𝐥𝐢𝐚

Imagine being a history teacher with Ryland Grace at the same school. The two of you are teaching different subjects, and being the two "coolest" teachers according to the students. He presents chemistry, physics and math to the kids, while you tell how humanity evolved to reach the present days.

Work is separated, until the time your plans intersected in an interdisciplinary activity: The history of chemistry and its use in society, Ryland will teach about the elements, Linus Pauling's diagram, atomic layers, and what happens if an atom is split, and of course, how did humans manage to go to space.

Meanwhile you will tell them about the people involved in the story of science: Marie Curie, Yuri Gagarin, Valentina Tereshkova, Henrietta Lacks, and many other figures, both the teachers might think it's important to bring up.

The two of you are now in the same room, almost every day, alternating between theirs; decorated with posters, antique items proudly bought in antique shops, slightly dubious replicas and collector's items, even though you never let the students touch the British helmet from the First World War, and even less the typewriter.

Or else, in Grace's room, with the mobile of planets and the things preserved in jars of formaldehyde; some animals, and also, according to him, eggs and pasta whose animals the children still try to guess to this day.

And these are, of course, the most chaotic and fun moments between you; the classes are almost always expository and full of questions. There's almost always a thirty-minute window answering and talking about things that diverge from the subject:

"How does a microwave work?"

"Is the mustard we eat the same as the gas?"

"How do you split an atom?"

After a week, the conversation finally gets to the main point. After Ryland explains about nuclear energy and technological advancements, you explain the "Belle Époque" and then the uses of chemistry in the First and Second World Wars. And a little surprise, of course.

The tables are all arranged in a circle, spaced apart from the one in the center. On top of it, magnesium and a blowtorch. They couldn't simulate an explosion for safety and career reasons (it's bioethics, perhaps?) and Ryland suggested something much better: the glow responsible for camera flashes and fireworks, using magnesium and fire.

"Look, I'm going to turn off the light, and you all? Don't look at this for too long, unless you want to go blind." —You say in an animated tone, but Grace gives you a disapproving look for your approach. He continued with the activity, however, a small damage control measure enough to assure the children that they wouldn't go blind.

"Oops, hold on there, my friend! Nobody's going to go blind in my class. I calculated everything." —Grace stated as he picked up the magnesium strip with long metal tweezers; the small piece would be enough to impress them. Usually when you're a child, everything is impressive, as long as it's bright and unusual.

"This here is a magnesium strip. You remember what I said, you know it doesn't react well with fire or water." —He explained, his free hand sliding to her waist and pulling you away from him before picking up the fire source.

"See, the metal will combust when it reacts with the air." —Grace announces, bringing the metal closer to the flame, and quickly raises his arm away from his own face, and away from you. —The blinding white light suddenly appears, lasting long enough for a chorus of awestruck voices to fill the classroom.

The light is bright, you blink for a long second, some children look away, half-closed eyes; all focused, however, on the small redox reaction happening in Grace's hand.

And when the light ceased? A silence filled the room, everyone amazed by the sudden reaction.

"That's it, kids, that's how fireworks work." — you say with a smile, watching as Ryland rigorously follows safety protocols while putting away the materials again. His face proud at the work done; experiments and hands-on lessons were always his favorite part; it was stressful preventing them from smelling, mixing, or touching the lab objects, but having you there made it easier, and much more fun.

"Now, let's move on to the reports; I want you all to calculate the oxidation-reduction number of magnesium, I've already written the values on the board, answer them when I get back." —Ryland announced, walking to the door while carrying the box with the lab items. The excitement suddenly dropped and some loud complaints were heard as the students grabbed their notebooks.

But now interdisciplinary activities are a mandatory between the two of you.

𝒮𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝓐fter Rocky asked about watching human reproduction in pratice, Ryland decided to record it instead.

𝓦𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝓤nprotected sex, creampies, sexual description, non-revised content

𝓐𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: 𝓣he idea for the title came because I saw Gustavo Cerati singing Cancion Animal and he was just SO cunty when doing it that I couldn't chose anything else other than his freakiest song.

