Taking The Fields By Storm (Open)

Edy fuck you <3 Edy grinned and immediately shook her head. "Oh you want to talk about foreplay? Tell me more about how you did...anything other than just sit there with a drink in your hand." She chimed brightly, her white teeth snarling through her smile. "Typical man." Edy continued playfully, scrunching her nose at him in mock disdain. "Thinking that getting hard counts as them doing their part." Tsking under her voice the teenager kicked a small rock in her path with the sort of youthful I-can't-be-still-ness for which Edy was known. "mmhmmm." Edy answered easily, missing the annoyance and flare of anger in Koel's tone. Edy might be blunt with her intentions, but Koel was anything but. If he wanted her to stop, he'd need to say so. Having never experienced so much as a crush before, the teenager was woefully in the dark when it came to whatever it was Koel must have been feeling. He was either over Eris or he wasn't, and at the moment his signals were mixed and crossed and all sorts of complicated. Fuck sake. Even his shaky breath was confusing; was the old man having a heart attack or trying to cool his jets? As he moved to meet her Edy felt that familiar and oh-so pleasant rush of heat and adrenaline course through her body. The only thing that ruined the sensation of his lips against hers was the way he cupped her face. The gesture was altogether too delicate and ... romantic for her tastes. With a grin that his lips would easily feel, Edy moved to place her hands on his shoulders, simultaneously swatting away the hand that had come to rest against her cheek. With easy athleticism, Edy pushed down on his shoulders and sprang upwards, meaning to lift herself up into his arms and wrap her legs around his waist. She was light and he was strong, and there was no better combination than that. With no hesitation Edy's movements were fuelled by unfettered and easy desire. There was no slow exploration of her lips upon his, but an immediate devouring of everything that she could get her hands (or mouth) on. Her arms would tangle around his neck and her strong legs would cinch herself against him, as her tongue expertly sought to weave and dance against his, her every action minutely focused solely on riling him up.