10-23-2018, 04:00 PM
My heart saw the things my eyes couldn't see
Every touch and movement is perfection. The soft sounds she makes the most beautiful kind of music. He would hear it again and again if she let him. Would show her just how incredible this could be. Again and again.
His entire body feels almost weightless as he holds her close to him, languid. And entirely too pleased with himself. He smiles against her skin as he presses kisses against her shoulder, soft and satisfied. “Mmmmm,” he murmurs, voice muffled, eyes half-lidded and slumberous. He presses close, enjoying the salt-tinged scent of her mingled with his own.
For this one moment in time, she is his. Whether she would admit it or not.
As his breathing settles, he begins to trace lazy patterns along the ghostly edges of white and delicious ebony. He stills when her soft question registers, lips lingering on her skin. For a moment, he is uncustomarily silent, his lips moving along her skin until his muzzle is buried in the fall of her mane. He rubs the curve of her crest briefly, before smiling faintly. “If it is done right, yes,” he finally responds, voice soft as his breath causes the stray hairs of her mane to flutter.
He leaves the rest unsaid. She must know anyway. She’s seen enough thoughts to know not everyone cares so much about pleasure. Not everyone would treat her so well. The thought disturbs him. That she might ever be mistreated sends a pang through his heart and stirs a curious knot in his gut. But he brushes those thoughts aside. This moment is only for them. Only for the pleasure they had so willingly shared.
At the moment, he has everything. She had allowed him to show her what this could truly be. And that is more than enough for him right now.
His entire body feels almost weightless as he holds her close to him, languid. And entirely too pleased with himself. He smiles against her skin as he presses kisses against her shoulder, soft and satisfied. “Mmmmm,” he murmurs, voice muffled, eyes half-lidded and slumberous. He presses close, enjoying the salt-tinged scent of her mingled with his own.
For this one moment in time, she is his. Whether she would admit it or not.
As his breathing settles, he begins to trace lazy patterns along the ghostly edges of white and delicious ebony. He stills when her soft question registers, lips lingering on her skin. For a moment, he is uncustomarily silent, his lips moving along her skin until his muzzle is buried in the fall of her mane. He rubs the curve of her crest briefly, before smiling faintly. “If it is done right, yes,” he finally responds, voice soft as his breath causes the stray hairs of her mane to flutter.
He leaves the rest unsaid. She must know anyway. She’s seen enough thoughts to know not everyone cares so much about pleasure. Not everyone would treat her so well. The thought disturbs him. That she might ever be mistreated sends a pang through his heart and stirs a curious knot in his gut. But he brushes those thoughts aside. This moment is only for them. Only for the pleasure they had so willingly shared.
At the moment, he has everything. She had allowed him to show her what this could truly be. And that is more than enough for him right now.
Fox