𝓝𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝒞𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝓢𝐨𝐝𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐨

“How do humans reproduce, question?”

The question came suddenly, at a moment when Rocky and [Name] were with Grace at his house. The comfortable silence that the three had created in Ryland's room was broken by unconventional curiosity.

“Rocky, we've talked about this before,” Grace replied, avoiding looking at the small creature. Questions like “where do babies come from?” were common for him, but it was difficult to lie or use analogies when it came to explaining such a subject to an extraterrestrial being who was clearly not at all naive.

Back in Hail Mary, the fateful conversation had already taken place on different days and in different ways, going from the basics; reproduction, genes, organs and their functions, to broader topics; sexuality, sensuality, and the importance of emotional bonding. Often avoiding the more graphic details, either out of embarrassment or because they weren't necessary, since the two had imagined that this alone would be enough to answer the questions.

Which clearly wasn't the case.

“Grace, [Name] explain theory, theory is different from practice.” —Rocky stated, his melodic noises higher and slightly sharper. “Rocky wants to know how human reproduction works in practice, statement.”

“Rocky…look, we can’t just call you to watch, it’s not that common even among humans.” Grace said awkwardly, still looking at everything but Rocky. Eventually, his eyes met [Name]’s, who seemed interested in the embarrassing situation he found himself in again. “Grace, [Name], are the only humans on Erid, no one else will see.” —The creature retorted, with no intention of so easily giving up on his original idea. “Rocky will see for science, no share with other scientists.” He said again, the melody of his voice now softer, stating that for him, there was no harm in it, after all, what else would he do? The three had already spent so much time together at Hail Mary that this brief moment would be awkward, but definitely nothing too absurd when you consider the whole context they were in. There were no other people, and any information about things they did there would never reach Earth; still, the suggestion was somewhat uncomfortable simply because they were being watched by something non-human.

“Listen—” Ryland began, raising his index finger as he always does when reprimanding or explaining something to someone. “I know we’re friends and all, but I’m not going to let you see us like this.”

“Is any other way for Rocky to see human reproduction, question?” —The creature asked, accompanied by the soft sound of its hind paw stomping the ground twice, completely ignoring Grace’s denial; Rocky wouldn’t leave the poor thing alone until he found a way to at least learn a little bit.

Grace sighed loudly, running a hand over her face in frustration as she listened to Rocky's chirping and [Name]'s low laugh at the whole situation; it was more nervousness than anything else. “Can we think about this alone?” Ryland asked, both hands on his hips as he looked at the two thoughtfully.

“Yes, yes, yes! Rocky come back when Grace have answer!” the little being exclaimed, and quickly left Ryland's room. The loud sound of the door closing indicated his complete departure.

As soon as they were alone, [Name] turned to speak to him. “Grace, look—” she said, the scientist's voice cutting through her; clearly leaving no room for discussion.

“We're not going to do this, not in front of Rocky,” Ryland said, then hid his face in one hand. “And he's not going to give up that easily, that's the problem.” —He recalled, knowing how stubborn their little extraterrestrial friend was. “We can’t just show a scene from a movie because they’re all too tame, and not a porn movie, they don’t even really have sex!” Grace continued arguing, talking to himself worriedly and even slightly agitated by the fact that there weren’t many ways to deal with it.

“Why don’t we make our own video then?” [Name] suggested, seeing how worried Grace seemed when there was a simple way to solve all this. —Hearing her answer, Ryland turned his head quickly, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She chuckled softly at his reaction, leaning a little closer to continue her idea. “Those amateur videos that couples make, you know? Maybe we could make one, we still have those cameras we used on the spaceship to record the videos.”

୨ৎ

The framed image was slightly grainy, affected by the long time it had been unused, and by being in a denser and much warmer atmosphere. On the small glass screen, Ryland's face filled the entire space, looking at the lens with his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Is this thing working?" Grace asked, looking back at [Name], who was sitting a little behind him, and replied with something that the audio didn't fully capture, but by the way he put the camera back, she had confirmed that he was indeed recording. Several days had passed since the decision was made, but only now had they remembered to make the recording, causing Ryland to interrupt their makeout session to start registering everything.

