crossmyheartandhope | Monster Bingo 3.0 Overflow

[Surely it is? It does prompt a fresh groan straight into his mouth, at least. She immediately rocks up into him, pressing him into the side of the car for better leverage. Her wings continue to ruffle into the touch, tailfeathers shifting]

[This time as the hand strokes downward, it keeps going, skirting from the ing to her tail feathers - tugging lightly]

[His own sound is muffled by her mouth as she presses rocks into him; he flushes, dark, as presses him up against the car, shuddering at the feel of being caught between her and it]

[The groan this time is a little more frantic, and she arches unsubtly closer, trailing her talons down his side and snagging at the waistband of his costume.

Her tailfeathers shift more, as do her legs, spreading to accommodate him. Her skirt isn't much more substantial than his, so perhaps it's not just imagination that she can feel the heat of him where they press together even through the layers]

[There is certainly plenty of heat to feel, and his costume really is very thin; he shivers hard as she presses nearer, painfully aware of the way she spreads her legs]

[He really ought to say that they should get in the car already, but that would mean breaking the kiss, so instead he licks into her mouth, tugging again at her tail feathers]

[She draws him in, sucking harder along with the pull at her tail. Her hands drag down his sides and curl into his hips, holding tight and tugging him closer.

There are probably quite a few things she should say, but words are hard with him warm and solid and alive against her, and a few needy chirrups are all she manages]

[The sound he makes is mostly muffled by the kiss, but not entirely; when she tugs him in against her like that, holding to his hips and pulling him in while her legs are spread that wide, it's impossible to mistake how ready he is]

[He deepens the kiss - can't help but shift a little, restless, even as his hand combs through her tail feathers]

[She returns a low moan and rubs more firmly into the swell of him. Her hips hitch greedily forward, and she brings a leg up to hook around his thigh to get that much closer--pulse pounding through the taut, damp costume fabric.

She fumbles at his obi, mismatched hands shaky and distracted but believing in this noble cause]

[He whimpers, softly, as she rubs up against him; there's not much to either of their costumes, and the thin, wet fabric makes the heat of her painfully evident. He can't quite help the way his hips rock forward against her, but he has the presence of mind to fluff dark when she reaches for his obi, reaching to take hold of her hands]

X-Xia. We gotta -

We gotta get inside.

Mmm...

[At no point does she stop from rocking back to meet him, though she slows a bit from the mindless grind of before. She nips at his chin and up his jawline, and attempts to move her hands to his hips--not to rip open his robes (yet), but to instead push him up into the back seat]

'Kay. Go on...

[He takes a shaky breath in, when she takes hold of his hips - shudders, hard, as she presses him toward the back seat]

Yeah. That's - yeah.

[It takes a herculean effort to pull away, and he groans softly at the loss. He's nothing like graceful as he scrambles in, making space for her to crawl in after]

[She dives in after, barely remembering to close the door after.

It's much more secluded once she does, the beats from the dancefloor and the general hubbub of the crowd barely audible from inside the sealed car, while despite the tinted windows, filtered light streams in from the windshield and moon roof. There might even be fun limoesque controls, though Nemesis doesn't seem at all interested in seeking them out, in favor of scooting against him to pick up where they'd left off]

[He welcomes her eagerly - reaches out to loop his arms around her waist, guiding her down on top of him so they can resume the kiss]

[His hands run restless over her waist and hips and the swell of her breasts - come to a stop at the flare of her tail feathers, tugging gently]

[She curses, breathless, legs spreading and tailfeathers shifting to give him better access--thank goodness for the high slits of the skirt, though it could surely be hiked up more. But when her hands realise they're free, they spend their time exploring his sides and skimming over his chest, clutching greedily where she can]

[It could be hiked up more, and it's not long before it is, one hand tracing the line of her thighs, rucking up the fabric]

[The other hand is busy, still - has settled at the bad of her tail feathers, still tugging lightly]

Jacob...

[Her tail flutters into his touch, wings stretching above them, poking into the front seat and the trunk as she squirms. Even distracted by the run of his hands through her feathers and up her thighs, she at least attempts to give as good as she gets, talons scraping up his hips and snagging in his obi, attempting to tug it loose. Which would probably be a little easier if she weren't in her own way, half climbed into his lap, but what's life without a challenge]

[The obi comes open easily enough, despite the awkward positioning, and when it's moved aside, it's plain that there really isn't much to the costume. Underneath he's bare, a pale swath of freckled skin broken only by the tight black contours of his boxer-briefs, the wet spot above the swell in them sizeable and difficult to miss]

[The hand on her thigh runs higher, over the curve of her hip and the swell of her rear, giving a soft squeeze, the other hand still toying distractedly with her tail feathers]

Y-yeah?

