a_shadow | Savrou IC Contact

[This is where his flexibility comes into play. He's not sure that hitting anyone does anything for him. Very likely, it doesn't -- not in the way that control does. But to an extent, he knows that he'll do what he needs to do to take a situation to where it wants to be... and anyway, she's the one with the safe word. If she's asking for this and not talking about elephants, it's what she wants.

He moves his hand up from the mattress to her thigh, then rests it against her bottom, then delivers a small, sharp slap.]

Good?

Edited 2016-09-16 02:12 (UTC)

[ She has returned to sucking his cock, not intending to leave him wanting, but she sort of lets out a snort when he asks that. He's always so delicate with her until she shows him how hard she wants things. She leaves that alone, though, figuring they can either address it later or he'll figure it out on his own. ]

[That didn't sound precisely like a noise of approval, although he can't tell whether the snort is over the slap or the fact that he asked her about it. His breathing hitches, then he lets out a soft resigned sigh.

It's not tempting to slap her too hard when his cock is in her mouth, but he tries again, harder and sharper, and waits for a sign rather than asking her for an opinion.]

[ Better—still not ideal, but better. Anyway, she's mostly concentrating on his pleasure at this point. A good slap would be most appreciated when he's pounding her from behind or similar anyway, and she's certainly not going to insist on a change in position for that.

In any case she lets out a hum, a more approving sound, tips her hips against his hand, and moves her own hand to the base of his shaft to begin pumping the lower half of his penis in time with the movements of her mouth. This leaves her in a tripod position, supporting her weight on three limbs, but she knows this will bring him closer to climaxing. She brings her mouth off his cock with a wet pop, licks broadly at his foreskin, and then starts bobbing her head again, faster and harder. ]

[He tries to keep working at her with his hand, but it's hard to concentrate on anything else now. He feels so many sensations at once, all in the same sensitive area: heat, the wetness of her mouth and softness of her tongue, the friction from her hand.

She overwhelms him. He shakes under her and clutches at her hip with the hand that isn't inside her. There's a warning twitch and a half-second of stillness, and then an explosion of pleasure.

He's not quiet about it.]

[ She keeps her mouth on him, swallowing back everything as he comes. She takes it as a compliment that he can't seem to keep quiet, passing her hand gently over his balls as his climax dies down. It's all right that he hasn't worked her up to orgasm yet—at this point she'd like to turn around and face him properly for that. Which is the move she makes next—crawling off of him, turning around, and laying with her head in the gap next to his shoulder. ]

You want me to sit on your face or lie down on my back to finish?

[ She fiddles with his hair at his temple, then runs her fingers down the side of his face. She doesn't mind if he tells her he wants to rest a bit first. ]

[He leans into her caressing hand, then turns his head and kisses her cheek.

All he really wants to do is rest for a moment, but it seems she wants him to reciprocate. That's all right, if his goal is future repeat occasions.]

Lie down on your back. Or on your side.

Which do you like?

My back, I think.

[ She reciprocates the kiss by kissing him on the lips. Then she rolls off of him onto her back, pulling his arm out from under her head. Concentrating on him the way she had had calmed her drive a bit, so she starts messing with her nipples, working to turn herself back on again. ]

[He stretches his feet, then rolls over onto her and works his way down. She's already playing with her own nipples, so he doesn't stop there, instead kissing lazily down her stomach.

What to do here? The things he'd done a few minutes earlier had been his first attempt at this sort of thing, and they hadn't gotten far enough that he'd been able to tell what specific actions would work best for her. It's going to be harder now -- his mind is a little less sharp than it had been at the time. The best thing to do is probably to get started again.

He separates her lower lips with his fingertips, then lowers his mouth to her clit, alternately sucking and tonguing to see what she responds to better.]

[ She whimpers and writhes a bit, moving a hand from her chest to entangle in his hair. She doesn't realize he's testing her to see what she'll like best—she just thinks he's keeping things from being stale by mixing it up. Something she appreciates, and she moves her hips against his mouth when she feels it's time to encourage him to move his tongue faster. ]

[... Well, that's inconclusive. She likes what he's doing, but he can't discern whether she likes one aspect more than any other. Every signal she's offering is a signal of encouragement.

He tries to intensify everything: more suction, faster action with his tongue. The suction is harder to maintain than the tongue movements, so he defaults to those. The taste is salty and warm, not unpleasant, not too far from the way she smells.

Are all women's bodies always like this? They're supposed to be, but he can't say for sure how well the created body has duplicated a real one. He has nothing to compare it to -- not this intimately.]