The screen was partially off-center, the surface of the mattress unable to maintain stability. But it was possible to see them clearly; Grace was already half-naked, dressed only in his boxers, while [Name] wore nothing but one of his T-shirts; the black color already faded, with "I had potential" written in white letters.

Having made sure that everything was in place, Ryland returned to bed with quick steps, crawling back to lean over his lover. —The heat of Grace's kisses completely enveloped [Name]'s lips; his hands moved from her face to her body, palms covering the soft flesh of her breasts and squeezing it gently. He longed for the warmth of her skin, and now touched her directly, underneath the soft fabric of [Name]'s clothes, his slow rhythm matching the movements of the kiss.

Grace's hand slid from [Name]'s breasts to her sex, which, under his fingers, was already ready to be explored by him. His fingers played with the sensitive skin, sinking into the inner heat and then returning to feel the small pleasure zone above. He remained like that for a while, sinking his fingers in as far as he could, and then rising to feel the small twitch of nerves.

Between feverish kisses, Grace removed what remained of his clothes, not wanting to leave his beloved's lips while he did so. He found himself naked in a few seconds, and under the heat of his desire, he removed [Name]'s shirt, displaying them completely to the camera, highlighting the silhouette of their bodies. Ryland's body was visible, slender and marked by scars, the burns that ran from his arm to his shoulder, and the natural contours of his body, the trail of hair that descended from his navel to his pubis, adorning his sex. And the figure of [Name] below, descended from her breasts to the soft silhouette of her hips, delicately drawn under the dim light of the room. —Grace kissed her again without ever rushing his actions, he was calm as he whispered something in her ear that was inaudible on camera, a smile forming on his lips as they both moved, in one moment, an entanglement of limbs and curves, and then, aligned again. —Ryland lay with his back to the camera, so that all that could be seen of him was his hair and the silhouette of his body on the mattress; [Name] would be the focus of the scene at that moment, straddling his face instead. Grace's hands slid up to hold her by the thighs, bringing her closer until he could touch her; running his mouth over her sensitive cunt, eliciting a soft moan from her.

The view below her was graceful; the woman ran her fingers tenderly through Grace's hair, feeling the warmth of his tongue against her intimacy; he smoothed the sensitive skin with his lips, and with his lips still he continued to trace its entire surface as he had done with his fingertips moments before. With the tip of the tongue, pressing the flesh of her thighs between his fingers, Ryland searched for the small nerve button. In a few seconds he found it, and began to caress it with the tip of his tongue in an intense, circular motion. Grace began to lick it with an expression that was already pure devotion when he opened his mouth wider and took more of her sex into his lips.

[Name] moved her hips against Ryland's lips, feeling her sex rubbing against the man's nose each time she moved. She moaned softly, thrusting herself against Grace's mouth, using him for her own pleasure without any shame, since for him, the reason for existing at that moment was only to serve his woman and nothing more, he wanted her from the flesh to the bones, to the bones down to the soul; the fact someone would watch them later didn't seemed to bother him anymore. The passion was shown through the screen, revealing the true form of lust between humans. —[Name] felt she could climax right there, the heat rising through her body each time she felt that delicious friction, felt the gentle warmth of his tongue, felt the rigidity of his nose against her clitoris, and the firmness of his hands on her body, pulling her closer and closer like gravity pulls objects.

“My love,” Grace called, using his arms to lift her just enough to speak. “I want you to cum with me…” He murmured softly, resting his face against her thighs, his gaze pleading to feel her warmth more deeply. “Ride me, please?” He asked, his hands squeezing the flesh of her hips lightly. [Name] pulled away from his face, sat further back, her knees holding Ryland's hips in place. Her body was visible from her hips to her chest, her breasts perfectly framed in the slightly off-center camera as he slid his dick over her dripping slit; her moist heat enveloped Grace entirely. He threw her head back, moaning with pleasure, with passion, as she began to move up and down, slow and deep. —His hands were still firmly gripping her hips, following the movements under his half opened eyes, already heavy with pleasure.

