There's ample space he leaves as he watches her fingers reach around and feel up where they're joined. In fact he lets her feel as much as she'd like to, only moving when he thinks she might be about to take her hand back. Then he grasps her wrist, holding it in place behind her as he snaps his hips forward and hooks his thumb inside her to hold her.
Perhaps she's able to stop herself from going face first into the pew with just the one arm, but if not he's gripping her wrist tight enough not to allow enough slack. Regardless the simple motion extracts a sharp breath from him. Evidence that he's enjoying this. Evidence that he finds it just as hot as she does, even if his words aren't necessarily forthcoming.
He settles into something of a rhythm after that, his eyes drinking in the sight beneath him. The way her body is forced to rock forward with every slam of his hips against hers. Any noise she makes categorised and memorised as he fucks her in earnest. He won't last forever, not with the feeling of her so tight around him, but he doesn't think he needs to.
The grip she has on the pew is, at this point, the tips of her fingers grazing the rotten down wood, arm stretched out so she can catch herself if she absolutely has to. But she's his, she's all his. He has a grip on her arm and those thrusts are driving her to the edge of an orgasm with every push forward.
It feels like he's splitting her in half, and you can throw her in horny jail because this is just her type, honestly. Something to make her walk funny tomorrow. Between the restraints, the finger in her arsehole acting like a hook, his relentless pace - they fill the chapel with all sorts of frantic sounds. Her panted breaths, the sounds of skin slapping skin, the squelching slickness of her cunt, her moans and his grunts.
He doesn't need to last longer, because Ea sure as fuck doesn't. It feels like an eternity, but it is at best a few minutes of that intense pace before she gives up trying to catch herself and just brings that hand down to slap her clit a few times. That's the last edge she needs, and she shatters with a sharp and breathless cry, coming hard and wet and messy.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-09-08 05:36 pm (UTC)Perhaps she's able to stop herself from going face first into the pew with just the one arm, but if not he's gripping her wrist tight enough not to allow enough slack. Regardless the simple motion extracts a sharp breath from him. Evidence that he's enjoying this. Evidence that he finds it just as hot as she does, even if his words aren't necessarily forthcoming.
He settles into something of a rhythm after that, his eyes drinking in the sight beneath him. The way her body is forced to rock forward with every slam of his hips against hers. Any noise she makes categorised and memorised as he fucks her in earnest. He won't last forever, not with the feeling of her so tight around him, but he doesn't think he needs to.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-10 04:10 pm (UTC)It feels like he's splitting her in half, and you can throw her in horny jail because this is just her type, honestly. Something to make her walk funny tomorrow. Between the restraints, the finger in her arsehole acting like a hook, his relentless pace - they fill the chapel with all sorts of frantic sounds. Her panted breaths, the sounds of skin slapping skin, the squelching slickness of her cunt, her moans and his grunts.
He doesn't need to last longer, because Ea sure as fuck doesn't. It feels like an eternity, but it is at best a few minutes of that intense pace before she gives up trying to catch herself and just brings that hand down to slap her clit a few times. That's the last edge she needs, and she shatters with a sharp and breathless cry, coming hard and wet and messy.