[ He's so deliciously responsive, and she makes mental notes of what gets him to squirm, what makes him groan and gasp, and oh, he whines. In the back of her mind, Gamora imagines how satisfying it would be to pin him to the bed, hold him down and wring all of these sounds from him again and again and again, until he's pleading and sobbing with it. She wants to see that, and the idea of it burns her mind just as brightly as every sound from him sends thrills of want shooting straight through her.
She wonders how much it would take to drive him out of his mind.
But all of this, and she knows she's ruined her panties. That arousal is coiled low in her belly, making it harder and harder to stay still, but she also can't bring herself to let go of Peter's dick long enough to focus on getting naked. She's sure he can manage it, even as he's fumbling and tripping over his own fingers, and she only helps by lifting her hips to make it that much easier to tug her pants down properly, kicking them free to leave them tangled with the rest of Peter's blankets.
Has her hand stopped? Absolutely not. And now that she's starting to get a better idea of what produces the best results, she's returning to the patterns that had him rocking demandingly into her hand. ]
no subject
She wonders how much it would take to drive him out of his mind.
But all of this, and she knows she's ruined her panties. That arousal is coiled low in her belly, making it harder and harder to stay still, but she also can't bring herself to let go of Peter's dick long enough to focus on getting naked. She's sure he can manage it, even as he's fumbling and tripping over his own fingers, and she only helps by lifting her hips to make it that much easier to tug her pants down properly, kicking them free to leave them tangled with the rest of Peter's blankets.
Has her hand stopped? Absolutely not. And now that she's starting to get a better idea of what produces the best results, she's returning to the patterns that had him rocking demandingly into her hand. ]