Grace felt [Name]'s intense heat rising through his body, every little sound, every small, whiny moan she made calling his name, made Ryland lose his lucidity, he groaned loudly and tearfully when she began to go faster, as shameless as she was. "Get on your knees love..." —He asked once more, they moved quickly in a tangle until they arranged themselves in an even dirtier position; [Name] was in front of the camera again, her face flushed with pleasure and her hair already starting to get messy. Behind her arched back was Ryland; more of his body and face were visible, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he looked down. Slowly, he let himself sink into the heat of her tight walls, moaning loudly as soon as they're connected again. As soon as he did, Grace pulled her close, one arm keeping her on her knees, her back pressed against her chest. – “Take care of this for me” —He ordered, taking off his glasses and placing them on [Name]'s face. Soon, she was back, arched over the bed, moaning softly as he began to move his hips.

Ryland was slowly entering her, without any urgency, already captivated by the sweet, so sweet poison of his wife. —Both hands gripped her hips, and low sounds echoed through the room, each small moan serving more purpose than words could at that moment. They both felt closer and closer to the abyss, pleasure, orgasm, all following one after the other without any concrete prediction beyond the signals given by the intimate symphony of sex.

Ryland tried to distract himself, averting his eyes from the place they were connected; the image of his dick sinking down on her wasn't really helping him last longer. —The bluish color of his eyes soon fell on the camera in front of them, and without even thinking twice, he stopped, leaned over [Name]'s body, placed one hand beside her head, and picked up the object with the other. He returned to where he was and aimed the camera at the same spot he had just looked at; the screen now displayed an even more intimate image. —They both felt equally close to the end, Grace's thrusts quicker, more careless and desperate, while [Name]'s body was tense, her eyes closed in concentration and her lips slightly parted.

The moment they both cummed was captured by the camera, the sudden interruption, the tearful moans and the words of affection. There was nothing sweeter than desire in chains, covering them in sudden euphoria. —Ryland got out from her with a low slick noise, his hand that had been resting over her hip moving to a bold movement; his fingers slid down a little, gripping on the flesh of her ass, and spreading it open, exposing her pussy, watching with awe as the milky substance drips down from her insides. –“Look at this sweetheart...you did so good for me.” —Ryland murmured, ending the recording when he felt they had made enough.

୨ৎ

Settled under the quilt, [Name]'s body was nestled against Ryland's, her back pressed against his bare chest as they savored the moment afterward.

"I love when you do this thing with your face...makes me want to kiss you stupid the whole night" —[Name] commented, pointing to Grace's face on the camera screen, where he had his eyebrows furrowed, biting his lower lip for a brief moment. They were reviewing what they had just done, to make sure there was nothing absurd and out of curiosity about the performance. —"Don't say that darling, it's genuinely embarrassing."—Grace said in a grumble, hiding his face in her neck as she spoke, feeling something between shame and pride when he saw those scenes, and the immeasurable gratitude that no one but them would see it.

No one but them and Rocky, of course.

୨ৎ ; ℐ𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡.

𝓦𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞: 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬. ── 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞: 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐜𝐨𝐧, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬.

─── 𝓜𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫; 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 + 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬, 𝐧𝐨 𝐀𝐈 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬.

─୨ৎ 𝒫airing: ℛyland Grace x ℱem reader

─୨ৎ 𝓦arnings: ℳention of sex (not explicit)

─୨ৎ 𝓐uthor notes: 𝓝o one asked for this, but i believe us curly girls deserve more ☝🏻☝🏻 there's no mention of a specific length or hair curvature, feel free to think as your own way.

𝓝ow playing: ℐmprevisto by 𝒴ago 𝒪proprio

─୨ৎ Before meeting you, Grace knew about

basic hair care, which was already a lot for someone who uses 3-in-1 shampoo and has even considered washing her hair with soap (more than once). Ryland learned about basic care so she could talk about it with his students, mainly so they would feel included.

