[ he is a meticulous thing, attentive and proactive to her every reaction. it makes manuela feel oddly self-conscious, which is in itself an ironic thing; to think the woman who craves attention as much as she does, who thrives under it as much as she does, would find herself shrinking back from it when she finally receives it after what feels like so long. truly, to be a human is a funny thing.
but enough about that. his deft hands are quick to distract her thoroughly enough, that even if the pink of her cheeks is partly there because of a sudden bout of bashfulness, there is far more heat than anything that might even come close to resembling any sort of hesitation.
once he rids her of her clothing (a feat, considering how that annoying material seems to cling to her like a second skin), she sits herself back on that bench to allow him a full and thorough look at her, thighs lightly parted so that he might see how wet she's already become for him. ]
Now that you've seen all of me... Don't I get to look, too?
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but enough about that. his deft hands are quick to distract her thoroughly enough, that even if the pink of her cheeks is partly there because of a sudden bout of bashfulness, there is far more heat than anything that might even come close to resembling any sort of hesitation.
once he rids her of her clothing (a feat, considering how that annoying material seems to cling to her like a second skin), she sits herself back on that bench to allow him a full and thorough look at her, thighs lightly parted so that he might see how wet she's already become for him. ]
Now that you've seen all of me... Don't I get to look, too?