[It was unusual. Her passions should not be this high. But they were, ever since she had come into this room. And maybe, if Akua felt the same as she did now... She would know what it was like, to be in heat. To burn with hunger that had no rational source, to find your brain drifting to lewd thoughts despite a need to focus elsewhere, to be sensitive to smells and touch, to ache and not be able to hide it, body responding as if to show anyone at all who might notice see? see how badly I want to... ?
She had always hated it. Only recently... only recently she had started to think something good could come of it, that maybe she wouldn't have to go through another frustrating, embarrassing heat ag-... for a while, but-
Hayame swallows some words that might have come out. Her excuses were in the air, she didn't need more. She had said "yes" and Akua had promised to sate them. She knew that Akua could. There wasn't any reason to doubt. So as the "fingers" became less defined and more simply pressure, friction, fill that slips inside of her, as an excited moan parts her lips and slides off her tongue... she lets out a ragged breath and then surges forward, dipping to find the other woman's mouth so that she might mask her sounds momentarily in a kiss, demanding and desperate.
It doesn't mask the other sounds, though. The slick way her nethers part but then clench around the intrusion of that invisible, magic force, how her hooves skitter along the ground as she lets out an aborted half kick, hips bucking up awkwardly into the electric rub of phantom touch that felt all the better each time her body "winked" and pressed her large, spade-shaped clit directly into the sensation of touch. It drives her further, too, anxious to not just receive, to show that she wouldn't be overwhelmed this time. Her fingers pull out of Akua's heat and splay over the half pulled-away undergarment, recalibrating just a moment, as she parts from their kiss with a gasp and a whimper, biting into her bottom lip, her tail shuddering high above her bay rump.
And then she's pressing back in with another finger, holding on to sense long enough to watch and feel for the angle from which Akua levers up her hips, striving to understand where felt best, what she wanted...]
Good-
[So that she can give it to her, curling her fingers and flicking her thumb over the line where lace has been pulled taut over sensitive flesh.]
no subject
She had always hated it. Only recently... only recently she had started to think something good could come of it, that maybe she wouldn't have to go through another frustrating, embarrassing heat ag-... for a while, but-
Hayame swallows some words that might have come out. Her excuses were in the air, she didn't need more. She had said "yes" and Akua had promised to sate them. She knew that Akua could. There wasn't any reason to doubt. So as the "fingers" became less defined and more simply pressure, friction, fill that slips inside of her, as an excited moan parts her lips and slides off her tongue... she lets out a ragged breath and then surges forward, dipping to find the other woman's mouth so that she might mask her sounds momentarily in a kiss, demanding and desperate.
It doesn't mask the other sounds, though. The slick way her nethers part but then clench around the intrusion of that invisible, magic force, how her hooves skitter along the ground as she lets out an aborted half kick, hips bucking up awkwardly into the electric rub of phantom touch that felt all the better each time her body "winked" and pressed her large, spade-shaped clit directly into the sensation of touch. It drives her further, too, anxious to not just receive, to show that she wouldn't be overwhelmed this time. Her fingers pull out of Akua's heat and splay over the half pulled-away undergarment, recalibrating just a moment, as she parts from their kiss with a gasp and a whimper, biting into her bottom lip, her tail shuddering high above her bay rump.
And then she's pressing back in with another finger, holding on to sense long enough to watch and feel for the angle from which Akua levers up her hips, striving to understand where felt best, what she wanted...]
Good-
[So that she can give it to her, curling her fingers and flicking her thumb over the line where lace has been pulled taut over sensitive flesh.]
Is it good... ?