─୨ৎ He took the time to learn more about the biological characteristics just so he could share with you. “Hey love, did you know that microscopically speaking, your hair has a different shape? It’s like yours is like a ribbon, like those we put on presents that get all curled up, that’s where the curl comes from.” —It's something he would say at some point during the day,

—But when you start talking and explaining, Grace listens silently and attentively, as if he were in an extremely important class (which, for him, is probably the equivalent). And since then, his phone has a list in the notes app with his favorite products and his opinions about them.

—He would send messages out of the blue during the day after watching a video or listening to something from his students. Most of them being silly questions. —"Honey, what the heck is a diffuser?"

—When you mention something, within a few weeks he would magically bring what you talked about in the middle of shopping. Is one of your products running out? He brought it along with the things he needed to make dinner. You have a favourite brand? He will, By coincidence, he will be buying for you every month since then.

— Or, he would send photos of things he saw at the market saying, “Look what I found, honey, what do you think?” At first, they were silly things like fruity-scented products, things with cute packaging, or simply something with the phrase “for curly hair” on the label. — As time went on, when you explained to him what you were looking for and what you didn't like, Grace started to be more specific, and often ended up finding surprisingly good things for you unintentionally.

— Ryland is completely in love with your hair, in an almost exaggerated way. He would watch you comb and style your hair with genuine admiration; something about how the strands of hair glided over the gaps in the hairbrush and created that familiar wave or spiral shape is like magic to him.

— Early in the relationship, Grace asked you to teach him how to style his hair; the order of the products, the quantity, how much volume you like, and even how you part your hair. He hesitated at first, but over time, it became a habit of affection.

— When you're in vulnerable moments, Grace would take care of you in every way, and knowing how much of your self-esteem comes from your hair, he would take care of that for you. —A bath together after care, or when you're sick, depressed; in any situation, Grace would be right behind you, tenderly taking care of your hair.

— He would spend at least an hour arguing if you mentioned the idea of straightening your hair to look more elegant or formal on any occasion. According to him, those are exactly the moments when you should show off the beauty of your curls.

— He would hate pulling your hair during sex; for him, it's almost like blasphemy. No matter how much you ask, he simply can't.

— Grace's favorite sight is the different ways her hair looks in the morning; messy, frizzy, or not, it's still beautiful in her eyes.

Tiring routines; long working hours, and dealing with young people. Nothing could have been worse than that. To deal with their frustrations, people tend to search for something to release their stress, some of them like to take a drink late at night on Friday, others, a smoking break, and for those who don't tend to consume anything; hobbies to keep their minds in place.

However, Ryland Grace didn't drink, he didn't smoke, and he definitely didn't have the patience (or inclination) for hobbies other than working out. So what could he do after an exhausting day teaching?

The company of his wife of course. Who else could make him feel as good as she did? He wasn't sure how he could ever have married a woman like her; but as soon as he hears her sweet voice, and the warmth of her hands on his skin, everything was left behind, right outside the bedroom door.

The house was filled with the soft homey atmosphere, the noises of the streets outside and the soft humming of the television in the background. — Grace closed the door behind him with a loud, slightly dramatic sight, his very own way of saying "honey, I'm home!".

Grace hung up his coat and left his things in a corner of the house as he walked through the rooms, partly to look for her, and partly to finally reach their room. He thought about calling her when he noticed the house was very quiet, only to find her already in her room, busy looking at herself in the mirror; [Name] arrived a few hours earlier than him, and almost every day she always did everything the same way, six in the afternoon as expected, she finished her bath and waited for Ryland in the living room or bedroom, almost always distracted doing something.

"There you are." —She says to Grace who was standing there in the middle of the room, looking at him in the mirror's reflection, happy to see him after a whole week of rushing and busy with countless things.

"Tough day?" The woman questioned, observing Ryland's clear frustration. It was easy to see, since it wasn't uncommon to see him sulking when something didn't go the way he expected, or being completely demoralized by middle school children.

"Today was the fateful day when they discovered the mathematical part of science." Ryland explained, still standing there with his hands on his hips, looking down, and then back at her. "I don't want to be in the room the day they learn that calculations will have more letters than numbers." He says again, his voice tinged with pity for the future of his students, dealing with the traumatic physical chemical, and mathematical formulas.

