EVEREST
"Well," Pulling back enough to gaze down at Isla, the aviator's eyebrows rise towards his curls as he tilts his head slightly. "What if we play a game of hot and cold? At least that will stop me from getting too off track." Ever suggests, and as he does so his fingers melt into feathers that brush lightly against Isla's skin, stroking up from her hip toward the swell of her breasts.
Pushing himself off the bed slightly, Everest begins to trail kisses down the column of Isla's neck toward her chest. Nipples—and breasts in general—he knew could be sensitive, but gods if he hadn't heard a thousand competing stories about the best ways to touch them. So, as any academic might, he tests what he'd heard, by first kissing one of Isla's nipples. Only...it was more like a peck; the sort of kiss you'd plant on the cheek of an older aunt at some family reunion.
Pushing himself off the bed slightly, Everest begins to trail kisses down the column of Isla's neck toward her chest. Nipples—and breasts in general—he knew could be sensitive, but gods if he hadn't heard a thousand competing stories about the best ways to touch them. So, as any academic might, he tests what he'd heard, by first kissing one of Isla's nipples. Only...it was more like a peck; the sort of kiss you'd plant on the cheek of an older aunt at some family reunion.
the boards will still creak
the leaves will still die
the leaves will still die
