[ Watching him suck their fluids off his finger stirs her unexpectedly. Watching him savor this, she's less afraid of what might come next. She turns her head. The sticky mixture of his spend and hers has coated two of his fingers, and he has only cleaned one. She cleans the other now: a lewd, indulgent lap of her tongue. The taste is incomparable. Tangy and bitter. It tastes like communion, and makes her feel light. Then she kisses him, her tongue pressing into his mouth. So she can taste it on his lips and he on hers. ]
For what? [ She asks finally, when the kiss breaks. and her forehead is pressed against to his temple, her nose crushed against his cheek with the effort of drawing closer. In the absence of his erection, she's taking every chance she can get.
For the life of her, she can't figure out what he'd offer her gratitude for. Not when this was as much for her as him. If anything, she feels thankful--that he has finally made it possible for her to have this, when she had feared losing it. And now they're lingering in it together, rather than flinching away. ]
no subject
For what? [ She asks finally, when the kiss breaks. and her forehead is pressed against to his temple, her nose crushed against his cheek with the effort of drawing closer. In the absence of his erection, she's taking every chance she can get.
For the life of her, she can't figure out what he'd offer her gratitude for. Not when this was as much for her as him. If anything, she feels thankful--that he has finally made it possible for her to have this, when she had feared losing it. And now they're lingering in it together, rather than flinching away. ]