[Name]'s laughter caught his attention again, as she had also stood up, going to meet Grace who was still standing there. "Starting a new subject is always difficult, don't worry about first impressions," she says, her hands already loosening his tie, and also removing the bicycle helmet he had completely forgotten when he entered the house.

"Look, it's more common than you imagine, having to remember Avogadro's number or learning about dominant and recessive genes is a traumatic event." She says, caressing his face as a way to comfort him.

"What do you have against science, huh? The theoretical part isn't even that difficult." Ryland replied, slightly offended to know that some people go around being the biggest haters of chemistry. Still, when he felt the warmth of [Name]'s hands, his indignation vanished.

"You're a good teacher, don't worry about it." She says, kissing his cheek tenderly; the soft scent of her perfume completely taking over Grace's senses, which were occupied by worry and stress, and were now replaced by the sweetness of her wife.

"I hope you're really saying that." He says, a smile forming on his lips as he's kissed.

"Of course I am. But now, why don't you forget all this?" She says, now practically holding Grace's face in her hands, watching how the man melted under her touch. "I know the perfect way to cure your worries." One of [Name]'s hands moved from Grace's face to her arms, her touch, light and subtle, slowly taking the weight away from his shoulders. She smiled as Grace accepted with such ease what she had suggested so briefly, not even seeming to hesitate.

"That's my man..." [Name] whispered, leaning closer until she had her lips finding his in a slow, passionate kiss. —And that kiss wasn't the only thing affecting Grace right now, the way she whispered sweet words for him was enough to make his heart beat a little faster.

"Take a nice warm shower, I'll be waiting for you." She says, watching the way he immediately nods and kisses her one last time before heading towards the bathroom. —He was not immune to falling into the same habits as her, following the same path as hers to begin their nights properly.

The dim light of the television was the only source in the room, some movie in which they watched for no more than five minutes before Grace continued what she had started, he didn't even considered getting dressed after he returned to the bedroom; —Cuddling comfortably between her open legs, Ryland was taking his own time with her, delighting himself with her moans, and the sweet, oh so sweet taste of her pussy against his mouth.

On days like this, he would spend hours doing that; his tongue playing with [Name]'s sensitive clit with short, brief licks, watching her reactions every time he did it. His hands gently held her thighs, and Grace watched the woman's reactions the whole time, as she moaned softly at the sensation.

Ryland, on the other hand, wasn't quiet at all during these moments; he grunted and moaned softly every now and then, unable to stay silent for long. — "Oh god..I missed you so much..." Grace murmured, getting his mouth away only to speak up, and then immediately getting back before she could even answer. He kept going in the cycle of talking and then shutting himself by sucking on her sensitive bud of nerves or running his tongue from bottom to top; covering his lips with her juices in the process, making a rather delightful mess.

"How long has it been since we've been together?" Ryland asked, taking just one last lick before he leans back, resting his face against one her thighs.

"No more than three days if we count the quickies in the morning shower." [Name] said, a hint of frustration over her body with the sudden lack of contact.

"That's a long time." Grace murmured, licking his own lips as he sits up, watching her laying there for a moment. —His eyes trailed all the way up to her head; strands of hair forming curled figures across the sheets, her face illuminated by the colors of the film still playing in the background, highlighting every little thing he loved about her face. Then his gaze went down to her body; laying on her back comfortably, and that wave of yearning hit him one more time. —"I'm going to make up for these lost days. How could I dare? Not giving you the attention you should get? Oh my God I'm the luckiest man alive right now." He says, distracting himself as he looked back into her, running a hand over his face as he crawled the way back to her.

Ryland settles on top of her, his hips fitting perfectly between her thigh perfectly; and his fade nuzzling against her neck, feeling the sweet scent clinging into her skin. Slowly, he aligns himself against her; pushing into her warmth with a low moan right against her ear.

He moved his hips slowly, savoring the sensation of having her again. —Even though not much time had passed, Ryland felt as if he hadn't fucked her in months, when in reality it had only been a few days. "Oh my—it feels so damn good sweetheart." He murmured, his voice shaky as he kept moving, slow and deep; taking his own time with her.

