virgocat | Closed

He just breathes against her cheek, raising his brows at her explanation. Huh. Okay, he can do that. He kisses at her cheek, leans in near her ear.

"I want to eat you out."

His voice is low, almost a growl. He leans back and draws up her legs onto the bed. She'll have to scoot back for him to get between them, but first he bites at the side of her calf, then leaves a soothing kiss over the bite.

Oh. No she was wrong. She's never heard it called that. Other things, but that's new. And the rather wicked nature of the phrase, or maybe just the way it sounds when Arthur says it, makes her go hot low in her belly.

And that growl. She practically melts, and very willingly complies with his moving her around as he wants. The bite illicits as little wimper from her, but not in protest. She enjoys it, as much as she'd enjoyed putting her teeth into him before. And her skin is smooth. Not the smooth of the freshly shaven, but the kind that says hair never grew there, or any place on her, save for her brows and the mane of blood red curls.

She anticipates his need for more space, moving back onto the bed some. She's not sure exactly where he wants her, but expects he'll let her know. She's handed herself over to him, to his guidance and their mutual wants. It's frightening and liberating, all at once.

He enjoys the smoothness of her skin, how soft it is. He moves her around easily, settling between her legs and kissing at her belly, moving his lips down. He won't tease her too hard this time. They're probably a little too desperate for that. So he dives in, running his tongue along the outside of her vaginal lip. His fingers pet across her lips before dipping in and parting them, making way for his mouth. He moves forward and dips his tongue inside of her, licking at that wet heat. He's lying flat on the bed, one arm resting on her leg as he licks into her.

The first brush of his tongue makes her gasp, covering her mouth with one hand, from the surprise of sensation. It's something she could never have imagined. The image of him nuzzling between her legs only adds to it.

She doesn't know what to do. She can't keep still, though it occurs that it might be easier for him if she didn't move. But she can't help it. Little jolts of pleasure roll through her, making her writhe under him, her hips shifting, searching for either escape or to increase the intensity. Her free hand grabs the bedding, twisting it in a fist, releasing then doing it again.

"Arthur!" His name is a desperate rasp, a plea for something, she doesn't really know what. Guidance, help, more, something.

He pulls back, licking her taste off his lips. His eyes are dark, and his voice is pitched lower when he speaks.

"It's okay. Just try to breathe," he tells her, smoothing a hand over her thigh. He's panting, and he's trying to decide if it's too early to want to be inside her. He rests his head on her thigh and tries to breathe before looking up at her.

"Do you want me to keep going?" He kisses her thigh. "Or something else?"

"I don't know. I-" Keep breathing, that's what he said. She takes a few, panting breaths that don't really seem useful, except maybe if she were trying to show off his her breasts rise and fall. But she's hardly experienced enough to be doing that on purpose yet.

She's just confused and not sure what to do about it. He'd told her before to try touching herself, but it hadn't been like this. This was far more intense, mind blowing. Good yes. She's not wanting to stop, but she has no idea where they should go from here.

"I just..." She reaches out, runs her fingers through his hair. It's tousled, unstyled. She loves it this way. "I just want you. Teach me how. Please."

He smiles, crawling up her body to kiss her lips. "Okay. Just follow your instincts. If you want to move your hips, then move them. If you think it would be hot to touch, then touch."

He kisses her again, lingering there. "Here, we can touch each other. We haven't really explored each other's bodies."

Letting his hands roam, he kisses at her neck, touching her stomach, lingering over her arms, cupping a breast. "You can touch me however you want," he says, his voice breathy and low.

That first kiss is different. She can taste herself on his lips. It's startling, but not repelling.

"Hot?" She says it testingly, the temperature colloquialism unfamiliar to her. But she thinks she understands what he means.

She brings her hands up, laying them first on his shoulders. Her touch is light, sliding down his back on one side, along his arm on the other. She ends up with one hand over his as he cups her breast. Her other trails down his spine, all the way until it begins to turn into the curve of his backside. Her fingertips hesitate, possibly ticking unintentionally.

"Mhmm," he hums against her lips, "Sexy."

He inhales as her hand travels down his spine, and his body twitches as she hesitates, her fingers tickling. He laughs against her cheek. He's terribly ticklish.

