[If someone were to turn the corner and spot them now, it'd be a sight. He's no longer aware of his own movements except that they've got to continue; she moves to meet him every time, and so he moves in turn, and so she does again. They move together, seamless and breathless, and these are the moments, too, when he forgets what the world sounds like without her whimpers echoing in his ears.]
[He wants to touch her more. He wants to touch her everywhere, but he's so caught up in the rhythm and the heat of her and her please. Her nails clawing at his shoulders leave him shuddering and groaning, hiking her up a little further so he can move at a better angle.]
no subject
[He wants to touch her more. He wants to touch her everywhere, but he's so caught up in the rhythm and the heat of her and her please. Her nails clawing at his shoulders leave him shuddering and groaning, hiking her up a little further so he can move at a better angle.]
Like that?