In answer to his actions, [Name] rests her hands against his shoulders one more time, nails scratching the skin there just enough to make him shiver. — Hearing him speak up, murmuring sweet things between his moans only made him prettier in her view; he wasn't afraid of being vulnerable with her, his shameless demonstration of pleasure was like a spell. There's nothing better in the world than men who aren't ashamed to moan, or be a little whiny with their women.

Still nuzzling his face against her neck Ryland leaves small, lazy kisses over the skin there; only stopping when he's unable to keep quiet. —He was a complete mess, whining and murmuring; kissing and holding her as if his last night with [Name].

Still, there was something beautiful in the way he was completely giving himself into it, he desires her, very much, but what was most apparent was that genuine feeling of surrendering himself to her. —Grace moved his face away from her neck, now looking at her face; his glasses now foggy and totally out of place for the way he was practically with his face pressed against her body. His eyebrows furrowed and those puppy eyes which he had no right to have, because it was simply adorable, in an almost irritating way. That pitiful little face always drives [Name] crazy with desire; and he doesn't even notice that.

"You're so pretty." Grace said when he noticed the way he was staring at her, both of them thinking the same thing of each other. —But he was the one speaking up this time.

Feeling himself getting closer, Grace moved one his hands down between their bodies; adding one more combination to the mixture of sensations between the two of them: his fingers playing with her sensitive clit one more time, wanting to make sure she feels as good as he did. "God—I love you so much [Name]." He murmured, his movements more desperate as he feels himself unable to last longer; angling his hips to reach deeper. "Please...I'm not going to last longer." Ryland says, nuzzling his face against her neck again, seeking for her warmth as he gets closer; but now he could feel the way her body was following the same rhythm, her nails digging a little stronger on his shoulder blades and her moans calling him. —His mind tried to focus on many other things, but there's nothing else to think about other than her; it was both a blessing and a cursing.

His hips moved into erratic thrusts, just a few more until he felt himself reaching the sweet euphoria of the orgasm. —But he didn't stop just yet, and still focused on doing the same for her, he shifted his position until he was kneeling in front of her, compensating the lack with his fingers; quickly making her cum by the way he used his hands on her. Hearing her sweet whines and the way she squirmed beneath him, it was all too much for his mind, she was too pretty for a simple man like him, still, he loved it more than anything.

Still kneeling between her legs, Ryland takes off his glasses, leaving them somewhere around the bed before he lays down over her again; carefully to not accidentally press her on the mattress with his weight. —His hair was a complete mess, breathing heavily and feeling the thin layer of sweat covering his body.

"Feeling better now?" [Name] asked, one hand moving to caress his hair. Loving the way he clings into her like a needy puppy on every moment of after-care. She heard a muffled answer coming from him, but she didn't needed to to decipher that, after all she always knew what his answer was.

When you're riding him, his hands will run all the way up to your breasts, If it's not the hands, it's his mouth; preventing Grace from embarrassing himself by saying something stupid. His eyes simply can't look at other things when he has such a beautiful sight, occasionally alternating between looking up at your face and then back at your boobs like he can't simply focus on the two things at the same time; having many pretty things to look at with only one pair of eyes.

And then, when he's fucking you from behind, body bent over under his. Grace will be totally head over heels for the curves of your waist and ass, looking down to watch you; with both hands over your hips, his fingers pressed against the warm skin like it's as a way to reassure himself he wasn't dreaming about it instead. And if he's not paying attention to the view of your body, he'll be distracted watching the way your needy cunt takes him just so perfectly, along with the sound of your moans (and his too).

There's also the times when all he needs is to feel the warmth of your thighs right over each side of his head. His hands resting on your thighs, feeling the soft and warm flesh against his fingers while his tongue works restlessly on you.

Ryland, being such a giver, could never choose any other thing to do other than spending hours savoring the sweetness of his lover. He's a mess and he loved it, running his tongue from the bottom up and then giving full attention to the sensitive bud. —And on all the times, he would be looking up at you, glasses starting to get foggy or out of place in his face; eyebrows slightly furrowed for the dedication.