unbr8kable | continuations

[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,]

[This gets her full attention, both her gaze and breathing heavy at the pink of his tongue against her skin.

She lifts her hand up to his mouth, prodding light at the plush of his lower lip in another offer]

[He takes it, readily - laps with fastidious little swipes of his tongue, intent and focused]

[Her eyes stay locked on each one, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as he works.]

--You should put on one of those dresses, or you ain't never gonna make it that far.

[She does not look particularly against that option, hardly as unaffected as she'd been going for earlier. Regardless, she pulls her hand back, offering him the closest of the gowns, the short, flippy white one]

[He hesitates - reaches out to take it, flush going darker]

Should I like...

[He hesitates - glances down at the underwear]

Should I keep these on? Or...

You did make a real big mess out of 'em... Better nix those guys, think they're done.

Yeah... yeah.

They're, uh - kinda a mess.

[He bites down on his lip, self-conscious - reaches toward the underwear, shimmying carefully out of them]

[Watches the shift of his hips and the line of his back,]

[He straightens up when he's done, still flushed]

You think I oughtta get another pair, or just...?

[Indicates the dress]

[Looks him up and down again, gaze heavy and lingering]

...You better go without. 'Specially if you're just gonna make a mess again.

Ah... right.

Then - right.

[The flush goes darker; he swallows, with effort]

[Then he picks the dress up, hesitant, and starts to squirm into it]

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