we write out the ends on our palms, then forget to read
Flora preens at Danta's praise, the knowing smirk on her lips widening as she watches him through the mirror. "I do like hearing it, though," she purrs, letting her hands wander over her own hips, stretching out with an exaggerated roll of her shoulders. The soreness is already settling in, a dull ache unfurling in her lower back, and she huffs a breath of laughter as she presses her palm against the muscles, rubbing at the tension she can feel forming. "Gods, that’s a workout. No one warns you about that part." Removing the clips of the strap-on, she lets it fall onto the bed.
Her aqua gaze flickers back to Danta as he turns to face her, and though heat still hums low in her belly, the weight of his offer makes her hesitate. It’s not that she doesn’t want it—gods, she's more than just a little turned on by now—but something about it feels… different. This was supposed to be practice, a lesson, and what they’d done had felt, if not impersonal, then at least detached enough that she could justify it. But this? Letting him between her thighs, feeling the full weight of pleasure that he could give her, not the other way around?
That, she thought, might actually be cheating.
So, instead, she grins, tilting her head as she reaches out, trailing her fingers over Danta’s cheek in an affectionate, teasing caress before tapping a single finger against the tip of his nose. "Tempting," she muses, voice a little huskier than before, a little less steady. "But I think I got what I came for." A slow, wicked smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. "Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, babe."
With that, she stretches languidly before slipping from the bed to grab for her discarded clothes. "But gods, I need a drink after that. Maybe a massage."
Her aqua gaze flickers back to Danta as he turns to face her, and though heat still hums low in her belly, the weight of his offer makes her hesitate. It’s not that she doesn’t want it—gods, she's more than just a little turned on by now—but something about it feels… different. This was supposed to be practice, a lesson, and what they’d done had felt, if not impersonal, then at least detached enough that she could justify it. But this? Letting him between her thighs, feeling the full weight of pleasure that he could give her, not the other way around?
That, she thought, might actually be cheating.
So, instead, she grins, tilting her head as she reaches out, trailing her fingers over Danta’s cheek in an affectionate, teasing caress before tapping a single finger against the tip of his nose. "Tempting," she muses, voice a little huskier than before, a little less steady. "But I think I got what I came for." A slow, wicked smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. "Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, babe."
With that, she stretches languidly before slipping from the bed to grab for her discarded clothes. "But gods, I need a drink after that. Maybe a massage."
