freightcars: (ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴍᴇ)
ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ ([personal profile] freightcars) wrote in [community profile] styleandclass 2018-09-24 07:31 am (UTC)

[ For a second there he's convinced Connor's about to pull the plug on this whole venture. He'd understand it, he'd accept it, but he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't be a little disappointed. He's about to say as much, too, when a thigh slides up between his legs and grinds against the length of him in a sticky sweet sort of friction that tugs a tiny moan out of him. Just a soft, split-second keening sound that dies as quick as it ever was.

Just as quickly, his hand's shoved quite unceremoniously downard, palming over smooth, flat skin (is it skin? fake skin) and finding... nothing but more flat. ]


What, you mean you don't know? Never tried before now?

[ He asks, voice a little ragged but tinged with clear amusement. It's new territory, uncharted waters, he's not so sure what in the hell he's even supposed to do here.

So he wings it, trailing fingertips across Connor's smooth pelvic walls like he'd do a thigh, a back, a stomach. Can't really go wrong with that kinda thing, can you? He studies Connor's expression, searching for tells, for clues, for anything that gives away whether or not he's on the right track. ]

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