unbr8kable | continuations

[She manages to grab the nearest pair, though there are several others to choose from if she doesn't like those]

[He shudders, hard, though whether at the motion of her hand or that suggestion, it's hard to say]

Guess... guess we gotta try that another time.

Guess we do.

[It's another few strokes before she reluctantly pulls off, thumb swirling indulgently over the flat of his head]

[Then she bends a bit, offering the lacy panties for him to step into, though he'll need to raise his leg a decent amount to make it]

[He groans a little, as she takes her hand away - bites down on his lip, and can't quite help the way his hips rock forward, into the teasing touch of her thumb over the head]

[Then she pulls away entirely, and he lets out a shuddering breath; his cock twitches in the empty air, a clear drop trickling its slow way down the length of him]

J-jesus, dude.

[He shifts, from one foot to the other - shifts again. Manages to lift his leg, finally, to step into the panties]

Edited 2022-01-04 06:03 (UTC)

[She helps him work the slightly scratchy lace up from his ankle to his thigh, dragging her fingers over his skin up until the back of her hand brushes against his balls.]

...Oh--that's right.

[And then she drags the lace back down again even more slowly--leans in close enough that her hair brushes against his inner thigh as she finally makes it back down to his ankle. Again, she holds the panties open so he can insert his other leg]

[His breathing has gone markedly heavier, by the time she gets back down; the scratch of the lace and the brush of her hand don't lend themselves well to staying still, and he shifts and fidgets as she makes the slow trip, painfully aware of everywhere se's touching, and everywhere she isn't]

[When he speaks, he's more than a little breathless]

Ah. Th-thanks.

I aim to please.

[She winks up at him before straightening back up, pulling the lace up both legs this time. Her pace stays leisurely, and she leans in just close enough for the starch of her shirt to brush against his bare skin.

Probably it's just coincidence that it takes her a little longer to go from his port on up; surely it's just logistics that dragging the delicate fabric up the curve of his ass and the underside of his dick takes the longest of all]

[Surely it's just logistics]

[And surely, if things have been taken into account already for the sake of logistics, it is not entirely surprising that his hips cant into that slow drag; surely it is not entirely surprising that the lace absorbs some of the moisture on its way, becoming damp as it drags over the length of him]

J-jesus. Xia -

[She smiles back blithely]

There we are. For a minute there, I hadn't actually thought it was gonna fit.

[Without missing a beat, she reaches down to cup his balls, then drags her hand none-too-gently up the lacing adorning the delicate garment]

Hmm...

[His breath leaves him in a shaky rush; his hips rock forward into the pressure of her palm. Beneath the lace and the ribbons lacing the front, the shape of him is painfully evident, the outline straining against the fabric]

S'that why, like - why you were taking it so slow...?

[Her hand smooths back down the ladder of ribbons, then back up, casually stroking him through the fabric]

Taking what slow? That's the same speed as every day. Haven't you noticed?

I - I mean.

[His flush grows deeper; he ducks his head]

[His hips have started pressing forward in shallow little circles, encouraging the motion of her hand]

Maybe?

...Are you saying you want it faster?

[She demonstrates, smile oozing over her face]

[He makes a noise that gets caught somewhere at the back of his throat; his hips jolt forward, and his mouth falls open in a soundless gasp]

F-faster ain't - bad.

In that case...

[She doesn't speed up any further, but certainly doesn't slow down. There isn't a ton of give in the tight panties, but she does her best to get a good grip, wrapping the lace around him with each stroke--pressing it into the flat of his head as she swirls her thumb before easing into another tug.

The rest of her stays put, hand low at the small of his back, skimming over the band of the panties but mostly there for balance; face close enough that she can almost feel the heat roiling off him, and she keeps hungry eyes on his expression, the work of his throat]

[He whimpers, soft and wavering - judders forward into her hand, when she presses the lace up against the head, every swirl of her thumb drawing a tremble from him]

[His cheeks are flushed, the freckles all but swallowed up by the heat; his pupils are wide and dark, eyes glazed and decidedly distracted. He's bitten down on his lip, by now, to try and keep himself in check, but he can't help the way he rocks into her touch, more blatant with every passing stroke]

[She returns a hum, low and satisfied, and continues stroking him through the lace--gives extra attention over the ridge of his head, certainly not trying to have him be anywhere near in check.

She lays a long kiss at the corner of his mouth, because she can,]

[If she's going for not in check, she's heading in the right direction; with each passing stroke, the press of his hips becomes more blatant. There's a damp spot on the lace of the panties, now, evident on her upstrokes, and he takes the kiss as an invitation, turning into it to try for somethign deeper]

[She falls easily into the kiss, parting her lips so he can deepen all he likes. Her other hand skims up his back and over his sides, no particular reason or rhyme behind the movements but encouragement and the simple pleasure of feeling him]

[He makes a soft sound into the kiss - parts his lips, lapping into her mouth. His hips have fallen into a shaky rhythm, pressing into her hand with needy little motions, and he shudders at the feel of her fingers through the lace, seeming more affected with each passing second]

[His hands come up to trace the outline of her, through the suit; he shudders, and shifts, and makes a quiet sound that's mostly muffled by her mouth]

Edited 2022-01-09 17:55 (UTC)

[She keeps up the lazy pace over the panties, pumps slow and thorough, thumb scraping just a bit over the damp lace straining around his head on the upstroke.

She keeps the kiss lazy too, lapping a bit at his tongue or lip, but for the most part letting him do all the work--just enjoying the evidence of him increasingly worked up]

[He makes a strained sort of whine into the kiss, as she scrapes against the head though the fabric; his hips jolt forward harder, pressing in for more, and his cheeks flush darker still at the evidence of his own need]

[His hands find her hips - settle there, perhaps needing somewhere to hold on. By all indications, he's close; the muscles in his thighs have gone tight and trembling the way they do as he nears the finish line, the wet patch around the tip of him growing a little wider]

[She hums at the partial embrace, pleased and comfortable as he squirms. The hand not working at his cock drifts up over his chest, flicking over his nipples and dragging over his ribs--relatively relaxed compared to his urgency]

[His breath catches, as she flicks over his nipples; his hips shudder needily into the press of her fingers. He breaks the kiss, panting - manages to gasp out:]

X-Xia -

I'm gonna -

...You're gonna make a mess over these nice panties? Tsk tsk...

[Not that she slows her pace, thumbing casually over the flat of his head, the fabric already wet and sticky,]

[A long beat, and then another; he whines, high and desperate]

[His eyes squeeze shut; his mouth falls open, and his hips stutter off rhythm as he makes the slow climb to the peak and she tips him, inexorably, over the ledge. All that once, the whine grows more urgent still, and then - suddenly -]

[He does, in fact, make an absolute mess of the panties, the fabric growing much wetter and much stickier,]

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