[ she can't say for sure if the excess of her wetness is entirely credited to him, but she doesn't doubt that he's a great contributing factor at this point, that his technique has succeeded plenty in easily riling her, as shyness becomes abandoned for a greedier chase of pleasure. no, she certainly isn't like this, typically a little more reserved when it comes to sex, and yet embracing the fulfillment of these carnal urges now with a complete stranger and feeling all the more lustful for it.
because he's right, isn't he? the mask if meant to shield her identity, just as unknown of a patron as all the rest here. even the fullness of her now exposed breasts shouldn't necessarily be traced back to her, not when the horizonal scar on her skin, tucked beneath the swell of those mounds, remains covered by the bunched fabric of the unitard.
his arm is only a minor barrier in censoring the view but her worries subside the moment his thumb massages over her nipple when he gropes her breast, the point tightening stiffly from his attention, practically begging for the pinch and tug of his fingers.
breathless, she tries to speak, ]
Are you sure no one's gonnaβah...
[ another soft moan spills from her lips, as she earns the direct touch of his fingers to her cunt, the heat of his skin a satisfying blaze that tosses her head back against his shoulders, lips parted with a steady panting as she maintains the forward arch of her hips for him to guide his fingers low.
she thinks of what he'd told her before β he could be anyone she wants or no one at all. in this moment, she's not entirely sure which of those she'd prefer, but she closes her eyes all the same, letting herself abandon tifa lockhart, to feel the anonymity of the mask, to pretend this is the first. ]
Do you ... do you like me like this? [ she whispers between her heavy breaths, the shyness of asking plenty authentic on its own. but she tries it all the same, urged by the stimulation that pulls her away from herself. ] So messy for you...?
no subject
because he's right, isn't he? the mask if meant to shield her identity, just as unknown of a patron as all the rest here. even the fullness of her now exposed breasts shouldn't necessarily be traced back to her, not when the horizonal scar on her skin, tucked beneath the swell of those mounds, remains covered by the bunched fabric of the unitard.
his arm is only a minor barrier in censoring the view but her worries subside the moment his thumb massages over her nipple when he gropes her breast, the point tightening stiffly from his attention, practically begging for the pinch and tug of his fingers.
breathless, she tries to speak, ]
Are you sure no one's gonnaβah...
[ another soft moan spills from her lips, as she earns the direct touch of his fingers to her cunt, the heat of his skin a satisfying blaze that tosses her head back against his shoulders, lips parted with a steady panting as she maintains the forward arch of her hips for him to guide his fingers low.
she thinks of what he'd told her before β he could be anyone she wants or no one at all. in this moment, she's not entirely sure which of those she'd prefer, but she closes her eyes all the same, letting herself abandon tifa lockhart, to feel the anonymity of the mask, to pretend this is the first. ]
Do you ... do you like me like this? [ she whispers between her heavy breaths, the shyness of asking plenty authentic on its own. but she tries it all the same, urged by the stimulation that pulls her away from herself. ] So messy for you...?