[Suddenly his hands are everywhere. Exploring, searching, like she's the particularly unexpected result of an experiment he desperately wants to unravel. (Basic maps of erogenous zones are misleading; far too much individual variation for them to be helpful in high-pressure situations. Has to make his own.) He catalogs data like lightning, abandoning areas that don't elicit responses and paying special attention to ones that do.
(Devil in the details.)
He grins against her, unbidden, when his belt hits the floor. This is fun in his (their) own twisted way, the first time he's ever enjoyed himself so much doing something so repetitive. He lets his nails skim lightly along her hipbones before he pulls his hands away entirely, just long enough to pull his own shirt off and toss it to the side.]
no subject
(Devil in the details.)
He grins against her, unbidden, when his belt hits the floor. This is fun in his (their) own twisted way, the first time he's ever enjoyed himself so much doing something so repetitive. He lets his nails skim lightly along her hipbones before he pulls his hands away entirely, just long enough to pull his own shirt off and toss it to the side.]