Whimsical! Reader who's talkative during sex.
Hig's just trying to relax in the warmth of his woman, nude bodies intertwined together and you won't stop talking, just going on and on and on and on about your day.
“Then I got to pet a dog but turns out the dog was my ex's dog and—”
“Love,” Hig groaned, face buried in the crook of your neck and heavy hot breath in your ear.
“Yes?”
“Please, stop talking. Please.” He huffed, his eye dragging over to your face.
“Why?”
“Because it makes it hard for me to focus on what I'm doing.”
“Oh,” you paused, “okay, I'll be quiet, sorry.”
He pushed his hip forward, dragging his length through your moisture a small groan following each thrust.
Just as he felt the twitch in his cock and the stiffening, you started again.
“But I do have to say, there was this really nice older woman who made me and braclet and,” he was gonna be there a while.
He signed and just spiraled out on top of you waiting until you were finished so he could.
