[She writhes as his hands skim down, smirk growing wider as he explores. That small hitch in her breath as his hands grasp turns deeper as he teasingly grinds against her. It's her own rolling reply, body answering body, giving him his own hint of things to come.]
I want more than a taste...
[Although she does let him come to her, before pressing her lips against his, tongue darting out to chase the traces of it.]
no subject
I want more than a taste...
[Although she does let him come to her, before pressing her lips against his, tongue darting out to chase the traces of it.]