[ He returns her gaze with equal intensity, sharing the same recognition of what's possible between them. What they're both willing to accept from each other as the night passes, what it is that criminally, they've been holding back for far too long. It goes without saying at this point, the circumstances that have stayed their hands one too many times. Disappointment, the fear of hurting each other, the longing for what once was and what could be... all there, floating between them.
Waiting to be dismissed by the power of these stolen moments. ]
To give me everything you've got. Or at least a little bit of it.
Not even gonna look at my Calendar app to make sure.
[ Even now, Peter can't help a little silliness. Some levity he can never do without, despite the focus he devotes to discarding his clothes. The shirt was one thing, easy enough to remove. But the pants... well, Peter thought he had it covered, but Felicia made her swift and decisive intervention. Down came the boxers, still within said pants, to free Peter from the waist down, revealing what can only be said to have the proportional size of... a man. A man's cock, with absolutely no hint of spider as a required prefix.
(Not that Felicia required confirmation)
In eager anticipation, he can only watch as Felicia roams his body, a hand gently appraising his length. Though he hardens against her hand, less from a consistent sensation that her touches bring forth - more from the expectation of more to come, he's not disappointed to watch her climb him. Doing so... steadily. Dragging herself across his body, pressing her own softness against the firmness of his torso. Making him aware of every inch of her, every part of her she's now offering up to him on a silver platter.
Though it doesn't surprise him per se, he nearly gasps at the intensity with which Felicia smothers him, every kiss a burdensome gesture of her own affection. This, however, is a burden Peter's happy to carry. To share. And he shares it by replying with his own kisses, pressing his lips against hers with equal fervor. An utter and intense interest in Felicia that guides not only his every kiss, but also every touch of his hands, venturesome as they roam her exposed back. Wanting to massage her, caress her, hold her still-- just. Touch her.
He wants to return the favor, remembering what she did to get a rise out of him. So while Felicia's clambered on top of him, legs spread only just so, Peter relinquishes a hand from her back to slip it between her legs. To begin stroking her folds with his fingertips, insinuating his own inclination to venture further, deeper, at her behest. But more than that, he's content to drag two fingers down her slit, surveying any evidence of her own interest. ]
Sorry... [ Part of him fears he might be acting too soon. As if for now, kissing might be enough. ]
no subject
[ He returns her gaze with equal intensity, sharing the same recognition of what's possible between them. What they're both willing to accept from each other as the night passes, what it is that criminally, they've been holding back for far too long. It goes without saying at this point, the circumstances that have stayed their hands one too many times. Disappointment, the fear of hurting each other, the longing for what once was and what could be... all there, floating between them.
Waiting to be dismissed by the power of these stolen moments. ]
To give me everything you've got. Or at least a little bit of it.
Not even gonna look at my Calendar app to make sure.
[ Even now, Peter can't help a little silliness. Some levity he can never do without, despite the focus he devotes to discarding his clothes. The shirt was one thing, easy enough to remove. But the pants... well, Peter thought he had it covered, but Felicia made her swift and decisive intervention. Down came the boxers, still within said pants, to free Peter from the waist down, revealing what can only be said to have the proportional size of... a man. A man's cock, with absolutely no hint of spider as a required prefix.
(Not that Felicia required confirmation)
In eager anticipation, he can only watch as Felicia roams his body, a hand gently appraising his length. Though he hardens against her hand, less from a consistent sensation that her touches bring forth - more from the expectation of more to come, he's not disappointed to watch her climb him. Doing so... steadily. Dragging herself across his body, pressing her own softness against the firmness of his torso. Making him aware of every inch of her, every part of her she's now offering up to him on a silver platter.
Though it doesn't surprise him per se, he nearly gasps at the intensity with which Felicia smothers him, every kiss a burdensome gesture of her own affection. This, however, is a burden Peter's happy to carry. To share. And he shares it by replying with his own kisses, pressing his lips against hers with equal fervor. An utter and intense interest in Felicia that guides not only his every kiss, but also every touch of his hands, venturesome as they roam her exposed back. Wanting to massage her, caress her, hold her still-- just. Touch her.
He wants to return the favor, remembering what she did to get a rise out of him. So while Felicia's clambered on top of him, legs spread only just so, Peter relinquishes a hand from her back to slip it between her legs. To begin stroking her folds with his fingertips, insinuating his own inclination to venture further, deeper, at her behest. But more than that, he's content to drag two fingers down her slit, surveying any evidence of her own interest. ]
Sorry... [ Part of him fears he might be acting too soon. As if for now, kissing might be enough. ]
I just saw an opening.
[ Yeah, there's no justifying that joke. ]