if it doesn't cause more warmth to spread across her own body, the energy within her fluttering excitedly.

She blushes at his question. ] V-very sure. [ She could leave it at that, but instead she volunteers more, her gaze lowering down his body. ] Since-we-rode-in-the-car-together- sure.

[ Despite admitting this, she's smiling and already shimmying down his pants and undergarment, hoping that he might find some relief that comes with being unconstrained by cloth. There's a part of her that feels bashful about being so bold, but that part is largely outdone by the part that wants to blow his mind (and blow him), wanting to give him the best experience she can. It's vain of her, but she wants him to remember this-- that she's the one who's going to do this.

Taking his length into his hand, she pumps him slowly as she positions him, dipping her head to kiss him just upon the tip as if testing the sensitivity of him with meager pressure. Her eyes flit up to him as she wets her lips with a flick of her tongue, then down, and after what seems like a small delay, she takes him into her mouth... and sucks upon him. ]

[Since then? He shouldn't be surprised - she'd clearly been momentarily conflicted about how things ended that day - but still, to wait that long...

He licks his lips and watches, panting for breath, as she exposes him and begins to do some incredible magic with her fingers. He doesn't even have time to be embarrassed about being mostly naked, she's just so- so shameless about it, like it doesn't bother her in the slightest. What cause does he have to be shamed then, if they both want it, if she's eager to do this for him? Anyway, he'd given blanket permission to-

-ah. There goes every thought in his brain, as she takes him in her mouth for the first time, a low and helpless moan escaping his lips, uttering a curse immediately after. His legs bend a little beneath her, toes curling into the sheets, growing even harder still in that wet and welcome heat. He can barely stay upright to witness what she's doing, slumped halfway back towards the pillow behind him. His expression says it all: it feels amazing, like nothing he's ever experienced or imagined before.]

[ It's unfair how in love with him she is, so much that she believes that even this is not enough because there couldn't ever be enough words or actions that could convey how she feels. But at least with this, with this, she can give him something-- a service for him, only him, from her, for his eyes and pleasure only...

Pyra raises a hand to correct the loosened strands of her cropped hair to behind her ear while her other holds him at his base. Her eyes flutter shut as she dips and bobs over and over, wetting the entire length of him with lips and tongue and suction. She's not sure which part of him he likes best to be favored, but she's trying desperately to find it and elicit more of those moans, the moans that cause her to blush all the way up to the tips of her ears.

She's into it. She's enjoying it, too, doing this for him, listening to him, feeling how the bed shifts with his legs moving and how he sinks against the mattress, making small, pleased and satisfied noises through her nose and mouth when it seems like he's responding just as she wants him to. When's the last time he ever had something like this done, she wonders-- perhaps never. Then, when was the last time he satisfied himself, or imagined it? She wants to outdo all of that, any of those other times, with just her lips alone, picking up the ante as she continues. ]

[It's a war between his sudden, desperate need for relief as she pushes him higher and higher towards what he knows instinctively will be an overwhelming rush of pleasure, and his half-buried desire to not hurt her with too much eagerness. His hips lift to meet her mouth as she slides him in and out, simulating the thrusting motion that his body longs for. Through lidded eyes he can see her move, how beautiful she looks, with wet lips turning red from her hungry ministrations, a pleased look on her face. Something about the eagerness in her eyes only serves to turn him on more, and he bites his lip, trying to keep the noise down and failing miserably. How could he possibly stay quiet, when she keeps catching him unaware with her tongue pressing against spots he never realized could be so sensitive, with her throat coaxing from his body a few dribbles of his pleasure as he builds towards completion- is built, swiftly and steadily, by her. He can barely perceive the noises he's making, only that he's fairly sure they've never been coaxed from him before.

He can feel that blessed end, thirsts for it, and it won't take him long to release at last if she takes him all the way, crying out with a stuttered mess of her name and dropping practically boneless in the throes of pleasure.]

[ It's obvious when he experiences that rush of pleasure, from the way his body tenses to the way it gives, the provocative way in which he says her name. She takes him to completion and takes in his release with a swallow, bringing up a finger to wipe at excess white at the corner of her lips. Some of his essence escapes her, but... she doesn't mind the mess that remains. Sheets can be cleaned, a shower can be taken, but it's only here and now that she might cuddle alongside him without another care.

Did she do well, she wonders. Is this enough.

