Boiling Point Kiss Meme

[atyourservices]

Boiling Point Kiss Oh, this person has really done it now! Whether you usually get along like peas in a pod or like cats with their tails tied together, at this moment, you two are really, really arguing. You're hurt, you're angry, you're infuriated! You hate them - but actually, you hate that you love them, because feelings have been growing and shaping up for some time. All this tension, all this anger, it's all about to come to a head. So you do the most natural thing in the world: you kiss them. It's one part getting them to shut up, one part instinct, and one part admitting your feelings. Still, you're not thinking. You're just going on adrenaline. ...that won't stop reality, though, and after the kiss is over, you may just have to fess up about what made you pull (or drag) them in and pucker up. Comment with character, info if you'd like, preferences, and if you'd rather have your character kiss or do be kissed. Reply to others. You can play before and through the kiss, starting with the kiss, after the kiss, whatever you'd like.

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[nulliverse]

[Yes, she can definitely feel his arousal now, so much harder than the rest of him and rubbing insistently between her legs as though searching for what it can't yet reach. It makes her throb, starting at that point of contact and reverberating through her whole body, like she's become a human heart pulsating with the rhythm of his movements. Each throb is deeper and more profound until it leaves being something much like an ache.

Ready or not, she needs this now, so she's going through with it no matter how it ends up feeling. All that talk about screaming, tearing pain is blown out of proportion anyway, she knows it must be. No one would ever get through their first time if it was that awful.]

Oh - [Her little gasp is just barely vocalized when Petre grasps her breast, making her start to writhe beneath him at that new point of pleasure; by the time she's exposed and he's got his mouth on her, the gasps have turned into needy whimpers, her dark nipples hard and stiff and her body shuddering with each curl of his tongue and brush of his lips. She grabs onto the hem of his shirt, starts to hitch it up - you too, Petre. She wants skin touching skin wherever it can.]

[broil]

[The sounds exchanged between them grow more obscene as they move and take step after step; before long Petre's moaning against her whimpers and breathing hard between the wetness of his tongue and lips on her nipples, on her sensitive and soft skin. His back straightens to help the shirt off his back, now revealing a body that's still remarkably young and still growing into full adulthood, more on the skinny side than anything resembling muscle.

He takes the opportunity to start working on her trousers, to unbutton and slide them off her legs, letting every piece of wardrobe flop down on the floor. Only her panties are left now, and he's looking down at her body with something very close to devotion. He may be incapable of loving the person beneath the skin, but his appreciation for bodies - their shine, softness, color and texture - shows plainly on his own features, blue eyes dazed and lips swollen.

Petre tongues the inside of his cheek, runs his hands down her legs, curls his fingers into the waist of her panties, and leaves his lips on her navel. Planting kiss after kiss, preparing her for what comes next when they come off and his breath is hot on her most sensitive spot yet. It's his middle finger that traces gently over her slit.]

You're so wet. [He chuckles, voice lowered to half a whisper. Eying her face like he's trying to ascertain whether she's ready for what comes next.]

[nulliverse]

{She likes how he looks. Not muscular like Martin, but still lean, his skin a pretty pale colour that she'd like to put her lips on at some point. The attention's on her for now, though, and she's not shifting that for anything, not when he's staring at her equally slender and not all that shapely body as though she were some kind of goddess; the soft light in his usually incisive, icy eyes could become addictive if she saw it directed at her too often. There's more danger here than she initially realized, and the appeal has become so blatantly obvious now that she's in right at the deep end that she almost wants to laugh about how long she shoved him away.

She doesn't have time to think about any of it, though, beyond those initial impressions. Because then his mouth is low on her body, so low, and she did not expect this at all. Is this actually happening? Is it a tease? His very breath is a caress that leaves her both boneless and pulled taut with anticipation, so the actual touch - still not firm enough, still not deep enough - makes her arch up off the bed and let out a moan of complaint.]

Get on with it. [Her usual bored, dismissive words turned onto a desperate plea by the twisting upward arc of her voice. God, she needs, she needs so badly. If he stopped now, turned her away, she feels like she could actually sob with the frustration of it.]

[broil]

[This is exactly what he looks for in every partner - the point where they've given themselves almost completely but Petre won't take them just yet. Celeste said no for so long that he wants to prolong this moment, make her squirm and beg properly, a resounding yes against her previous answers. Payback, as he'd call it, and the sweetest kind. All the power in his hands, in what he will or won't do.

With a trill of a laugh in his throat, Petre's lips find her skin, using just the tip of his tongue to trace wet lines on her hips, her inner thighs. His fingers work just enough over her clitoris before he's parting her properly and using his tongue, wide and sudden, to press against her warmth.]

[nulliverse]

[She's just one long, constant shiver as Petre licks at her skin, wave after wave of it, feeling his fingers tease at the epicentre of that throbbing heat and the hot slickness of his tongue but not together. Not how she needs them now that she knows it has to be coming. Her body shifting and, yes, very much squirming under the attention, she lets out an equally steady stream of whimpers and moans that still sound a lot like complaints.

But then he finally spreads her open and:]

Oh my god, ohhhh my god - [Not so much complaining as utterly helpless and lost now, moving instinctively upward to meet his tongue. She's touched herself more than enough times, and it's worked; he's touched her, and it's been good; his tongue touching her has just driven her right to the boiling point faster than she could've imagined possible.]

Right there, Petre, god, don't stop. [Her hands fist and unfist in the sheets before one goes for his hair, holding on tight. She might have to be prompted to beg rather than order, but she's definitely lost.]

[broil]

[He knows exactly what she's feeling (it's a sort of twisted well of knowledge, his gender fluidity, no matter how ignorant he remains in less physical matters), and he knows because he's been in that same position, legs parted while someone's wet, hot tongue made everything so much warmer and slick, insides melting like chocolate beneath your skin. It's different, from woman to man. Both still give him that incomparable sense of power that he so often delights himself with.

It's a slow, thorough lick at first, lips gathering to kiss her lightly before using the tip of his tongue to press and release, circle and stroke. Following the erratic movements of her hips as she writhes, Petre's lips stretch for a light laugh, finger teasing at her entrance before pushing inside. She's wet enough so it shouldn't hurt too much - but that's him thinking she's gone further than that with the other man.]