[ Never mind that he's referring to an entirely separate context. Currently, no one knows that better than Felicia: Peter running his mouth without quipping a mile a minute. Rather, he's making use of some other talents, here... unrelenting as the live collapse of Felicia's walls entices him further. Proverbial walls, though. Any veneer of composure, coolness, the advantage she constantly holds over Peter, is gone without a trace. She can put herself at ease, this way, letting Peter take it from here, the spider more than equipped to take what the cat dishes out.
Because certainly, he quirks a brow once Felicia starts bucking her hips up, pressing herself against his face while he's trying to eat her out and finger her simultaneously. He doesn't consider it an obstacle, however, but a sure sign of a job well done. Of progress. And the recognition esteems him to take what's so "pent up" within Felicia and cause the dam to break. Peter takes it upon himself to intensify his every gesture, lips pressed harder now against her clit, tongue occasionally flitting out to lap up the same spot. As these intervals impress upon Felicia above, fingers below work to take her to that inevitable destination. For variety's sake, Peter sacrifices power for speed, the initial forcefulness of his hand's every thrust now giving way to a rising frequency, sure to impose a sensation on Felicia's slit as his hand - relentless - drags fingers in and out without fail. ]
Oh, you can count on it.
[ With great power comes great responsibility, after all. And if Peter's got the power to make Felicia see stars-- send her reeling in the tempest of her own orgasm, it's his responsibility to make it so. Look, count on Peter to contrive a way to translate his moral code into pleasing a woman, alright? That's still more than can be said for certain other vigilantes, not to beat a dead horse... or bat, with this joke.
The moral principle in question is at least backed up by its practical application. Peter knows Felicia's close, can feel it in every twitch of her body, hear it in her every pained whimper. It's a rare spectacle to witness, her having come undone this way. It's almost... gratifying, though not as some form of petty satisfaction. Gratifying because it's so authentically her, unafraid to let herself be so vulnerable before him. It's a remarkable change from the way they started, long ago, and Peter cherishes this. That's why he takes it so seriously, having contemplated earlier on this night just how much of himself he can open up to her again.
In seeing this through to the end, taking Felicia closer and closer to that desperately desired edge... Peter reaches a new resolve. Felicia's well worth the risk of vulnerability. The risk of exposure.
And Peter's gonna fight for every chance to swing by her side… especially if it means more coffee dates.
But that’s the thing, right? Peter wants to make this worth Felicia’s while, but sometimes that also entails taking risks, as Felicia herself might. Going out on a limb to try something venturesome, daring, and slightly risqué… though in this case, subtlety’s out the window.
And in Peter’s case, so’s any more of that contact— of the sustained motions of his lips, tongue, and fingers that worked so steadfastly in concert, all to take Felicia closer and closer to her climax. Rather than take Felicia to that desired edge now, Peter conjures an entirely different edge for the time being… conjures it by ceasing operations, doing nothing. Lips, still pressed against Felicia’s folds, remain closed and stationary. Fingers, still deep within Felicia’s walls, lie dormant and still.
All unmoving, and cruelly, excruciatingly so.
Peter’s silent smile, here, is almost as provocative as a quip. ]
no subject
[ Never mind that he's referring to an entirely separate context. Currently, no one knows that better than Felicia: Peter running his mouth without quipping a mile a minute. Rather, he's making use of some other talents, here... unrelenting as the live collapse of Felicia's walls entices him further. Proverbial walls, though. Any veneer of composure, coolness, the advantage she constantly holds over Peter, is gone without a trace. She can put herself at ease, this way, letting Peter take it from here, the spider more than equipped to take what the cat dishes out.
Because certainly, he quirks a brow once Felicia starts bucking her hips up, pressing herself against his face while he's trying to eat her out and finger her simultaneously. He doesn't consider it an obstacle, however, but a sure sign of a job well done. Of progress. And the recognition esteems him to take what's so "pent up" within Felicia and cause the dam to break. Peter takes it upon himself to intensify his every gesture, lips pressed harder now against her clit, tongue occasionally flitting out to lap up the same spot. As these intervals impress upon Felicia above, fingers below work to take her to that inevitable destination. For variety's sake, Peter sacrifices power for speed, the initial forcefulness of his hand's every thrust now giving way to a rising frequency, sure to impose a sensation on Felicia's slit as his hand - relentless - drags fingers in and out without fail. ]
Oh, you can count on it.
[ With great power comes great responsibility, after all. And if Peter's got the power to make Felicia see stars-- send her reeling in the tempest of her own orgasm, it's his responsibility to make it so. Look, count on Peter to contrive a way to translate his moral code into pleasing a woman, alright? That's still more than can be said for certain other vigilantes
, not to beat a dead horse... or bat, with this joke.The moral principle in question is at least backed up by its practical application. Peter knows Felicia's close, can feel it in every twitch of her body, hear it in her every pained whimper. It's a rare spectacle to witness, her having come undone this way. It's almost... gratifying, though not as some form of petty satisfaction. Gratifying because it's so authentically her, unafraid to let herself be so vulnerable before him. It's a remarkable change from the way they started, long ago, and Peter cherishes this. That's why he takes it so seriously, having contemplated earlier on this night just how much of himself he can open up to her again.
In seeing this through to the end, taking Felicia closer and closer to that desperately desired edge... Peter reaches a new resolve. Felicia's well worth the risk of vulnerability. The risk of exposure.
And Peter's gonna fight for every chance to swing by her side… especially if it means more coffee dates.
But that’s the thing, right? Peter wants to make this worth Felicia’s while, but sometimes that also entails taking risks, as Felicia herself might. Going out on a limb to try something venturesome, daring, and slightly risqué… though in this case, subtlety’s out the window.
And in Peter’s case, so’s any more of that contact— of the sustained motions of his lips, tongue, and fingers that worked so steadfastly in concert, all to take Felicia closer and closer to her climax. Rather than take Felicia to that desired edge now, Peter conjures an entirely different edge for the time being… conjures it by ceasing operations, doing nothing. Lips, still pressed against Felicia’s folds, remain closed and stationary. Fingers, still deep within Felicia’s walls, lie dormant and still.
All unmoving, and cruelly, excruciatingly so.
Peter’s silent smile, here, is almost as provocative as a quip. ]