[Yosuke gawked while Lisbeth licked his fingers clean, staring at her with his jaw slightly slack and his eyes a bit unfocused. His chest hitched, and his junk twitched, and he found he couldn't draw a real breath anymore. No wonder he was so dizzy, he wasn't getting any oxygen. She was sucking all the air out of the room...]
[The odd little whines and pants and grunts and growls he made stopped abruptly when she straddled him, and he threw his head back so hard that it cracked off of something behind the bed. His hips thrust all of their own accord, his body somehow knowing that Lisbeth's warmth was just what he sought. Which was good, probably, because he was pretty sure he just gave himself a concussion. Stars swam in his vision, but it didn't even matter.]
[Shit, he always forgot just how good it felt. That warm, tight, literally breathtaking feeling of being surrounded by the soft inner walls of a woman. This woman. Lisbeth. He moaned again, loud enough that the neighbors were probably blushing, and sat forward eagerly. Yes. Yes. This was what life was for. This was the purpose of everything in the universe. This was good and natural and right and nothing else he'd ever done would ever compare to it. This was everything.]
[Eagerly, he let his hips snap a few times on their own. If he was being too eager, Lisbeth would stop him. She knew just how to corral him into doing as she pleased, and he wanted nothing more than to please her. He was blind with it, half frantic, panting, sweating, thrusting, gasping, growling for her. Whatever she asked him to do, he would do it. And it would be the best thing he had ever done, there was no doubt about that.]
Think I'm dying.
[Not that it mattered. But yeah, that was blood dripping down into his eye. Whatever. Something warm was dripping onto his thigh, too, and that was infintely more important and interesting. He pressed his face between Lisbeth's shoulders and thrust harder, deeper. There. Perfect. Now they could throb all over, together, all at once. Like electricity. Like the inside of a piano. Like fucking magic. He grunted softly, hissed, sighed. Yes. Oh, yes. This was what he'd come here for. Exactly this.]
Re: action.
[The odd little whines and pants and grunts and growls he made stopped abruptly when she straddled him, and he threw his head back so hard that it cracked off of something behind the bed. His hips thrust all of their own accord, his body somehow knowing that Lisbeth's warmth was just what he sought. Which was good, probably, because he was pretty sure he just gave himself a concussion. Stars swam in his vision, but it didn't even matter.]
[Shit, he always forgot just how good it felt. That warm, tight, literally breathtaking feeling of being surrounded by the soft inner walls of a woman. This woman. Lisbeth. He moaned again, loud enough that the neighbors were probably blushing, and sat forward eagerly. Yes. Yes. This was what life was for. This was the purpose of everything in the universe. This was good and natural and right and nothing else he'd ever done would ever compare to it. This was everything.]
[Eagerly, he let his hips snap a few times on their own. If he was being too eager, Lisbeth would stop him. She knew just how to corral him into doing as she pleased, and he wanted nothing more than to please her. He was blind with it, half frantic, panting, sweating, thrusting, gasping, growling for her. Whatever she asked him to do, he would do it. And it would be the best thing he had ever done, there was no doubt about that.]
Think I'm dying.
[Not that it mattered. But yeah, that was blood dripping down into his eye. Whatever. Something warm was dripping onto his thigh, too, and that was infintely more important and interesting. He pressed his face between Lisbeth's shoulders and thrust harder, deeper. There. Perfect. Now they could throb all over, together, all at once. Like electricity. Like the inside of a piano. Like fucking magic. He grunted softly, hissed, sighed. Yes. Oh, yes. This was what he'd come here for. Exactly this.]