"You're tickling me," he tells her, kissing her again. "You can touch me wherever you want, too."

That laugh eases something in her, some tension that was holding her back. It makes her smile, moving her head so she could see his eyes.

"You're ticklish?"

His lips twitch into a smile. "No," he lies badly. Oh God, she's going to exploit this weakness, isn't she?

You betcha.

"No?" The smile on her face is pure wickedness. "Not even...here?" She runs her fingers around to his front, tickling at his abs.

There's not even an attempt at keeping his face straight, he just immediately folds in half and bursts into hysterical laughter. "Ah... you're terrible!" he gasps past his laughter.

She laughs too, mischievous and playful. There's no mercy from her. She pursues him as he tries to twist away from her.

"But you said I could touch you wherever I want." They end up rolled, with her half atop him. She only pauses because she can feel his hardness nudging her near her hip. It reminds her they are naked and she intends to give him her maidenhead. She bites her lip, as the laughter subsides, and then does what he'd instructed her to do. Keeping eye contact with him, she moves her hips, rubbing against him gently.

His laughter subsides when she stops tickling him, and he feels the mood shift. He blinks at her, his mouth falling open as she rubs against him. His hands fall to her hips, and he groans, pushing his hips up against her.

She braces one arm on the bed, holding herself up over him. Her other hand trails down his chest, abdomen, moves to his hip, gently nudge his arm to give her room. Then it moves inward, sliding between them, and laying flat around his length pressing it lightly against her belly. She watches his face as her hand starts to move along his shaft, gliding from base to tip, and back again, the touch light but purposeful.

His head falls back as he arches at her touch. Her touch may be light, but she's doing a pretty good job. It feels intimate, with her touching him like this. He lifts up his head so he can see her again.

"Syeira," he moans. He wants this so much. He wants her so much.

There's something incredibly arousing about watching him like this; powerful, seductive. She realizes that she could easily be contented to just bring him pleasure like this. Seeing him so vulnerable, enjoying her touch like this, it's a heady thing.

She wraps her fingers around him, careful not to hold him too tight, and moves her hand again, up and down. Her motions slow and rhythmic.

It feels incredibly good, but he has an agenda here. He lets out a strangled sound, stopping her hand with his own.

"Sorry, I just... I'm gonna come if you keep doing that."

He sits up so he can kiss her, nipping at her lips. "And I still want to make love to you," he whispers against her lips.

"Oh..." She hadn't really thought about that. She'd been too wrapped up in the experience of giving him pleasure to think that far ahead.

"Sorry," she murmurs against his mouth, going in for another kiss. "I got caught up."

She brings her hand up, away from his hardness, since she's been stopped from touching it for now, and cups his cheek. "You're so lovely, I couldn't help myself."

"Me? You're the lovely one," he says, pressing another affectionate kiss to her lips.

"We should use a condom, though... I have one in that black jacket with the gray lining."

Either she can get it, or he can get it. He caresses her thigh with his hand absently, a little embarrassed about the condom.

"I... I was kind of hoping this would happen, so I grabbed one and put it in my jacket here."

"A what now?" Sorry, they don't have that word in Faerun. She's clearly puzzled, so she reaches for his jacket and hands it to him. She wouldn't' know what she's looking for anyway.

"Uh..." He doesn't even know if they're a thing in her world. "Something you put on a cock. It helps prevent sexually-transmitted diseases and... pregnancy."

He tears the wrapper open and pops it out, showing it to her before jacking it into place on his dick.

"It might feel a little strange, but it'll still feel good."

Well, a tiny bit of mystery vanishes from the experience watching him roll a thin sheath over his penis. A thin, wrinkly, vaguely bad smelling sheath. It gets a dubious, puzzled look before she turns her gaze back up at Arthur.

"Um...not that I don't appreciate the gesture but uh...I'm a virgin, Arthur. I don't have any diseases that you could get." She's not going to ask him, but well, the need to know is out there. Because why else would he need to use that?

He lets out a confused breath, his eyebrows furrowing. "I know. I'm clean, too, I promise. I got tested for everything not long before I showed up here, and I haven't had sex since. I just wanted to one, give you the option if you didn't believe me, and two, not get you pregnant."

Because he has no idea that it's different with her half-elfness.

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