She adores the way he looks right now. So content, so spent. She likes being able to do this to him, to have him be so undone. She equally enjoys being the one to give him this. ]

....Still perfect. [ She whispers this to him when she's settled next to him. Yes, even while he's rumpled and sweaty. She adores him like this, too. ]

Edited (wait she p much said that before ) 2020-09-11 00:54 (UTC)

[For a long moment he can only lay there helplessly, his heart pounding like a hammer, trying to regain control of his breath. His eyes follow her as she shifts upwards to lay beside him - he shivers as her body brushes against his - unable to stop looking at her with astonished wonder. This feeling, this rush of adrenaline and pleasure still thrumming through his body, this satisfaction... it's all her. She did this.

Perfect, she says- and while he's never as sure as her of that, he sure does feel amazing, more than words could accurately describe. He hopes it shows on his expression for her. He's not even trying to mask how he's feeling like he usually does.]

You're perfect. That felt... uhh, incredible? Holy... [He blinks.] What about you?

[She'd asked much the same of him, when their roles were last reversed, when he hadn't been ready for more. Things are a little different this time around.]

[ She cuddles against his side, one arm draping over his chest while her ankle curves around his calf, pressing her breasts to him.

What about her? She's feeling quite satisfied at finally having given him the same pleasure he had to her. She had been waiting to take him there, and the content look on his face isn't something she's likely to forget. That, and there's an undeniable arousal on her part, tender and warm and wet between her legs, her body sensitive against him. A pleasant thrumming of static pulses through her.

But if she were to put it in one word: ] Good.

[ Okay, too words: ] And h...hot.

[ She blushes. ] I loved... seeing you enjoy yourself. [ Moreso knowing he was enjoying all of it. ]

[They're both still topless, and his eyes are drawn lower as she presses against him, his cheeks flushed from the leftover pleasure she'd given to him. Hot... and she loved it. He wonders if it's really enough, to be satisfied alone when the last time she'd been so eager and sensitive, just because he'd given her that same pleasure alone last time. He's trying to get away from the habit of payback, of trading gifts and indulgences when more than anything else they both deserve to be happy. He's happy when she feels good. She clearly thinks the same way.

Shifting his position a little, careful to avoid jostling her, he slides his arm underneath her and folds her closer to himself, fingers stroking listlessly through her hair and along the back and sides of her neck, tips teasing around where she'd been so sensitive to his mouth before.]

Now you know how I felt. [And why in the aftermath it'd been plenty satisfying despite not reaching the same apex. He doesn't mind that she's more sensitive than he is, when it makes her look this happy.] And you opened the door for it, so... yeah, you're hot.

[His voice is lower as he says it, half-murmured near her ear. He kind of likes her this way, and success gives rise to confidence.]

[ Because of the last time they've engaged in something like this, he knows at least one spot upon her neck that sets her off, and Architect does he know how to tease the area with just his fingers. In her current warmed, aroused state as he pulls her to him, it feels as if he's flicking fire across her skin. Whoever knew burning could be so pleasurable?

She draws a quick breath as her body tenses, chest to his, thighs along his, toes curling inward, and her blush returns in full force as she attempts to quiet down the want for him to move more.

Her arms drape over his sides. She wants to feel him-- just. A little more. Just a little more. ] Does this mean all you needed was a little encouragement...?

Maybe... a bit.

[More like a gentle prodding in that direction, because he's pretty bad at starting things himself, apparently. Case in point: her not knowing that he was even amenable to it, because what they had going was satisfying enough that he didn't have any complaints. He won't deny that there's something incredibly satisfying about the way she looks right now though, the blush practically glowing on her cheeks, the way she subtly squirms against him, making him think back to that night and the noises he'd coaxed out of her with his mouth alone, much as she'd done to him moments ago. His fingertips continue to tease against the sensitive spots on her neck, and he can't help licking his lips, wondering if it would be too much if he just leaned in to kiss her there again... is that what she wants? Or- more than that?

He shifts a little closer, lifting a leg to curl over hers, toes brushing over the back of her calf. As close as they are, she does feel hot.]

Wanna stop? Or... want to encourage me a little more?

[ boi she wants it all

His leg brushing along her calf causes her own legs to respond in kind, twisting further with his. This puts his thigh between hers, a soft, tempting fit that elicits a soft, airy breath between her lips. She's surprised that he wants to continue.

The short answer is this: yes, she wants to encourage him a little more. A lot more. She wants to bring about all the sounds, the gasps, and the release of his from before, only this time-- together. Her hand slides down his side, back to his hip as her own thigh rises to press upward into the crux of his legs. Then her hand goes back up, high enough to reach for his fingers that tease at the side of her neck to guide his palm down to her breast, pert against his palm. This along causes a shudder. She swallows, then draws near enough brush her lips along his jaw, whispering. ] ...How about this?

