in these trying times we're not trying

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

Remi raises a brow at that, having no piercings to compare it to. "Is that so." He mumbles with a dark smile, aiming to take full advantage of the heightened sensitivity. It would be with his fingers though, for his tongue had other places to be. And, giver that he was, it stood to reason that if his sexuality now included women after all these years, pleasing one would be as arousing for him as anything else might be.

Letting his calloused palm revolve over one of her nipples, Remi lets teeth suddenly sharpened to points graze down the firm skin of her belly. His tongue trails the shape of the snake that hugs her curves, before his shoulders round over her hips. Pausing, Remi looks up at Maeve from between her thighs as he draws closer to her lips, already glistening and welcoming with her own arousal. His tongue enters her, and it's with a desire to taste her rather than to provide additional lubrication that he licks upward, only stopping his glacial descent once the tip of his tongue rests upon her clit. At the same time his palm has ceased its slow rotation that his fingers might press and rub her nipple between his fingertips.

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing