| Subject: moi, je ne regrette rien |
Author:
Natasha
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Date Posted: 18:37:31 01/23/10 Sat
In reply to:
Lezedi
's message, "n'importe quoi pour vous, mon amour" on 06:26:39 01/23/10 Sat
((haha love it!))
Natasha gave a sharp intake of breath as Lezedi's lips pressed against her skin, more akin to a quiet gasp than a moan, but its meaning was clear nonetheless. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she tilted her head back, hyper-aware of his light touches to her neck. Then his arm was around her waist and she was, suddenly, lying down on the large, exceedingly comfortable bed. His hands were all over, spanning her narrow waist and tracing the curves of her hips. She knew the effect her body had on men, had been aware of it since she was thirteen years old, and thus recognized Lezedi's reaction for what it was.
She opened her eyes and looked over at him, studying his features in the half-lit room. He was close enough to see the smattering of tiny freckles across her nose, even in this dim light. He was speaking, she realized, so she listened intently to the smooth low rumblings of his voice. What a funny question. She turned it over in her mind a few times, not answering him, almost forgetting that he asked her a question and that he waited for a response. She breathed in deeply and slowly, feeling the swell of her breasts beneath her shirt rise as her lungs filled with air, feeling his hands on her body shift. A fuzzy feeling...this certainly was not fuzzy. She felt every brush of skin, every caress intensely and clearly. Though it was probably the lust that was making her so aware.
Natasha exhaled, and kicked off her little slippers, hearing the soft thuds they made as they hit the floor somewhere in the room. It made her grin a little, and so when Natasha slung a long leg over Lezedi and pushed herself up so that she straddled his hips, it was this rather coy smile that greeted him. "Well... my head feels fuzzy...which just makes it easier for my body to take over and do what it wants..." As she said this she slipped her cardigan off and tossed it to the side, revealing the camisole that had ridden up her stomach. Then she leaned toward him and busied herself unbuttoning a few buttons on his shirt. Natasha pressed her lips to the triangle of skin laid bare on his chest. She could mimic his gentle ministrations for now, though her body ached for more, and perhaps it would have the same effect on him as it did on her.
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