[He smiles brightly, loving her giggles, kissing her sweetly, taking her face between his hands, abs flexing as he curls up to kiss her more deeply. Her legs wrapping around him just makes him want to be inside her more, and he finds a rocking, grinding rhythm against her, trying to feel out the way to make her hotter, wetter, wanting to feel the dampness between her thighs through the fabric between them.
He slips a hand between her and the mattress, fingers slipping under the waistband of her panties, gripping her ass, sliding the flimsy fabric down to give him better access.]
[She gets lost in those kisses, in the way his hands hold her face, the heat of their bodies radiating between them, building and building. As their bodies rock together, she's getting more breathless, her eyes find it hard to stay open as she feels tiny pulses of pleasure shooting up her spine each time his body grinds against hers. But when his hand slips beneath the lacy fabric of her panties, she gasps into his mouth, back arching so he can keep on moving his hand lower.
Her hands, however, find their purpose at his back. Fingers tracing along his spine, palms brushing against the toned, well-defined muscles there, the feeling of which makes her moan into his mouth.]
[He swallows her moan, returns it with his own, nuzzling her cheek, her neck, breathing in her damp, heady scent. Their hips keep rocking, shifting, and soon they've managed to move themselves to a place where his tip is pressing against her heat, feeling the gentle, teasing friction against him as her panties yield slightly, a promise of penetration.
It drags a rough, wanting sound from him, his lips pressed to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his hips pressing against her again, only building his frustration. He wants to be inside her, doesn't want to pull away from her long enough to rid them of the last of their clothing. He drags a hand along the length of her leg, hooking it more tightly around his waist.]
[God, the sounds he makes drive her almost as crazy as the feeling of him rubbing against her. Her hands cling to his skin, fingertips pressing into his back, dragging down slowly, desperation in every sound she makes, every tiny moan or gasp that tumbles from her lips.
She wants him inside of her, she wants him to pound her into the mattress, that's how much the friction is starting to frustrate her. There's still so much to be done, they have clothes, ugh clothes. So overrated. And the condom, a thought that makes her roll her head to the side, eyes searching for his nightstand before she manages to say in a breathy whisper--] Condoms, Matt, where are they?
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He slips a hand between her and the mattress, fingers slipping under the waistband of her panties, gripping her ass, sliding the flimsy fabric down to give him better access.]
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Her hands, however, find their purpose at his back. Fingers tracing along his spine, palms brushing against the toned, well-defined muscles there, the feeling of which makes her moan into his mouth.]
Reply
It drags a rough, wanting sound from him, his lips pressed to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his hips pressing against her again, only building his frustration. He wants to be inside her, doesn't want to pull away from her long enough to rid them of the last of their clothing. He drags a hand along the length of her leg, hooking it more tightly around his waist.]
Reply
She wants him inside of her, she wants him to pound her into the mattress, that's how much the friction is starting to frustrate her. There's still so much to be done, they have clothes, ugh clothes. So overrated. And the condom, a thought that makes her roll her head to the side, eyes searching for his nightstand before she manages to say in a breathy whisper--] Condoms, Matt, where are they?
Reply
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