[She groans at the feeling of his hands on her--or perhaps just at the sight of him laid out before her. Either way she wets her lips, hands smoothing greedily over his skin of his chest and the softness of his belly. Her talons curl in as she continues past the delicate skin below his navel and drags her knuckles up the slope of his shorts and down again, as slow and gentle as she can bear]

...Undress me. I-I wanna feel you...

[Her voice is soft and obviously self-conscious, though--for once--she doesn't attempt to hide any more than the deep flush and fogged glasses that already cover her face.]

[He moans, soft and heartfelt, at the feel of her fingers dragging so gently over the front of his shorts - can't seem to help the way he bucks up into the touch, breath stuttering in his throat]

J-jesus. Yeah. I want -

Yeah.

[His hands are trembling a little, against the corset, fumbling to figure out how it's undone. He shifts beneath her as he works, restless and wanting - manages to get the laces undone and begins to work it free, attempting to lift it up and over her head]

[She helps best she can with wings and limbs in the way--which honestly isn't all that helpful at all. It would probably be easier if she could keep her hands off him for longer than five seconds, but that apparently actually is too much to ask given the dig of her teeth into her lip and the luminous gaze sweeping from the pink of his cheeks to the bob of his adam's apple to the full-body tremble beneath him. The backs of her hands follow the same path over his skin, distracted from her own order in favor of getting more of him--rocking against him with purpose]

[He groans softly as she continues to rock against him, shuddering as her hands continue to explore. Through the fabric of his underwear, she can feel the heat of him - the way he twitches, hips rocking shallowly even as he tries to wrestle with the corset]

[If she won't lift her hands up overhead, he has no choice but to undo it entirely - seems to be having trouble concentrating enough to manage, though he finally works it free, tugging it away to discard on the car mats below]

[This is rewarded with a kiss, not that she needs a particular reason to give him one, but he gets a couple regardless, hot and needy and sucking at his tongue. Which again, isn't helping a ton, unless dragging her knuckles up his thighs and down his ribs counts as help, and perhaps it does.

That said, without the girdle it's more obvious that the dress is more apron than anything, open in back for feathers to sprout, and just tied a few places for decency. Decency which is much less necessary now, with her skirts around her waist and easily meeting the shift of his hips. Her hands grip below his thighs before she catches herself, curling her fingers back in for safety.]

[He groans, long and low - catches himself, and flushes dark, trying to tamp down on the sound]

[It's hard, though, with the heat of the kiss and the slow drag of her hands and way she's moving against him - with the skin unveiled now that the girdle is free]

[Still, she asked him to do something, so he reaches for the hem of her skirt, trying to ease it upward to finish undressing her. And if his hands press to her thighs and sides more than strictly necessary along the way - if he grazes over her breasts - surely he can be forgiven for being a little distracted]

[She groans to match, shivering against him before attempting to get him to ramp that sound back up. Her hands run a slow track up and down his thighs, thumbs flicking at his waistband careful over his hipbones, and her feathers rustle as he easily pulls the rest of the dress away.

There's very little underneath: low-slung panties in a shiny bronze color not too different from her skin, and the match to his pendant that she'd worn every day since she'd gotten it, and nothing in between. So it's perfectly obvious that he is more than welcome to be distracted if the distraction means more of his attention, and she finally presses into him, chest to chest]

[His eyes flicker over the newly exposed skin, taking in the view: the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts; the panties, so unlike her usual style, plainly picked for the costume; the necklace, there against her heart, to match the one that rests near his]

[He thinks of her, before this, picking out the panties - thinks about how, if she'd put this much care into them, she must have expected them to be seen. He thinks about her thinking about the necklace, the only part of the costume that doesn't match, and deciding to leave it there regardless]

[All at once, the heat of his desire is all but eclipsed by the new warmth that floods through him, almost unbearably fond, and he reaches out to pull her to him, guiding her in close]

[She flushes at him examining her even as she arches her back a little, angling her head just so to perhaps look more graceful or appealing. Nevertheless she easily lies flush against him, heart pounding in double time compared to his own.

The fact that she can feel his heart in the first place--that the warmth coming from him isn't due to being a tree spirit but just from being here and real and alive--that's still heady and fresh. A pleased noise starts in her chest, and she snakes her arms around him, nosing in even closer]

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis

Re: Nemesis