[ Now she makes some more noises, letting out a small moan and flexing her hand in his hair to tug it a bit, a way of signaling encouragement. ]

Finger me, too.

[ She bends her head down a little to look at him, to see that he follows her instructions. ]

[He snorts, mainly because he was considering it, and because it's the sole direction she's given him, and because he'd have to stop tonguing her to say anything more.

After a moment's consideration involving exactly which finger to use and where his hand will go, he rests his hand on her inner thigh, alongside his face, and presses his thumb into her. Once it's in about halfway, he makes lazy circles with it.]

[ She misinterprets the reason for the snort and rolls her eyes. ]

Oh, you can handle it.

[ When he brings his hand up she spreads her thighs wider to make room. And of course, there he goes being gentle again. She tugs his hair a bit. ]

Do everything harder.

[He gives her a very direct look -- I'm getting there -- even though he's probably most visible as a pair of eyes and a mop of dark hair and not too much more. The tug at his hair would be a turn-on if he were ready to go again, but with his face already between her thighs, it's more like a small bonus.

She wants it harder, so he does it harder, wrapping his free arm around her leg, sucking and licking at the same time, moving his thumb faster and more roughly, waiting to see if it will be enough for her... and tucking the information away, in the hopes that it will be relevant in the future.]

[ That's a lot more like it. She lets the sensations build with a few whimpers, pushing her hand through his hair a couple of times, letting her head fall back when she's close, moaning. And then she comes, and though it's not nearly as intense as the one earlier, it's still good. ]

[Feeling her come is both gratifying and a relief. What if he really hadn't been able to make it happen? He'd been trying, but from a position of a total lack of expertise, and he's aware that not every body always responds to even the most sophisticated ministrations.

So far, she doesn't seem to think he's clumsy, though. He slides up between her thighs, folds his arms under him, and rests his hands under his chin on top of her stomach, watching her.]

I can't believe I was worried about breaking you. Maybe I should have been more concerned that you'll wear me out.

[His tone indicates that he's joking -- about both things.]

[ She smirks, running her hand through his hair to extricate it, and smoothing it down. ]

Am I testing your limits?

[Possibly, a little, although he's not really sure exactly where they are. Establishing them is more like it, but they haven't really hit the outer edges.

He turns his head to the side, resting it against her abdomen.]

I'm not sure whether I'd call that question optimistic or pessimistic. It might take you a while to find them.

[There's a question implied there: do you want to invest the time?]

[ Her smirk grows into a grin and she rubs lightly at his cheek. ]

Mm, good answer.

[ She runs her hand down to his neck, then his shoulder. ]

Hey. Come kiss me, huh?

[He raises his head and moves his hands to the bed on either side of her, then crawls forward on all fours until their faces are even with each other, then rests on his elbows, the weight of his torso on hers.

He looks her in the eye and lowers his mouth to kiss her.]

What about your limits?

[It's apparent that they haven't touched them, but he wonders what she'll say.]

[ She sets her hands on his sides and rubs at them, letting him settle onto her. It's weird—in her normal body she'd be more muscular than him, and that wouldn't bother her at all, but somehow it's nice being more petite than him like she is in this body. ]

Just don't treat me like a china doll and you're doing good.

[ She kisses him again, letting it draw out for a few extra moments. ]

We probably ought to have a more specific talk about that stuff, though, shouldn't we?

[ Moving a hand to his cheek, she rubs it with her thumb and kisses him once more, lightly. ]

[He looks at her through one eye, leaving the other closed.]

Should we?

[It's not as arch and cool as it might otherwise be. He kisses her again -- her mouth is two inches away and almost irresistible.]

So we're both interested in continuing this. I wanted to be sure.

[ She moves her arm to curl up by her ear, stretching lightly, and accepts his kiss with a small smile. ]

Yes. On both counts.

[ She tilts her head to rest on his. ]

Do you want to make an appearance at the party tonight, or just...?

[ It's tempting to remain here, curled up comfortably, though dancing together also sounds nice. ]

To be honest, I don't really care about the party.

[He's not there to care about it: he's here. There will be a party tomorrow and the next day and probably the day after that, until they can leave... but he doesn't really want to leave. He doesn't even particularly want to leave this room, unless it's to get more food and wine... and not that, if they can get someone to bring it to them.

It doesn't really occur to him to wonder why, nor that this lack of concern is uncharacteristic.]

What do you want to do? It wouldn't be a bad time for your discussion.

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