memlost | voicemail

Well... you have given me plenty of time and opportunity to figure some things out.

[ He tilts his head to look at her, just as hot, smile a little bashful as his touch roams ever higher, beginning to drag her shirt up with it. ]

And I won't pretend I haven't thought about it. A lot.

A lot? [ okay, Noire, breathe. It's hard to meet his eyes when he admits things like that, and when his hand keeps traveling upward, but she does her best to keep her gaze on his face.

But boy, that's still oddly unexpected. ]

A lot. Not as much as every day, but a little more than sometimes and a tad under usually.

[ Why does she look so surprised. He always thought the attraction was fairly obvious. Was it just him... Did he just come out as a HUGE PERVERT, OH GODS. For once, he's the first one to look away, choosing instead to focus on the opposite bed. ]

But, um, if that sounds a little weird, then you can forget I ever said anything.

[ Yes. Just forget. That'd be great. ]

... No, I was just surprised. [ In a smaller voice. ] I-I think about you a lot, too, but it's always strange to hear it's mutual, somehow.

Oh. [ He brightens. Not a pervert!! Or if he is, then at least they both are, which works out too. ] Well, good! I hope I meet your expectations.

[ His task snaps back into focus when hand brushes up against its first boob -- truly a momentous occasion. If he could blush harder without turning into a giant red crayon, he would do so. He looks back at her, watching her reaction as his fingers adventure upward at a shy speed, cradling experimentally. "Only a little sensitive," she said... ]

[ He'll learn very quickly that Noire said that out of self-preservation, because she happens to be well-versed in what Morgan does when he discovers a weakness of hers.

That is, he exploits it, which is why she bites her lip to rein in any incriminating noises. But she's fever-hot now, and the noise she's not releasing is still somewhat audible in her throat, something like a stifled, heated whimper. ]

[ Noire. Noire, please. It's impossible to miss any noises coming from her when he's right at her neck. He really isn't sure if this is a normal reaction when girls get their breasts touched, or if handling breasts the wrong way can hurt (since apparently, punches are definitely undesirable??). So he continues as tenderly as he can, noting the tip under his thumb with absent curiosity. This is... definitely not what his own chest feels like. But it's nice in its own way. Very soft and pleasant to attend to.

...

And she is darn right about his fondness for exploitation. He tilts his head against hers with a smile. ]

This is your "a little sensitive"?

N-no one-- [ she breaks off with a very small gasp, dropping her head back a bit. If he's paying very close attention, the tip's definitely a highly sensitive spot. ] No one touches them like this!

[ ... This is too powerful a weapon for one man to wield. Fascinated, his breath dies in his throat. But now he's doubly curious, and before long his other hand slips up to mirror the other, exploring and smoothing those sensitive spots with careful attention as he gauges her reactions. It's a study in Noire for no real purpose but to see how far it can go. ]

Mm. Their loss. I think I could used to this.

[ Of course he could. Noire knows better than to encourage him, but honestly, with both of his hands there, it's all she can do not to squirm.

... Which she fails at, and sooner rather than later, all of this overwhelming attention will earn him a somewhat ragged moan. ]

[ ... YES, THIS IS WAY TOO MUCH POWER. That most distracting noise coming from her (not to mention all the squirming) effectively spots out all brain function and leaves a hot confused haze in its wake. He didn't even know she could make sounds like that... What has he done??

... Doesn't mean he particularly cares to stop, though. If anything, he'll add to her troubles by nosing her woefully exposed neck and leaving a few suckling kisses behind. And almost absently, he begins to push her meddlesome shirt up and out of the way. ]

[ She should have known this would happen. And maybe she'd had a faint inkling of suspicion when she'd agreed to let him continue. But Noire's rational thoughts and misgivings are both at the very, very back of her mind and the size of marble fragments compared to what she's unintentionally focused on now.

Everything's hot. His hands are hot, his kisses burn on her skin, and she feels feverish in a way that would feel alarming, if she wasn't oddly welcoming to the warmth. The air that greets newly exposed skin is still a relief, and she shifts again, his name escaping in a breathless, yearning rush. ]

[ Her voice fills his ears, and the rawness of it sends a shiver through him. He wasn't certain things would get this far on account of comfort levels, but now it feels like the only uncomfortable thing would be to stop. One of his hands stays at her breasts, teasing and massaging with both newfound freedom and growing confidence; the other tugs at her shirt so that he might get it off completely. For a moment, he'll even break off his kisses for the sake of the greater good. ]

[ When was "greater good" synonymous with "getting your girlfriend topless"-- although it lets Noire catch her breath for all of three seconds (except his other hand is still there, so it's not much of a respite for her senses). Her eyes are squeezed shut now, so any additional darkness of her shirt passing up and over isn't noticed, so Morgan's great and valiant mission will succeed. Off comes the shirt. ]

[ At this moment, with them pressed together and her burning weight in his arms, there is totally nothing nobler than just having gotten his girlfriend topless. Mission accomplished, he shuffles aside and presses her down onto the bed with a firm hand, already bending to take her lips. ]

[ This is totally unbalanced in terms of dress (or lack thereof), gosh-- but Noire meets his lips greedily, desperate. All of that teasing's served to unravel her more than usual, and right now, the only thing she wants is him, exactly where he is.

It's not a shy kiss that greets him, not when her arms are already curving around his neck. ]

[ Hey, he would gladly be shirtless too if he were aware of anything past her eager mouth and embrace. His hum ends in a moan as her need hits him, and he matches it all too readily. He swings a knee over to straddle her properly, trapping her body and all that heat under him. ]

[ Excellent, now she can't fall off the bed. Or, at least, not without taking him with her. ]

You-- [ she breaks the kiss to speak, color bright in her cheeks. ] You're hardly-- making it easy to hold back...

[ ...

A look of surprise flashes across his face, and he pauses, still poised over her. ]

[ And then -- bubbling laughter, spilling forth. ]

You're talking about holding back now?

...

I thought I should mention it...

I think I missed the memo. I stopped holding back a while ago.

[ He buries his face in her neck, cheeks still most assuredly a bright red. ]

You think we should stop now?

Mm... if you want to keep going, Morgan-- [ she shifts a hand, moving it to the back of his head to stroke his hair. ] I won't stop you.

[ He closes his eyes, breath beginning to even out as he relaxes under her hand. A long moment drifts by, and then he replies softly. ]

You know, if you keep saying that, I'll only keep going until there's nowhere left to go.

But you'll be with me the whole time, won't you?

... Then it's fine.

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I guess I should say this is nsfw for any stalkers

I guess you could but will it really deter them

I tried!!

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