The praise made her whimper loudly, against her hand. And then Kaczor was working her over with both tongue and mouth. Each touch was light, barely there, and yet just as overwhelming when all together. And despite the hand over her mouth, Ella was... fairly loud.
When much of Kac's focus turned to her clit, the hand covering her mouth left her face, searching for something to hold onto. If they'd been in bed, the sheets. Fingers eventually curl against the side of the table, knuckles white. [q]Mm, don't... don't stop, don't.[q] She whimpered, trying to bring her thighs against the other's head, to hold her in place. Instinct, rather than an actual conscious motion.
Fingers joined roving tongue, and Ella arched off the table. Kazcor was saying what she wanted to do, and then for just a second, everything stopped. [q]I d... yes, I do—[q] Ella was coming undone. Between the gentle guidence she was receiving verbally, and the variety of touch that Kaczor was providing...
She was too far undone to pay attention to anything else. Her gaze fixed on the ceiling, she doesn't quite register that there's a pant to Kaczor's voice, that the other must be getting herself off under the table. It doesn't matter—though if she wasn't so undone, she'd have been pleased and giddy to hear the woman react in such a way that implied that Ella's consent was helping her find her orgasm.
[q]Yes... yes, please—[q] As another finger was added, she rolled her hips, sought more friction. And as she came undone, one of the wineglasses perched delicately beside of her finally hit the floor, having been inching towards the edge of the table with each movement she made. But she doesn't hear the glass break.
She's tensed, her heels digging into Kaczor's back, trying to bring the others face closer—and all at once, everything in her vision blurred. Eyes closed, hand pressed against her mouth to mute a moan.
She's too busy in the haze of her orgasm to hear footsteps.
When much of Kac's focus turned to her clit, the hand covering her mouth left her face, searching for something to hold onto. If they'd been in bed, the sheets. Fingers eventually curl against the side of the table, knuckles white. [q]Mm, don't... don't stop, don't.[q] She whimpered, trying to bring her thighs against the other's head, to hold her in place. Instinct, rather than an actual conscious motion.
Fingers joined roving tongue, and Ella arched off the table. Kazcor was saying what she wanted to do, and then for just a second, everything stopped. [q]I d... yes, I do—[q] Ella was coming undone. Between the gentle guidence she was receiving verbally, and the variety of touch that Kaczor was providing...
She was too far undone to pay attention to anything else. Her gaze fixed on the ceiling, she doesn't quite register that there's a pant to Kaczor's voice, that the other must be getting herself off under the table. It doesn't matter—though if she wasn't so undone, she'd have been pleased and giddy to hear the woman react in such a way that implied that Ella's consent was helping her find her orgasm.
[q]Yes... yes, please—[q] As another finger was added, she rolled her hips, sought more friction. And as she came undone, one of the wineglasses perched delicately beside of her finally hit the floor, having been inching towards the edge of the table with each movement she made. But she doesn't hear the glass break.
She's tensed, her heels digging into Kaczor's back, trying to bring the others face closer—and all at once, everything in her vision blurred. Eyes closed, hand pressed against her mouth to mute a moan.
She's too busy in the haze of her orgasm to hear footsteps.
02-18-2024, 09:53 PM
