[He is momentarily distracted by the task of watching her undress. It's a studious, awed sort of stare, like he can't quite believe what he is witnessing or looking at. As a result, he is late undressing himself in return. Getting his clothes off is a bit more of a task for how he is proportioned. He kicks his last boot off with such force that it collides with a loud THUD against the opposite wall. And then he is there -- broad, freckled, and pale, save for a line of red that starts at his collar, fades in his chest area, and starts again near his abdomen.
He places one hand on each of her knees as he climbs back on the bed, slotting himself between her legs. However, he hesitates again upon observing the difference in length between them. His hand drops to the nest of hair, curiously prodding again amidst the arousal -- just to keep contact there, somehow.]
If you're sure--
[He's clearly more nervous about this than she is, given how he pauses when he lines himself up. There's no measure for how this is going to feel -- or if its even going to work.]
no subject
He places one hand on each of her knees as he climbs back on the bed, slotting himself between her legs. However, he hesitates again upon observing the difference in length between them. His hand drops to the nest of hair, curiously prodding again amidst the arousal -- just to keep contact there, somehow.]
If you're sure--
[He's clearly more nervous about this than she is, given how he pauses when he lines himself up. There's no measure for how this is going to feel -- or if its even going to work.]