[imeeji] INBOX

[constellationprize]

Hi! This is ☆radia! I'm really sorry I wasn't able to answer your call... Um, if you need anything, it's fine to leave a message here! I'll answer you as soon as I can!
 

[ for phonecalls and texts ]

Comments

Re: nsfw, day 167, post-maid live

[maidenheaven]

You did.

[ still with a smile gracing his lips even as his gaze drops to her injury; and then, he tips his head down, letting his fingers - thinner, no less calloused - trail to her collarbone and shoulders, to help pull the blouse off of herself, at the same time that he kisses her - with purpose, to distract her ]

Re: nsfw, day 167, post-maid live

[constellationprize]

[ with the blouse more or less off, open and low on her shoulders, she reaches to let her arms rest over his shoulders - it's slight, but there's a desperation to the way she clings, fervent in her embrace - it needs to be an embrace, it needs to be this sort of embrace, this is the way that she loves him and her hands are to be left out of it, at least at this position,

but the kiss pulls her from those worries successfully and she relaxes as her mouth opens to return it, firmly -

beneath him her thighs rub together idle, in anticipation ]

Re: nsfw, day 167, post-maid live

[maidenheaven]

[ he can feel the urge to press his own thighs together in sympathy, the fuzzy heat that spreads from his face to his chest and shoulders and settles in his belly, leaching to his pelvis, and he tilts his head to better fit their lips together, firmly but slowly shifting to plant a knee between her legs and find balance so he can let his fingers work down from her shoulders to her collarbone, slow in that movement too though it seems less out of consideration and more out of leisurely enjoyment of feeling her flesh underneath him, as though he were savoring every centimeter of her ]

Re: nsfw, day 167, post-maid live

[constellationprize]

[ she sighs sweetly against his lips, fingers twitching behind his back as her hips roll themselves into the firmness of his knee. with what feels like little more than bare skin beneath her underskirt, the heat and moisture pooling at her core is readily apparent where she's connected them.

when was the last time he touched her like this? she's never felt mishandled in his care or in whisky's or anyone else's - if she'd know what that felt like is another question entirely, but neither here nor there. but his touch here, today - in comparison to any other day, in comparison to the last time they were together, its weight and feel and pressure feel altogether different in a way she can't fully conceptualize, less and less so with the haze encroaching on her mind, fingers and lips and tongue and knee so present, so warm, she can only imagine - with decidedly little concern, no matter the degree of burns it'd be a trifle if only he would touch her forever - they'll mark her.

perhaps it's because it's been so long. but mulling it over further, hanging on that idle thought - is that why it's different? has he been studying, practicing - with whisky back, it makes sense he'd want to work hard - and this experience, here, is the fruit of his efforts? it would make sense.

but it isn't right. for him to be the one plying her with attention and affection when it should be the other way around, it isn't appropriate. she wants - if she could - to see him flustered in that way that he gets, crying out the way she imagines that he does with whisky or doodle, to feel him slacken beneath her - her mouth, her fingers - content, at peace. and so she kisses him firmer still - not forceful but passionate, tongue sweeping just briefly across the roof of his mouth to tickle at his palate as she explores, contemplating how to best make it more enjoyable for him, to please him ]