Hm, [his first response is something close to a chuckle. She wants to hear him say it? His hands slide down her back, coming to a stop at the swell of her backside, over the fabric of her skirt.]
I'd be first in line. [There's something low and gravelly in his voice as he says it, spurred on by the feel of her hands on him, the softness of her skin as he presses little kisses to her breasts, her collarbone.
Yu lets her set the pace, not pushing so much as gently tugging, encouraging each little advance, each exploratory motion. But, speaking of hands-- he squeezes her ass almost reflexively when she grinds down on him, a little groan rumbling out of him at the friction of the motion. It takes him a second to recover from that, and when he does, his face is flushed as he tugs on her skirt and asks,] May I?
no subject
I'd be first in line. [There's something low and gravelly in his voice as he says it, spurred on by the feel of her hands on him, the softness of her skin as he presses little kisses to her breasts, her collarbone.
Yu lets her set the pace, not pushing so much as gently tugging, encouraging each little advance, each exploratory motion. But, speaking of hands-- he squeezes her ass almost reflexively when she grinds down on him, a little groan rumbling out of him at the friction of the motion. It takes him a second to recover from that, and when he does, his face is flushed as he tugs on her skirt and asks,] May I?