[ Much like her top, the rest of her clothes vanish upon her body, dissolving into amber, starry light that fades from existence. Now nude against him, heat does indeed radiate from her with a ironic tremble. ]

[...oh. oh, wow.

He bites his lip to muffle a quiet groan as she rubs her leg against him, feeling a soft stir of warmth spreading from her body to his own, coaxing his spent arousal towards life again. When she shivers at his hand on her breast he moves his fingers experimentally, squeezing gently, caressing her skin, his thumb brushing over her nipple to see what she likes. She's bare now, and he finds himself wanting more, so he shifts his legs and hips away from her just long enough to kick his pants the rest of the way off, ignoring them as they disappear of the edge of the bed. He misses her warmth already, and presses up against her once more, skin to skin, legs twining.

Taking a deep breath, because it's one thing to know she wants it and another to actually do it, he forgoes her thigh between his legs and opts instead to rub directly against her, coaxing his body back to hardness by seeking out her heat. He wants that fire back... he's already starting to burn.]

...I, uh. [His voice almost cracks, and he goes bright red - moreso than he was already - swallowing hard and trying again.] I got, um. Condoms...

[Which might be the most clear-cut tell that he has in fact been thinking about this before now.]

[ Just a flick of his fingers over her breast's tip has her strain against him as a whine passes through her lips. She feels that, alright, as if it directly twines herself within the further he fondles. Her chest is heavy-- literally, of course, and supple, but also heavy with her breaths, her lips against his neck in a half-formed kiss, a half-pant. She has no heart, but her body pulses with desire, laced with shivers and near-desperate keens, fingers digging into his arms tightly.

She's been thinking of this, too, because the one night he had coaxed her climax from her had left her wanting both to give to him in return and have more of him, of what it would be like to feel him truly against her, with her as one, to share in this pleasure and connection together. Her imagination simply isn't enough. ]

Condoms? [ Pyra eyes blink open, her gaze hazy with desire, half-lidded from the wonderful damage he's doing to her. Gingerly, she lifts her thigh from between his legs to move over his. Coolness greets the crux of her legs briefly, and it's with a urging push and a turn that she makes herself straddle atop him. She's wet. She's ready. He'll feel it as obviously as the way she looks at him, leaning forward upon him, exhaling from the contact. ] You don't-- really... Noct, you don't need them.

[ He's seen what her body is made of. There ain't no organs there! Her birth control is ~magic~.

She leans over him, her hands sliding up his chest to over his shoulders, her touch leaving his body to palm at the mattress upon either side of his head. Her whisper comes low, ] Let me... let me feel you.

[He opens his mouth to object - because it can't just be okay, because he has to be responsible here, something about duty and lineage and magic, things that don't come up in a normal person's sex ed. It takes a few seconds to click, in part because her shifted position makes him stutter through a gasp, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as his length is trapped beneath her, rubbed teasingly against the wet warmth between her legs. In part also because he'd forgotten she wasn't human, something easy to forget when she's so real and responsive beneath his fingers. Crystal, or energy, whatever- she's a person, and he'd categorized her as someone who he would need condoms for.

He's then momentarily derailed by the fact that had he realized this before, he could have avoided the embarrassment of 1) asking Era about it and thus implying he was on the brink of having a sex life, and 2) having to buy condoms from robots.

He shivers, looking up at her with somewhat glossy eyes, trying to refocus on that. It's far more interesting than his fluster, which he'll have plenty of time to worry about later. He moves his hands to press them onto her hips, fingers gliding over her thighs, rocking a little against her.]

I'm, ah... I'm in, if you want it.

[it's not a question; he knows she does, can feel it in waves. And now that the words are out of his mouth, it occurs to him that he would very much like to be in.]

[ Her wet warmth coats him where they are connected at the hips, obvious that there is no question of if. She wants this, wants him, to feel him and be connected to him. She smiles, leaning forward to give him a kiss upon his forehead. ] O...Okay... Let's.

[ With his consent, she's not waiting any longer to bring this act to its final course, and she lifts herself off of him by a few reaches to reach for his length to help with positioning. His tip is shiny with a coating both his pleasure and her tongue from before, making his shaft slicker in her hands. She presses her sex to his with a silent swallow, head to entrace, the sensitivity of which pulses and tingles from just the trace of him there.

