[ Denji won't ever understand the concept, particularly where Aki's concerned. Her life is so short, and she's always so flippant about giving her time, like they're grains falling away into the ground. There's no limit to what she'll never be able to taste or try or hold in her arms. How could she want to stop? She could tell Denji that she simply has different priorities, that sex isn't life or death the same way it is for her, and it'd still be mind-boggling.
Her gaze glimmers up at Aki, hawk-eyed, as if expecting the tiniest itch of Aki's arm to escalate into her abandoning the perch she's taken above Denji. If she weren't dipping each one of her fingers against her tongue, carefully wetting them, she'd pout. ]
What the hell… [ She traces the curve of Aki's slit, gently rocking the heel of hand in without pushing inside. Seeming to have learned her lesson. ] You'd just leave in the middle?
no subject
Her gaze glimmers up at Aki, hawk-eyed, as if expecting the tiniest itch of Aki's arm to escalate into her abandoning the perch she's taken above Denji. If she weren't dipping each one of her fingers against her tongue, carefully wetting them, she'd pout. ]
What the hell… [ She traces the curve of Aki's slit, gently rocking the heel of hand in without pushing inside. Seeming to have learned her lesson. ] You'd just leave in the middle?