[that comment pulled a little huff from his lips, something like laughter.]
My apologies, I must seem dispassionate. I'm... less accustomed to matters of intimacy outside of necessity.
[he hadn't had the time to worry about things like his own preferences, the need built up over time dissipated in other ways back on Astra. It perhaps explains a bit of the awkwardness, without going into the full explanation of his mercenary work and the like.
Her lack of concern makes it easier to settle into the act anyway, dispelling some of the stern focus that tends to plague his expression. She settles down—efficiently but not rushing—and Luke makes no effort to pretend he isn't watching. Jisu is beautiful, and he would be blind to think otherwise.]
There is... a little preparation for me, but it's mostly on its own. I'm more interested in making sure you're prepared, and I can use my claws once you're stretched and wet enough.
[He says it as he reaches for the zipper of that ill suited tracksuit he's been given, yellow giving way to pale skin with little dark patches starting around his hips. Built for agility and speed, it seems—and there's little to see at first, even when he shrugs the outfit off.
Just a neat line of chitinous plates covering his front, barely starting to spread in his arousal.]
Please, just do whatever feels natural. I'm sure I'll catch on quickly to what you enjoy.
[His claws aren't sharp, per se, when they find her thigh. A little rough and rigid in their angles, definitely not comfortable to try and actually stretch someone with without some pre-preparation.]
Ah. You're welcome to touch me however you like, as well. I'll be quick to tell you if anything is uncomfortable. [His gaze trails over her—curious more than salacious really, appreciative nonetheless. Fingers curl gently around her thigh to ease it up as suggested, to just... watch her for a moment.
She did offer, after all, and he isn't a saint. Just fairly patient.]
Here's hoping, at least!
My apologies, I must seem dispassionate. I'm... less accustomed to matters of intimacy outside of necessity.
[he hadn't had the time to worry about things like his own preferences, the need built up over time dissipated in other ways back on Astra. It perhaps explains a bit of the awkwardness, without going into the full explanation of his mercenary work and the like.
Her lack of concern makes it easier to settle into the act anyway, dispelling some of the stern focus that tends to plague his expression. She settles down—efficiently but not rushing—and Luke makes no effort to pretend he isn't watching. Jisu is beautiful, and he would be blind to think otherwise.]
There is... a little preparation for me, but it's mostly on its own. I'm more interested in making sure you're prepared, and I can use my claws once you're stretched and wet enough.
[He says it as he reaches for the zipper of that ill suited tracksuit he's been given, yellow giving way to pale skin with little dark patches starting around his hips. Built for agility and speed, it seems—and there's little to see at first, even when he shrugs the outfit off.
Just a neat line of chitinous plates covering his front, barely starting to spread in his arousal.]
Please, just do whatever feels natural. I'm sure I'll catch on quickly to what you enjoy.
[His claws aren't sharp, per se, when they find her thigh. A little rough and rigid in their angles, definitely not comfortable to try and actually stretch someone with without some pre-preparation.]
Ah. You're welcome to touch me however you like, as well. I'll be quick to tell you if anything is uncomfortable. [His gaze trails over her—curious more than salacious really, appreciative nonetheless. Fingers curl gently around her thigh to ease it up as suggested, to just... watch her for a moment.
She did offer, after all, and he isn't a saint. Just fairly patient.]