She sinks just a bit deeper onto him, and here she draws another breath as the breach begins, thighs trembling in want and anticipation, and it takes all of her control to not quicken the descent to satisfy emptiness inside her. But she knows she must pace herself-- for him, for herself, for not knowing how he might feel, and to allow herself to adjust to his girth. A few seconds pass, and she slips him inside of her, her folds and her warmth enveloping the entirety of his tip hungrily. She knows to relax to make this easier, but nothing can prepare her for him, the strange and wonderful joining between two parts of a body that so rarely interact outside of this. Just this initial inch of slippery friction has her gasp, and her breaths become gulps; she feels heat, she feels that heat travel up her spine and throughout her body. But even for her there is discomfort to adjust to his size, and she draws a shuddering breath before exhaling out to the ceiling. Her one hand that's still upon him grips him tighter at the base than before, while the other rests on his waist, clutching him there. A moment passes, then another..., it's getting better. Easier. Heat spreads across her cheeks at how obviously lustful she's been for him.

She falls deeper into him, removing her hand from his length and placing it upon his side, her voice staggering into a loud moan, then a quiet exhale of his name. How does it feel so good already? Maybe because she's been waiting for this. Maybe because she loves him. Sweat begins to bead upon her chest, rolling down her breasts and abdomen as she strains to focus on fitting to him as pleasure continues to overcome her. Her body sinks over him even deeper. She's hardly halfway down on him, and her breaths are already labored, but the pleasure is beckoning her to continue. He feels so good, so filling, pulsing against her flesh, molding and pressing against all of her walls. She quivers with want again, and that motion gives way to slipping all the way down to the hilt.

Perhaps too far down, punctuated with a wet slap. Her body momentarily goes rigid, hands tightening upon his side, and then slack as he is felt completely sheathed. She gasps as her spine arches...

It's only two seconds' delay, trembling, breathing, before her hips swivel forward upon his. And then she begins to move, to rock, to lift up, then return, to rise then fall, to feel him not just in her, but slicking within her, against her, with her. It won't be long until her movements grow more urgent, powerful as she's guided by that pleasure to give it all back to him, to make this an experience that has him see stars-- not in an overwhelming sense, but to make it something loving and tailored to him. ]

[His breath is stuttered as she guides him inside herself, his heart beginning to thud like a drumbeat in his chest, eager in a similar fashion to when she'd had her lips on him. This is different, of course- her body folds around him to take him in, rubbing against his length not just with tongue but fully encircling it with muscle and the pulse of her arousal. It's slow, almost painfully so, and he grips tightly to the sheet beneath him to hold back from bucking his hips to find her core, managing to maintain enough sense to realize she's in control here. And... he likes that, actually. There's something powerfully delicious about consenting to her desire, letting her take him as she pleases. It's a different sort of abandoned agency to the times his body has been made to manifest or house power- from the gods, the ring, the Crystal. He chose this, to take her, to let her take him in.

He can't take his eyes off of her, his gaze drifting hungrily across her body- the way her thighs shiver, the way her breasts rise as she gasps, the way her mouth moves as she groans out her pleasure. The way his length disappears inside her, feeling more and more of that wet and welcoming heat with every inch. The more he sees it, the more he wants to see- he wants to vanish within her, wants them to move as one, he wants to hear her say his name like that over and over. His eyes are heavy, clouded by the heat of his own lust, and as she sinks down against him one of his hands releases the fabric and slides up her thigh, wandering across to her stomach, thumb brushing over just above where their bodies are joined. Lingering only a few moments, his fingers travel further upwards, following a trail of sweat to her breasts, brushing teasingly over pliant, tender flesh. He wants to touch and explore her body the way she'd done with his, seek out even more sensitive areas and leave her gasping.

And then she reaches the base, fully sinking down onto him with a sudden and unexpected rush, and his breath catches once more, releasing a guttural moan. His hips buck upwards a bit before he can help himself, hand dropping to curl against her side in an attempt to support her. The way her back arched makes him want to lurch upwards to follow her, to pull her back kiss along the curve of her bared neck. Maybe... maybe he will.

She's moving before he can think to do anything but murmur her name, and after the first few rolls and grinds she'd done on her own he shifts subtly to move with her as he releases another sharp gasp. His feet brace against the mattress, knees folding just enough to brush against her from behind, giving him leverage to thrust his hips up to meet her again, trying to adjust to her pace. His hands settle on her thighs, the muscles of his arms and chest flexing and glistening with sweat as he uses his strength to help lift her, releasing his upward push to let gravity and her own movement bring her back down that much harder, swallowing his length to the hilt once more, over and over. She's so wet that each thrust is smooth and seamlessly glides into the next, which only further fuels his thirst for more, more. She feels incredible against him, inside and out, and between the heat she's spreading through him and the way her beautiful body moves against his, he feels like he's going to go crazy. Instinctively he picks up the pace, his hips bucking more urgently into her as he chases that high she'd led him to before, this time pushing her up there with him- at least, he hopes. By the noises she's making, she sure looks as if she's enjoying it.]

