i'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck
Making no attempt to play coy or otherwise tease the Remedy, the aviator does his best to attune himself to the signals of her body whilst writing endless apologies against her clit for having the boyish audacity to have cum first. Every flinch of her leg draws a hum of approval from his lips, the reverberations of which he's sure she'll feel if the sound of it is drowned out by the water.
His fingertips tease their way down the backs of her thighs in slow, measured lines, as if digging a path for her orgasm to move through. Wishing he could tell her how beautiful she was, how much he wanted her, how much he loved her (oops, already did that), the aviator threw himself into his ministrations wanting only to make her feel as good as she'd allowed him to feel, and, selfishly, to perhaps hear his name slip again from her lips.
His fingertips tease their way down the backs of her thighs in slow, measured lines, as if digging a path for her orgasm to move through. Wishing he could tell her how beautiful she was, how much he wanted her, how much he loved her (oops, already did that), the aviator threw himself into his ministrations wanting only to make her feel as good as she'd allowed him to feel, and, selfishly, to perhaps hear his name slip again from her lips.
.
