[It's a shiver that races down her spine, causing her thigh to twitch under his caress, and oh... It's a heady noise, as he gets there quicker than Sypha might have expected, given his tortoise speed earlier, but perhaps it is that shift. No more banter about surrender and gummy armies, or negotiations. He does always seem so poised, almost as if not a hair would be out of place. A tall figure, golden halo of hair and peak physical physique. It is why Sypha likes to see those cracks, to push, although with Trevor is takes far less push to get a reaction. Her boys are both unique in their own ways though, and she loves them for it.
Her pleasure continues to be hummed against his lips, trying to remain still, although those deft fingers of his make it very difficult. And maybe it's her turn to give a little growl of frustration, cursing their attire, but she's almost there, and she's not one to give up. He's helping anyway, which she does take advantage of, arching her own body upwards as he breaks the kiss. She's breathless, flushed, and not ashamed at all by how aroused he has made her. She likes the way her name rolls of his lips, and she releases him before she tugs at the fabric, working his pants down over his hips, down his thighs, and that's good enough, no?
Well, maybe she shouldn't leave it half finished, although she is more than happy to have him right then and there. She can taste him still as her tongue darts across her lips, her heartbeat quick and fast, pulse lively as she pulls as far as she can, leaving them just at his knees.]
There are races where men wear skirt-like clothing.. Perhaps I should look in to that.
[A cheeky grin as she leans forward to plant a light kiss on the tip of his nose. But her expression does soften, those blue eyes warm and welcoming as her face tilts. One hand returns to his hair, and now, surprisingly, it is her turn to shift gears, to tease and toy with small chaste kisses around his mouth.]
They go naked beneath them, you know.
[As her other hand shifts, to run her index finger along his length, circling at the tip, before she takes hold of him again.]
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Her pleasure continues to be hummed against his lips, trying to remain still, although those deft fingers of his make it very difficult. And maybe it's her turn to give a little growl of frustration, cursing their attire, but she's almost there, and she's not one to give up. He's helping anyway, which she does take advantage of, arching her own body upwards as he breaks the kiss. She's breathless, flushed, and not ashamed at all by how aroused he has made her. She likes the way her name rolls of his lips, and she releases him before she tugs at the fabric, working his pants down over his hips, down his thighs, and that's good enough, no?
Well, maybe she shouldn't leave it half finished, although she is more than happy to have him right then and there. She can taste him still as her tongue darts across her lips, her heartbeat quick and fast, pulse lively as she pulls as far as she can, leaving them just at his knees.]
There are races where men wear skirt-like clothing.. Perhaps I should look in to that.
[A cheeky grin as she leans forward to plant a light kiss on the tip of his nose. But her expression does soften, those blue eyes warm and welcoming as her face tilts. One hand returns to his hair, and now, surprisingly, it is her turn to shift gears, to tease and toy with small chaste kisses around his mouth.]
They go naked beneath them, you know.
[As her other hand shifts, to run her index finger along his length, circling at the tip, before she takes hold of him again.]