[ Presses his hips forward, presses against those vines-- a shiver runs through him, one that Aeron can no doubt feel over his back. Metal fingers (warm, more than warm enough by now, between them) slide up the nape of Aeron's neck, sweep matted hair away so Chrys can leave the marks of his teeth there, too. His good hand moves down, drags fingertips over the plane of Aeron's belly, feels for the edge of his pants. Slipping beneath the layers of fabric, to grasp and hold, lightly, ever so lightly. ]
[he murmurs more, presses his back tight against Chrys' chest in needy, rocking motions. His vines slip and curl wher ehtey are, pushing under cloth where it's found, rubbing over it and under it. Coils and strokes for Chrys along with the rock of his body, and mall, hard little motions for Aerta, with fingertips circling and slipping in and out of her.]
[ She tilts her fingertips bringing her nails to his skin, but not hard- just light scratches against his chest, then up across his shoulders and neck. she can't touch enough of him ]
Too gentle- that's much too gentle . . . mm, don't be cruel, brother- . . .
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devotedtothecore) wrote2011-08-18 08:23 am
Re: 114 noonish
Re: 114 noonish
[he murmurs more, presses his back tight against Chrys' chest in needy, rocking motions. His vines slip and curl wher ehtey are, pushing under cloth where it's found, rubbing over it and under it. Coils and strokes for Chrys along with the rock of his body, and mall, hard little motions for Aerta, with fingertips circling and slipping in and out of her.]
Re: 114 noonish
Too gentle- that's much too gentle . . . mm, don't be cruel, brother- . . .