He may have been ambivalent about her breasts before, but he never would be again. Her reaction to his hands and mouth on her had made this easily the most erotically charged moment they'd shared so far. His heartrate climbed as she arched towards him, as he felt her fingers against his back. It seemed ridiculous now that he had previously been worried he wouldn't be able to get through this and keep his focus on her; it seemed impossible to think of anything else when her leg moved against his.
Ford moved one hand down, along her waist and over her hip and to the space beneath her legs — then hastily pulled it back, with a quick intake of breath. It was wet and he had not expected that — but was too conscious of his own inexperience here and too anxious about derailing the momentum once again to say anything about it. Was this normal? If it had been unexpected on her end she would have said or done something when it happened, and she hadn't. (Was this even a thing that had happened or was it just the consistent state of affairs? He could not believe that women just walked around all day wet between their legs — surely that would create a lot of excess laundry?) Ford had grown up with sisters and knew that at certain times of month women bled, but surely if that was the case she would have warned him of it at some point prior to undressing? Unless it was — somehow — not a blocking condition for intercourse?
He still had her breast in his mouth which had thankfully relieved him of the impulse to say something stupid. This must have been normal, he decided — or at least, the potential harm in assuming that it was seemed less severe than the potential embarrassment of assuming it wasn't and being wrong — so he tentatively moved his hand back, paying close attention to her reaction.
Ford moved one hand down, along her waist and over her hip and to the space beneath her legs — then hastily pulled it back, with a quick intake of breath. It was wet and he had not expected that — but was too conscious of his own inexperience here and too anxious about derailing the momentum once again to say anything about it. Was this normal? If it had been unexpected on her end she would have said or done something when it happened, and she hadn't. (Was this even a thing that had happened or was it just the consistent state of affairs? He could not believe that women just walked around all day wet between their legs — surely that would create a lot of excess laundry?) Ford had grown up with sisters and knew that at certain times of month women bled, but surely if that was the case she would have warned him of it at some point prior to undressing? Unless it was — somehow — not a blocking condition for intercourse?
He still had her breast in his mouth which had thankfully relieved him of the impulse to say something stupid. This must have been normal, he decided — or at least, the potential harm in assuming that it was seemed less severe than the potential embarrassment of assuming it wasn't and being wrong — so he tentatively moved his hand back, paying close attention to her reaction.
Set by Lady!