[ despite his best efforts, when tseng pulls back just enough from the kiss to say, ] Yes, Aerith, [ he sounds… affected. this would be easier if he could pretend she isn’t getting under his skin, if he could keep his voice steady and smooth and flat the way it is in normal life. but no—there’s no chance of that, not anymore. any chance of that fled the room the moment her fingers slipped inside his underwear.
he’ll let her speak, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop. tseng’s fingers rock faster to meet the needy little movements of aerith’s hips, keeping the heel of his hand pressed against her clit to give her something to grind against; his other hand stays steadying against the back of her neck, holding her close as their noses brush together.
this is a bad idea, but tseng’s pretty sure it’s among the best bad ideas he’s ever had.
between the way aerith’s breathing keeps pitching up into soft moans, the slide of her hand over tseng’s cock, and the increasingly tight, wet heat of her cunt, tseng doesn’t think there’s much of a chance he’s going to emerge from this without making a mess of aerith’s hand and possibly skirt, too. it’s like a train with its brake lines cut, rushing headlong into mutually assured destruction. he can’t look at her when she comes, but he still wants desperately to feel it. ]
no subject
he’ll let her speak, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop. tseng’s fingers rock faster to meet the needy little movements of aerith’s hips, keeping the heel of his hand pressed against her clit to give her something to grind against; his other hand stays steadying against the back of her neck, holding her close as their noses brush together.
this is a bad idea, but tseng’s pretty sure it’s among the best bad ideas he’s ever had.
between the way aerith’s breathing keeps pitching up into soft moans, the slide of her hand over tseng’s cock, and the increasingly tight, wet heat of her cunt, tseng doesn’t think there’s much of a chance he’s going to emerge from this without making a mess of aerith’s hand and possibly skirt, too. it’s like a train with its brake lines cut, rushing headlong into mutually assured destruction. he can’t look at her when she comes, but he still wants desperately to feel it. ]