[The feather edges forward, searching for the outline of that sensitive nub, through the fabric of the panties. His nails, short and blunt, scratch at the base of her wing]
Could do one more round of pics, if you wanna. S'kinda hard to see your face from back here.
[He doesn't need to see to catch the fresh flush that goes through her, skin and feather alike raising with self-conscious heat]
You want pictures? ...Of us? L-like this?
[Which seems like it should be impetus enough to at least attempt to slow her movements; instead she hitches more into that too-light brush of the feather--arches back squarely against his front with a shaky breath]
[Her eyes lid and she drops her head, flush increasing. This close, he can likely tell the tremble through her frame, or the anticipatory press back into him as he runs back over her wing]
[She warbles out a long sigh, head tipping and wing flexing to give him better access--apparently any apprehensions about fooling around in the photo booth have faded in the face of neck kisses]
[The better access is an invitation if he's ever seen one, so he keeps up the kisses, soft and light]
[Between her legs, the feather creeps upward again, to find the seam of her panties - begins that same flicking motion, as his other hand pets at her wing]
[A fluttery whimper as he continues that mix of very present and barely there contact, and it's not long before her hips fall back into an easy rhythm, nudging up towards the feather and back to close the scant distance between them. The hand at his hip stays there despite the awkward angle, holding gently just to keep the contact]
[He kisses down along her neck - nips at the skin there, soft, even as his breath catches at the way she moves against him]
[Between her legs, the feather creeps forward, searching for that sensitive nub at the front - focuses its attention there, drawing tight circles as his other hand scritches through feathers, nails dragging light against the skin]
[He isn't quite able to stifle a sound, as she rocks against him; he shifts, acutely aware of the way she sounds, and the way she moves, and the hand still on his hip]
[His own hands keep up their work, massaging and teasing in turn]
[It takes her a few rocks before she catches what he's asking, pulling away enough to start up the machine with a whine.
A peppy voice encourages them to get their best shots ready! Xia flares out her wings a bit, feathers ruffling from wingtip to toe. Then she leans back, quite deliberately grinding into the thin fabric of his costume just as the countdown ticks down]
[His mouth comes open a little, in a mostly soundless gasp; it's hard to miss the way his hips judder forward to meet the rocking of her hips. On the screen, his face is flushed and his pupils dilated]
[Off the screen, the feather between her legs finally pulls away, to be replaced with two of his fingers, solid pressure after the endless teasing]
[The hand still on her wings digs in a little more firmly, fingers raking through the feathers as though combing them out]
[She huffs out something like a laugh as she finally gets a rise out of him, and she's soft and yielding as he rocks into her.
Though, this triumph is short-lived as he finally swaps the teasing touches for real ones, and she squawks with surprise. On the screen her eyes go wide, lips parted in a drawn-out cry as she snags herself on the flats of his fingers.]
[She doesn't have to press far; he's as obliging now as he wasn't before, rubbing firm circles against her clit through the sodden fabric of her panties]
[He's more than a little distracted now, by the softness of her - by the way he can't seem to stop shifting against her, restless. In his distraction, he's forgotten about the hand on her wing, which is holding loosely to the base, thumb rubbing an idle back-and-forth]
[He has the presence of mind to nip at her neck again, though, a sharp touch soothed by kisses]
[Even with her wings left to their own devices, she seems plenty occupied with arching between his hand and his front. On screen her head rolls back to rest on his shoulder; her lashes sink low over her dark cheeks flushed dark with each panting breath.
Out of frame, the hand at his hip creeps farther back, squeezing at the meat of his thigh and tugging him more flush against her, apparently happy to urge him as far into distraction as she already is]
[On screen, he has to break off nipping at her neck - gasps, as her hand finds his thigh and draws him nearer. His cheeks are very dark, and the kisses, when he resumes them, are soft but urgent, as though he's trying to cover as much of her as he can reach]
[Below the range of the camera, it's easy enough to tell how distracted he is - how distracted he's been for some time, by the feel of it. His costume is very thin, after all, and the shape of him is evident, hard and straining, as he shifts furtively up against her]
[The hand at the front leaves off its steady circles - begins a slow stroking motion, instead, starting at that sensitive nub and then pressing backward - inward - the kind of motion that would have eased a finger inside, if not for the wet cloth still covering her. When he reaches his goal, he scratches gently with his nails, through the fabric, and then drags it forward again, back up to her clit, only to repeat the same motion]
[She curses, sharp, and rocks up urgently into his hand--rocks back just as hard into his cock, movements not very furtive at all. Her hand grips harder at his leg, tugging him closer to prove out just how thin his costume is--or perhaps just how evident her own interest is.
The camera catches her deep flush and helpless expression as he works her over, though it's not long before she twists to try and meet his lips with her own, even as she continues to squirm against him]
[He makes a soft, wanting sort of sound into the kiss; it isn't entirely muffled by her mouth, and another follows, closer to a whimper, as she rocks back against him]
[He presses into the kiss readily - hungrily - opening his mouth to allow her in. The hand on her wing has begun to pet at the feathers again, decidedly distracted; the one between her legs continues to keep the same path, forward and back, steady and intent through the thin, damp fabric]
[The sound that leaves her mouth is most certainly a whimper. More follow as she arches between the hand in her feathers and the one inbetween her legs, and leak from the kiss as she does her best to lick into his mouth and at the softness of his lips. Despite her enthusiasm, both efforts begin to waver, as she breaks the kiss for breath, and the snap of her hips starts to lose beats against his steady rhythm]
Jacob-- I'm-- Can I--
[She breaks off, biting at her lower lip as she shivers against him, clutching harder at his hips]
[On the screen, the last of the pictures catches the dazed look on his face - the flush that's crept down his neck - the way he's leaning in, as though all he really wants to do is kiss her again]
[He shudders, hard - can't help but press forward into her, one final, restless roll of his hips. Then he bites at his own lip and takes a shaky breath in - leaves off rubbing at her, with obvious effort, as he eases back just a little]
Said... said we were gonna go somewhere else, right?
