[ There's a stirring of curiosity when she folds her shirt -- Where did she pick that up? But the sight of her, in gorgeous, bright-eyed disarray, rolls up his spine and ignites in his brain like fire racing across a rope, so it's impossible to care. He pushes out of his boxers, kicks them away in a gesture that's both gauche and antsy. His cock feels beestung, stiffly upright and tucked against his belly; he is breathing in slow, jittery-edged inhales, like something hurts under the surface of his skin, and he needs -- oh fuck. ]
[ He reaches out, his hand seizing the fluffy spill of Korra's hair, clasping the curve of her skull to jerk her nearer. She still has too many layers of clothes on; her thin underwear -- not a sarashi, thank god for small favors -- clings like a kiss and tantalizingly empurples her nipples, her breasts seeming to heave into the filling fabric, the tips puckered as though to slip between the tug of his lips. ]
[ Passing his arms around her, he finds the clasp, at her back, and undoes it with shaky but unfaltering fingers. Peels the slip up and overhead, her hair clinging to the soft fabric, before bowing his head to bury his face between her breasts, openmouthed, his hands coming up to cradle them. They overfill his palms, hot, heavy, as delicious as ever. He kneads them gently before coasting his hands lower, fingers hooking into her waistband to wrench down her trousers. He lets them puddle at her feet, holding her by the hips. Lips the edge of her panties, tugging them down far enough to reveal her pubic patch, of which he takes a deep appreciative inhalation -- before pressing his mouth into the cleft of her thighs with a hungry vibrating groan. ]
[ The scent of her, the taste, races through him in a tidal wave of recollection. He'd been achingly hard since shucking his clothes, but all of a sudden he is steel. ]
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Date: 2014-12-08 02:59 am (UTC)[ He reaches out, his hand seizing the fluffy spill of Korra's hair, clasping the curve of her skull to jerk her nearer. She still has too many layers of clothes on; her thin underwear -- not a sarashi, thank god for small favors -- clings like a kiss and tantalizingly empurples her nipples, her breasts seeming to heave into the filling fabric, the tips puckered as though to slip between the tug of his lips. ]
[ Passing his arms around her, he finds the clasp, at her back, and undoes it with shaky but unfaltering fingers. Peels the slip up and overhead, her hair clinging to the soft fabric, before bowing his head to bury his face between her breasts, openmouthed, his hands coming up to cradle them. They overfill his palms, hot, heavy, as delicious as ever. He kneads them gently before coasting his hands lower, fingers hooking into her waistband to wrench down her trousers. He lets them puddle at her feet, holding her by the hips. Lips the edge of her panties, tugging them down far enough to reveal her pubic patch, of which he takes a deep appreciative inhalation -- before pressing his mouth into the cleft of her thighs with a hungry vibrating groan. ]
[ The scent of her, the taste, races through him in a tidal wave of recollection. He'd been achingly hard since shucking his clothes, but all of a sudden he is steel. ]