[For Iphigenia] Continued from "The Host Club is Open"

[77th_earl]

Continued from here

It doesn't take much to seduce Titus. He smiles at her shyly and sits down beside her on the bed and slips an arm behind her back. "I think that a private party is much better," he murmurs, kissing the side of her head.

Mature content, ahoy!

Comments

[ohmaiden]

"I think so too," she whispers, turning her head to perhaps catch his lips.

[77th_earl]

He catches her mouth with his and kisses her, warmly. "Mmm... yes... No one to intrude and our costumes are our skins..." he says, and if she'll let him, his hand will slip into her lap.

[ohmaiden]

She gasps a little when he touches her, but doesn't resist at all. Instead, she kisses him more passionately, wrapping her arms around his neck.

[77th_earl]

He'll caress her thigh gently, moving his hand slowly toward the hem of her skirt, but his hand will pause as she kisses him. He quivers with excitement and he might gasp a bit in his throat.

[ohmaiden]

"Let's lie down," she says decisively, and she might flop on the bed, giggling a little.

[77th_earl]

He sinks down with her, propping himself on his elbows as he leans over her. "It's much more comfortable this way: as if we were lying on the good green earth," he says, leaning down and kissing her again.

[ohmaiden]

"Mm--" She might attempt to push him gently down underneath her, so she's on top.

[77th_earl]

He lets her climb on top, smiling up at her with an awkward approval. "A princess outranks an Earl, so your place is only fitting," he says, with a slightly joking lilt. Hey, he just made a naughty joke!

[ohmaiden]

She giggles at that. "You're clever," she replies, and reaches to kiss him again.

[77th_earl]

"I hope to be: I have been reading what poetry that I can find," he says, reaching up and, typist willing, running a hand over her hip.

[ohmaiden]

"Oh?" She raises an eyebrow, grinding against him a little.

[77th_earl]

"Ahhh..." he murmurs, rolling his eyes in delight. "Yes, I found the work of one fellow named Shakespeare... rather dry, but he has some fine words... And another named Coleridge, whose poems are like a dream...."

[ohmaiden]

She reaches to kiss him yet again, and perhaps slips her tongue into his mouth.

She wants to make him moan.

[77th_earl]

He emits a very unpoetic sound against her mouth and he runs his hands up her back.

[ohmaiden]

"--I want to please you," she whispers against his mouth, pressing.

[77th_earl]

"You do... oh, how you do..." he murmurs, tracing her spine with his fingertips, running them downward.