[He adjusts himself as she starts to slide herself down onto his cock, more than happy to relinquish the lead to her for this. Instead, he rakes his now free hand back through his hair in some effort to get it out of his eyes. Not that it does much good; trapped under the helmet of the suit most days, it's taken a tendency to stick up in unruly directions.]
Is that a promise? [He drapes his arm along the rocky edge of the spring and leans back with a satisfied hum. It's clearly a rhetorical question, however, as he doesn't offer her much of a chance to answer directly, keeping her mouth occupied with his fingers- but he suspects neither of them are actually interested in continuing a conversation they both know the words to.
He takes command of the way his fingers push into her mouth, starting a rhythm that should mirror the rock of their hips. Except that he'll leave that to her, whether she matches him or not. He can be patient, and the tempting insinuation of his fingers replaced with his cock is more than enough to keep his desire fed for the time being.]
no subject
Is that a promise? [He drapes his arm along the rocky edge of the spring and leans back with a satisfied hum. It's clearly a rhetorical question, however, as he doesn't offer her much of a chance to answer directly, keeping her mouth occupied with his fingers- but he suspects neither of them are actually interested in continuing a conversation they both know the words to.
He takes command of the way his fingers push into her mouth, starting a rhythm that should mirror the rock of their hips. Except that he'll leave that to her, whether she matches him or not. He can be patient, and the tempting insinuation of his fingers replaced with his cock is more than enough to keep his desire fed for the time being.]