[ She's enjoying it. She loves it. She loves him, and perhaps it's this last reason that she's putting as much effort into making this experience as exhausting and pleasurable as possible, wanting to work him as much as she wants to feel him herself.

Up, down, in and out, a swivel, a swerve. She begins to pant with every fall and every time his hips rise up to meet hers, an instinctual, unabashed motion that tells her that he's wanting this as much as her. She answers his efforts with work, rising up his length to the head and then plunging back to his base. She moans as her body shudders and sweat begins to dot her brow, attempting to find just the right position for the both of them, and there, there, she feels a powerful stroke within her just as his hands brush over her chest. She seizes, stuttering their rhythm to allow a gasp to pass out between her lips as her thighs tremble and press inward on either side of him.

One of Pyra's hands lifts off of his chest to grip the one upon her, and she presses her palm to her breast as if urging him to grasp her-- more, more, as she resumes, and builds, to the pace their hips were moving before.

It's becoming loud, heated with her moans by voice and each time they connect with each other, the creaking of the bed, the song of his breaths in return... and the pleasure is all but a deafening thrum within her ears. He's moving faster, and she-- likes that. She likes how she cannot think before he lifts up and into her, she likes how he's moving so quickly and deeply into her, that he is building up towards a completion, and he's working with her. It's such a different sensation to have him-- actually him-- within her that it encourages her even more. Pyra tilts herself just a margin forward, breathing out his name with a shallow gasp, allowing her movements more leverage and force upon him in tandem, providing more friction for them both, and allowing him to reach deeper into her, so that each time they part and join he might feel a slick coolness before being enveloped by her warmth entirely. She's close, she can feel herself just on the edge of that cliff, each thrust into her like another gust of wind pushing her towards it, causing her to teeter, to stumble, to have her toes curl as if she weren't brave enough to take that leap--

One more thrust from him and simultaneous fall from her, hips forcefully connecting fully to his, causes her to be thrown off that ledge entirely. She peaks with a soft cry of his name, constricting through the fierce set of trembles that overcome her body both outside and inside. Her hips rock forward and back upon him, wanton and despondent in her climax, massaging her lasting pleasure with refractory jerks. Lips parted for a few extra pants, she'll continue to move afterwards, should he need to follow right after. ]

[She's good. She's too good, overwhelming him with a sea of new sensations, every bump and grind coaxing him to go further, to move faster, to thrust deeper, instinctively longing to reach her deepest core. He follows her pace, challenging her at random with a particularly rough lift to startle a moan out of her, thirsting to hear that sound again and again. He wants to see her pleasure as much as he's seeking out his own. The thought of her enjoying the feel of him inside her, of taking joy in what he's doing to her- it's intoxicating.

When her hand encourages his own he moves it, supporting and massaging her breast, fondling the soft and pliant skin. He allows the noises she makes to guide him where to touch more, what areas to explore, as best as he's able to focus beyond the connection point between their bodies that threatens to drown him in the fog of endless pleasure. The other curls at her hip, dipping underneath and still working to support her lifts and drops.

He loves- he loves this. The brief chill of her absence followed by the warm enveloping heat as she takes him in again, the wet slap of skin on skin, sweat pooling in the concaves of her muscle and between her breasts. He loves the way she gasps and cries, the way she stumbles over his name, the weight of her body lingering on him when he catches her off guard with a thrust abrupt enough that she needs a second to regain her focus after the wave of pleasure overwhelmed her. There's a drumbeat in his head, an echo of more, more, more, and he's helpless to indulge it. He loves it. He loves her. And he knew that already, but still.

His pace slows when she drops down with a cry, her body arched and trembling, and he can recognize the signs of her climax. He rides it out with her, self-satisfied and eager to witness it properly. Last time, he'd had his face buried against her neck and had only seen the aftermath. This, though... she's radiant. A hot, beautiful mess, mouth open and chest heaving. He rather likes that look on her.

He's not far behind her at all, picking up the pace again as he regains his focus; a few more hard, grinding thrusts up into her body to catch up with her until he's at last releasing deep within her body with a strangled cry, his hands taut and trembling against her skin. He slumps back against the mattress, utterly spent and gasping like he'd just finished a long fight, sweaty and pulsing with lingering adrenaline. He can feel the wet mix of their sex against his length, and he shivers at the sensation, of being surrounded by her warmth and the evidence of what they'd just done. He'll miss it when they have to separate, so he makes no move to do so yet. Just for a moment, he'll indulge in this feeling, like being wrapped up in a cozy warm blanket after a shower.]

IC Contact | Hugtopia

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and we're nsfw as of now!!

heck i'm glad you remembered bc i sure didn't

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