Re: Nemesis
[The feather edges forward, searching for the outline of that sensitive nub, through the fabric of the panties. His nails, short and blunt, scratch at the base of her wing]
Could do one more round of pics, if you wanna. S'kinda hard to see your face from back here.
Re: Nemesis
You want pictures? ...Of us? L-like this?
[Which seems like it should be impetus enough to at least attempt to slow her movements; instead she hitches more into that too-light brush of the feather--arches back squarely against his front with a shaky breath]
Re: Nemesis
[He flushes, too - ducks his head, a little, embarrassed enough at being called out that his fingers falter to a stop]
It'll only get our faces anyways, right? So it ain't like it's gonna be - y'know.
And, like - only if you wanna. If you ain't feeling it, we can skip it and head out.
Re: Nemesis
...I mean. If that's the picture you want, then...
[She flushes more, embarrassed but not uninterested]
I don't mind, if it's with you.
Re: Nemesis
Okay, then.
Okay. Should we, like...?
Re: Nemesis
...You brought it up in the first place. So--what do you wanna see? When you look at the picture later, what do you wanna think of?
Re: Nemesis
I wanna see what kinda face you're making.
[His hand comes up again, running along the outer line of her wing]
So just - look straight ahead. And do what you're doing. And in a minute, I'll ask you to get the countdown going.
Re: Nemesis
...Okay. I'll--okay.
Re: Nemesis
Cool. Then - cool.
[He hesitates a beat - another, flustered now that it comes down to it]
[At last, careful, he leans in to kiss along the line of her neck as his hand goes back to the base of her wing, kneading softly]
Re: Nemesis
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[Between her legs, the feather creeps upward again, to find the seam of her panties - begins that same flicking motion, as his other hand pets at her wing]
Re: Nemesis
Re: Nemesis
[Between her legs, the feather creeps forward, searching for that sensitive nub at the front - focuses its attention there, drawing tight circles as his other hand scritches through feathers, nails dragging light against the skin]
Re: Nemesis
Eyes lidding, she arches back into him with just as much pressure as the feather doesn't give her, as if craving any contact she can get.]
Cross...
Re: Nemesis
[His own hands keep up their work, massaging and teasing in turn]
That's... that's probly good.
Go on and - and start the countdown.
Re: Nemesis
A peppy voice encourages them to get their best shots ready! Xia flares out her wings a bit, feathers ruffling from wingtip to toe. Then she leans back, quite deliberately grinding into the thin fabric of his costume just as the countdown ticks down]
Re: Nemesis
[Off the screen, the feather between her legs finally pulls away, to be replaced with two of his fingers, solid pressure after the endless teasing]
[The hand still on her wings digs in a little more firmly, fingers raking through the feathers as though combing them out]
Re: Nemesis
Though, this triumph is short-lived as he finally swaps the teasing touches for real ones, and she squawks with surprise. On the screen her eyes go wide, lips parted in a drawn-out cry as she snags herself on the flats of his fingers.]
Re: Nemesis
[He's more than a little distracted now, by the softness of her - by the way he can't seem to stop shifting against her, restless. In his distraction, he's forgotten about the hand on her wing, which is holding loosely to the base, thumb rubbing an idle back-and-forth]
[He has the presence of mind to nip at her neck again, though, a sharp touch soothed by kisses]
Re: Nemesis
[Even with her wings left to their own devices, she seems plenty occupied with arching between his hand and his front. On screen her head rolls back to rest on his shoulder; her lashes sink low over her dark cheeks flushed dark with each panting breath.
Out of frame, the hand at his hip creeps farther back, squeezing at the meat of his thigh and tugging him more flush against her, apparently happy to urge him as far into distraction as she already is]
Re: Nemesis
[Below the range of the camera, it's easy enough to tell how distracted he is - how distracted he's been for some time, by the feel of it. His costume is very thin, after all, and the shape of him is evident, hard and straining, as he shifts furtively up against her]
[The hand at the front leaves off its steady circles - begins a slow stroking motion, instead, starting at that sensitive nub and then pressing backward - inward - the kind of motion that would have eased a finger inside, if not for the wet cloth still covering her. When he reaches his goal, he scratches gently with his nails, through the fabric, and then drags it forward again, back up to her clit, only to repeat the same motion]
Re: Nemesis
The camera catches her deep flush and helpless expression as he works her over, though it's not long before she twists to try and meet his lips with her own, even as she continues to squirm against him]
Re: Nemesis
[He presses into the kiss readily - hungrily - opening his mouth to allow her in. The hand on her wing has begun to pet at the feathers again, decidedly distracted; the one between her legs continues to keep the same path, forward and back, steady and intent through the thin, damp fabric]
Re: Nemesis
Jacob-- I'm-- Can I--
[She breaks off, biting at her lower lip as she shivers against him, clutching harder at his hips]
Re: Nemesis
[He shudders, hard - can't help but press forward into her, one final, restless roll of his hips. Then he bites at his own lip and takes a shaky breath in - leaves off rubbing at her, with obvious effort, as he eases back just a little]
Said... said we were gonna go somewhere else, right?
We probly better get moving.
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