[ He is all too willing to keep touching her. There's nothing he wants more, than to keep touching her. He pushes up on his knees a little, changing the angle slightly, the hand that was over his own crotch moving to wrap one of her thighs over his shoulder before it returns to staving off coming in his pants once more before he gets to discover the feeling of being inside her. His other hand stays on her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers as he dives back between her legs, louder now, wetter, a little more frantic.
He doesn't want to ever have to stop touching her. Now that he knows, what she looks like, smells like, tastes like, what she feels like in his arms, it's hard to even think of having to get out of her bed at some point, go to work and live his life like he doesn't want to live and breathe Isabelle.
If only making her come could be a full-time job.
But as it is, he just dedicates himself to the task, right now, feeling her move more intently, get louder, and pulling on that thread of her control, wanting her to let go of it entirely. He moans against her again, louder this time, panting hard as she rolls her hips, and he drags his lips against her, sucking and licking and kissing.]
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He doesn't want to ever have to stop touching her. Now that he knows, what she looks like, smells like, tastes like, what she feels like in his arms, it's hard to even think of having to get out of her bed at some point, go to work and live his life like he doesn't want to live and breathe Isabelle.
If only making her come could be a full-time job.
But as it is, he just dedicates himself to the task, right now, feeling her move more intently, get louder, and pulling on that thread of her control, wanting her to let go of it entirely. He moans against her again, louder this time, panting hard as she rolls her hips, and he drags his lips against her, sucking and licking and kissing.]