Maeve
Maeve doesn't mind the beard. A lot of things she doesn't mind. Like the little hum he rumbles against her clit or his fingers digging into her hip. She's missed him so much. She's missed this. Maeve moans softly, lip catching between her teeth as she starts to rock her hips against his tongue. It's slow and sweet and not at all rushed like it was last time. She sinks into this with him, letting the feeling of his tongue, the heat of his hand on her hip, and the way he loses himself to her completely whisk her away. It's so easy to just let go. Heat sparks in her belly, licking through her veins and speeding up the beating of her heart.
Her nails scratch lightly at his scalp, tugging at his damp curls as her other hand finally releases his wrist. "You can touch anywhere but my cunt." He knows the rules and Maeve is sure he won't dare break them. Not when they have a nice little bet riding on it. She braces her now free hand against his own hip, using it for leverage as she sets a pace for herself, intent on reaching that edge with him between her thighs.
Her nails scratch lightly at his scalp, tugging at his damp curls as her other hand finally releases his wrist. "You can touch anywhere but my cunt." He knows the rules and Maeve is sure he won't dare break them. Not when they have a nice little bet riding on it. She braces her now free hand against his own hip, using it for leverage as she sets a pace for herself, intent on reaching that edge with him between her thighs.
And I was catching my breath
Staring out an open window
catching my death
Staring out an open window
catching my death
