[She has to know, by now, what whispering his name like that does to him. He breathes hard while her mouth starts to travel down his neck -- not that he needs to, it just feels like the appropriate response. His hand has found its way between her thighs again, the soft warmth there, and he lingers there while her hips roll against him a few times before he asks:]
Wouldja go down on us, love? [She was so clever about it last time. Suddenly, he's craving it again, his hand moving to undo the button of his jeans.]
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Date: 2018-06-15 09:13 pm (UTC)Wouldja go down on us, love? [She was so clever about it last time. Suddenly, he's craving it again, his hand moving to undo the button of his jeans.]