His heart lurches as she assures him she will be as delicate as he prefers. He is given to such conversations before bedding eager partners, he wouldn't dream of behaving in any way other than the one she's promised, but the promise gives him a dreamy besotted feeling all the same. He licks his lower lip on reflex and, at once, she laughs--
The air tastes like lightning and cold and at once an array of accouterments appear on the bed beside them. The black leather straps and silver fittings are terribly to her style. He reaches and plucks them up, shifting the harness in his hands and running fingertips along the length of the belting. She will look indescribable wearing these--it's enough to have him sighing.
The oil is in a lovely crystal vial--the way it glitters appeals to him, all facets of clear glass before amber liquid.
The phallus alongside it is--well, it is beautiful, but that is hardly a surprise. It is a heavy thing, black and shining, like it has been carved of living stone or volcanic glass. It is thicker than he is and they are of a length. He has had bigger but only very rarely. He cocks a brow and looks back at her, harness still in hand--there's a humor on his face. He is clearly pleased, but it's a wry thing.
"I see you can guess my proclivities," he says, jesting at the size of it and how, true, he is neither concerned nor reluctant to picture himself impaled upon it. Some men would be, it would not be a thing easily taken by those unaccustomed to similar. Leave it to Yennefer to make it just slightly fantastic and challenging.
"I would offer to dress you, but I think you might do a better job securing yourself...and I think I would like to watch you while I prepare myself." At that, he does have a bit of red spreading up his neck. He is used to speaking candidly about his desires but rarely does he do so with such a tender, delighted partner. It is the closeness that drives embarrassment into him--makes him into a coquette.
no subject
The air tastes like lightning and cold and at once an array of accouterments appear on the bed beside them. The black leather straps and silver fittings are terribly to her style. He reaches and plucks them up, shifting the harness in his hands and running fingertips along the length of the belting. She will look indescribable wearing these--it's enough to have him sighing.
The oil is in a lovely crystal vial--the way it glitters appeals to him, all facets of clear glass before amber liquid.
The phallus alongside it is--well, it is beautiful, but that is hardly a surprise. It is a heavy thing, black and shining, like it has been carved of living stone or volcanic glass. It is thicker than he is and they are of a length. He has had bigger but only very rarely. He cocks a brow and looks back at her, harness still in hand--there's a humor on his face. He is clearly pleased, but it's a wry thing.
"I see you can guess my proclivities," he says, jesting at the size of it and how, true, he is neither concerned nor reluctant to picture himself impaled upon it. Some men would be, it would not be a thing easily taken by those unaccustomed to similar. Leave it to Yennefer to make it just slightly fantastic and challenging.
"I would offer to dress you, but I think you might do a better job securing yourself...and I think I would like to watch you while I prepare myself." At that, he does have a bit of red spreading up his neck. He is used to speaking candidly about his desires but rarely does he do so with such a tender, delighted partner. It is the closeness that drives embarrassment into him--makes him into a coquette.
"Unless you would like to do that yourself?"