Can't touch me, like Gojo—Look good in all my photos
She gleams like a polished pearl finally freed from an oyster the moment all her clothes part from her. He has to take a moment to indulge in the sight of her, but it isn’t long before his hands grow jealous of his eyes and join in the surveying. Thumb and forefinger lead the charge of his palm as he glides up the dangle of her leg from calf to hip, the touch almost too firm in its hunger, especially as it settles snug and possessive in the crook of her inner thigh.
His other hand is undoing his own pants about the time the fish flops into the way. A low chuckle slips past as he nudges the fight and his remaining fabric away together. ”Only wanted to know what pace I was setting baby girl,” he informs her, a rogue’s grin claiming his lips the moment the words die out.
”Slow.” The speed of his voice matches, the word drawn out like syrup as his thumb tucked against her leg reaches out and rolls gently against her clit. ”Soft,” he offers, the words barely spoken compared to breathed, and his touch upon her matching as it becomes little more than a ghosting graze between her legs. ”Fast,” he wonders, the word given like a whipcrack as his thumb slides hurriedly down from her clit to the warmth below, already slick with want. ”Hard?” He pushes his thumb into her, curling up and pressing into the seat of his fingers as they now fold over her from above.
His other hand is undoing his own pants about the time the fish flops into the way. A low chuckle slips past as he nudges the fight and his remaining fabric away together. ”Only wanted to know what pace I was setting baby girl,” he informs her, a rogue’s grin claiming his lips the moment the words die out.
”Slow.” The speed of his voice matches, the word drawn out like syrup as his thumb tucked against her leg reaches out and rolls gently against her clit. ”Soft,” he offers, the words barely spoken compared to breathed, and his touch upon her matching as it becomes little more than a ghosting graze between her legs. ”Fast,” he wonders, the word given like a whipcrack as his thumb slides hurriedly down from her clit to the warmth below, already slick with want. ”Hard?” He pushes his thumb into her, curling up and pressing into the seat of his fingers as they now fold over her from above.
Kaisel
Sexy jutsu, I feel like Naruto—Fightin' demons in my head like I'm Itadori
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
