[ As the screechy pitch of her yelp indicates, Denji's visibly caught off guard, arms whipping up, face scrunching with the forceful discarding of her top. It's not really that she'd intended to help Aki along, it was more like — like when you keep passing by the same expensive dress that somebody else is busy handling, so when you see nobody's there, nothing's in your way anymore, you pounce on the opportunity to coast a grubby hand over its detailed stitching. Rub your fingers at the cool skin of something you'd never normally be able to afford in your lifetime.
Aki's an old crone who gets her pussy wet on hunting devils, dreaming of herself impaling that Gun with a blade. But sometimes it's hard to look away from her when her eyes get dark and freezing, clouded and focused. Even harder to resist touching her, imagining that she could use some warming up, imagining it'd be an easy thing to fix if Denji could just lay her hands on her.
So, a selfish compulsion. That's all it was.
Denji nearly doubles over when Aki feels her perking chest, cheek brushing against Aki’s as she hunches down. Her eyes water, embarrassed. Getting turned on by the embarrassment, the torturous slide of her fingers. Fuck. Damn it, her touch couldn't be more light, so why does it hurt as bad as a bruise?
When her hand finds Aki's breast again, she mirrors her careful example, making sure she's only loosely massaging her, a soft nipple pinched between her thumb and forefinger. Ducking her face in, Denji's lips press to Aki's shoulder. ]
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[ As the screechy pitch of her yelp indicates, Denji's visibly caught off guard, arms whipping up, face scrunching with the forceful discarding of her top. It's not really that she'd intended to help Aki along, it was more like — like when you keep passing by the same expensive dress that somebody else is busy handling, so when you see nobody's there, nothing's in your way anymore, you pounce on the opportunity to coast a grubby hand over its detailed stitching. Rub your fingers at the cool skin of something you'd never normally be able to afford in your lifetime.
Aki's an old crone who gets her pussy wet on hunting devils, dreaming of herself impaling that Gun with a blade. But sometimes it's hard to look away from her when her eyes get dark and freezing, clouded and focused. Even harder to resist touching her, imagining that she could use some warming up, imagining it'd be an easy thing to fix if Denji could just lay her hands on her.
So, a selfish compulsion. That's all it was.
Denji nearly doubles over when Aki feels her perking chest, cheek brushing against Aki’s as she hunches down. Her eyes water, embarrassed. Getting turned on by the embarrassment, the torturous slide of her fingers. Fuck. Damn it, her touch couldn't be more light, so why does it hurt as bad as a bruise?
When her hand finds Aki's breast again, she mirrors her careful example, making sure she's only loosely massaging her, a soft nipple pinched between her thumb and forefinger. Ducking her face in, Denji's lips press to Aki's shoulder. ]
N-Nn… More. You're bein' mean…