#w4nts

a hum vibrates against her throat, against the organ that was within her mouth, eyes that peer up to look at waylon as those words come, a sparkle that shows in her eyes, her head tilting to meet the hand rested within her hair. she raises, a soft pop as the pressure from her mouth is released, her hand replacing where mouth was -- moving the wetness along waylon's organ with a firm, experienced grip bobbing up & down. no haste, relaxed, in pace.

madisynn smiles, it's tender. there's a fondness in it, a quiet giggle that finally comes. authentic, finding the sentiment somewhat silly in these intimate times. but maybe that was part of her having enough experience to find it silly. ENDEARING, even.

for someone who loves to tease and loves to be teased, percy is easily overwhelmed by intimacy. flings were always easy—when she knows something is solely physical, she has no problem asking for what she wants. but as soon as feelings are involved, she becomes a stuttering mess. like now, soaked from the marks he's scattered across her neck and chest, turning her head to hide her face as his strap sliding into her pulls a breathy moan from her lips. she goes red at the sound, and redder still when his fingers press against her jawline and turn her face back towards his. look at me. the command & his grip only stoke her fire, her pulse rabbiting and her breath catching in her lungs. she's always liked being manhandled, how powerful it feels to be powerless.

she leans into his touch, into the heat of his palms through the lace that adorns her skin. her instinctual response is oh, you don't have to—let me take care of you, handsome, please— but cash is so earnest & his touch so gentle that she can't bring herself to demure. the truth is that as much as feels she doesn't deserve the attention, as much as she feels guilty for liking it, for wanting it, she wants it all the same. she wants to feel pretty, desirable, good.