|
hair under his hand, her
tense body against his, even through the clothing.
His eager boldness grew. One hand slid down Ayumi's back to Ayumi's own
buttocks, pressing them to him, pressing his hips to hers; he could
hear rough sounds of friction, his clothing against Ayumi's jet hair.
Ayumi's hands were around his upper arms, gripping them like steel, and
he waited. Waited for Ayumi's to relax into him, as the files on
Ishtarian training he had perused during Ayumi's absence had advised.
For long minutes, they were like that, tasting each other, he gently
moving his hips against hers until he felt himself again pushing to
be released from his clothing; he knew Ayumi Haraguchi could feel his occasional
pulsing. Time passed. He tightened his grip on Ayumi's buttocks,
feeling the soft skin give under his hands, and felt Ayumi's own grip on
his arms slacken just a hair. Now, he told himself. He pulled away
then, ending the kiss, and could feel Ayumi's body leaning into his,
watching Ayumi's face closely.
It was there, just as he had hoped -- surprise, desire, a hint of
frustration -- as Ayumi Haraguchi caught Ayumi's breath. He could see all of what
she felt running over Ayumi's face, through Ayumi's eyes. He smiled at her,
the impish little smile he had wo
|
