["Whatever he wants" starts off with another kiss, just like the last; he needs a little time to continue winding down, though he knows he's just going to go back there soon enough. But there's an opportunity in here to repay Wanda for the gift she's just given him, and he fully intends to do so before they move on to the final act.
First, though, he needs to get her out of her lovely costume.
Still pressed up against her, he starts exploring with his hands to see if the laces up front are just decorative or if they actually serve a purpose, and if there are additional fasteners in the back. The upside of this is that he's running his hands up and down her body, pausing here and there to squeeze lightly at her breasts and buttocks, thinking how easy it would be to just forego the hassle and pull up her dress--another time. Not tonight. Not for their first time.
Instead, he fusses with the clothing until he figures it out, and his reward is helping Wanda shimmy right out of the dress, leaving her underthings. This is a point they've been to many times before, and yet this time he's charged up with an electricity unlike any other. It shows, too: he's hard again, and doesn't even seem to realize it. And the reason is very obvious: this time, they come off and he stands for a long moment, drinking in the sight of her before him.]
Let's get you on the bed, yes?
[His skin tone doesn't allow for the shade a blush would bring, but his eyes are dilated and his breathing is heavy, and as soon as she gets on the bed he moves into place above her, not touching yet but deciding where to begin. In a move that would definitely not surprise her future self, he decides to start with her breasts. One at a time, he cups them gently in his hand, strokes them, circles the nipple and swoops in to suck at it and run his tongue over the rough pebble. They're so very unlike anything on his own body, he supposes, but it could also just be that he finds them beautiful.]
I could spend all night here, you know. One day I'd like to.
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First, though, he needs to get her out of her lovely costume.
Still pressed up against her, he starts exploring with his hands to see if the laces up front are just decorative or if they actually serve a purpose, and if there are additional fasteners in the back. The upside of this is that he's running his hands up and down her body, pausing here and there to squeeze lightly at her breasts and buttocks, thinking how easy it would be to just forego the hassle and pull up her dress--another time. Not tonight. Not for their first time.
Instead, he fusses with the clothing until he figures it out, and his reward is helping Wanda shimmy right out of the dress, leaving her underthings. This is a point they've been to many times before, and yet this time he's charged up with an electricity unlike any other. It shows, too: he's hard again, and doesn't even seem to realize it. And the reason is very obvious: this time, they come off and he stands for a long moment, drinking in the sight of her before him.]
Let's get you on the bed, yes?
[His skin tone doesn't allow for the shade a blush would bring, but his eyes are dilated and his breathing is heavy, and as soon as she gets on the bed he moves into place above her, not touching yet but deciding where to begin. In a move that would definitely not surprise her future self, he decides to start with her breasts. One at a time, he cups them gently in his hand, strokes them, circles the nipple and swoops in to suck at it and run his tongue over the rough pebble. They're so very unlike anything on his own body, he supposes, but it could also just be that he finds them beautiful.]
I could spend all night here, you know. One day I'd like to.