unbr8kable | continuations

[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,]

[Another hum, and she continues to ease him through it, rubbing until he finally stops jerking, his shudders slowing to something more manageable]

[He shivers and twitches, subsiding at last - takes a moment or two just to catch his breath]

...oh my god, dude.

Edited 2022-01-23 08:14 (UTC)

[Her off hand strokes down his back as he does, steady in case he needs the support.

As for her good hand, at length she leaves off from a job well done, and hums--hesitates--licks tentatively at the mess on her fingers, just to see]

[He seems a little transfixed by the sight of her taste-testing. His flush goes darker, as he follows the pink flick of her her tongue with his eyes]

...sorry.

Kinda made a mess.

Sure did.

[She smirks, licking at her hand again before offering it to him]

[The flush goes all the way to his ears, but he does indeed lean in to lap carefully at her fingers,]

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