That tiny noise she makes has his stomach lurching in kind, rubbing his nose against the side of her face as he builds himself up to go on. He's glad this isn't freaking her out, though maybe it's not what she would have expected of him. He hopes that only makes it sexier.
"First you pet me, then you tug. I whimper, pressing my face into your hip as I wait for instructions. You don't disappoint..." Here's where things are going to get explicit, and he swallows, hooking one leg around hers and stroking up the side of her ribs with his fingertips. The more he can touch and be touched, the less nervous he is to tell her all the dirty things he's been harboring about her for what seems like forever. "You let go and back up, tell me to get naked for you, and climb onto the bed. You look so... regal that way, towering over me as I remove my shirt. You watch me and smirk. I turn red all over, standing up so I can get my pants off. I push my boxers down too and step out, turning in a slow circle so you can look at me. You laugh at me, it makes me hard."
He wonders if this is crossing into romance novel territory yet, knowing he isn't the best storyteller in the world. But maybe that's okay in this instance. He can feel how much this is affecting her, the way she trembles next to him just as sexy as the words at hand. "I kneel back down and wait for you to tell me to join you on the bed, trying to be patient like a good boy but you look good enough to eat... You lean back against the pillows like you've forgotten about me, reaching down to touch yourself through black lace panties. It's torture, watching you when I want to touch. And taste."
He's starting to lose his voice a little, his heart fluttering wildly like a caged bird. He needs to take a break, for a second. His fingers brush against the band of her bra at the same time as he kisses her throat, almost like he's punctuating for the story. His tongue darts out, indeed to taste her, marveling in how sweet her skin actually is, his dreams literally coming to pass.
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"First you pet me, then you tug. I whimper, pressing my face into your hip as I wait for instructions. You don't disappoint..." Here's where things are going to get explicit, and he swallows, hooking one leg around hers and stroking up the side of her ribs with his fingertips. The more he can touch and be touched, the less nervous he is to tell her all the dirty things he's been harboring about her for what seems like forever. "You let go and back up, tell me to get naked for you, and climb onto the bed. You look so... regal that way, towering over me as I remove my shirt. You watch me and smirk. I turn red all over, standing up so I can get my pants off. I push my boxers down too and step out, turning in a slow circle so you can look at me. You laugh at me, it makes me hard."
He wonders if this is crossing into romance novel territory yet, knowing he isn't the best storyteller in the world. But maybe that's okay in this instance. He can feel how much this is affecting her, the way she trembles next to him just as sexy as the words at hand. "I kneel back down and wait for you to tell me to join you on the bed, trying to be patient like a good boy but you look good enough to eat... You lean back against the pillows like you've forgotten about me, reaching down to touch yourself through black lace panties. It's torture, watching you when I want to touch. And taste."
He's starting to lose his voice a little, his heart fluttering wildly like a caged bird. He needs to take a break, for a second. His fingers brush against the band of her bra at the same time as he kisses her throat, almost like he's punctuating for the story. His tongue darts out, indeed to taste her, marveling in how sweet her skin actually is, his dreams literally coming to pass.