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A hundred thoughts are racing in his head, like droplets in a shower, no individual is addressed. Rattled, intrigued and flustered, a sweat breaks out on Sol's forehead.
Discomfort worms its way into Nemmie's posture and expression. Sol's sure it's taken him too long to respond already. He forces himself to play catch-up now after his distraction.
He's happy, of course, the love of hundreds of his lives just confessed to him for the first time. He feels the thumping of his heart echoing all through his body. He clumsily finds the nearest part of Nemmie to place his hand upon. Falling awkwardly to her ankle.
Nemmie snaps back to attention.
“I’m- I’m so happy to hear that, Nemmie. I love you too. I’ve always loved you!” he gracelessly blurts out, grasping that ankle tighter as if it would affirm the awkward placement and make it seem less haphazard.
A wide smile spreads across Nemmie’s face. The adorable gap in her teeth becomes visible as she opens her smile to exhale a sigh. Her hand finds his on her ankle, making him feel the slightest bit less embarrassed about it. That is, until she picks his hand up off her ankle and brings it to her chest. He feels her heart racing, and her breath catching, but in a far more pleasant circumstance now.
Sol would have expected her to be punching his arm by now, that was usually how it went. He supposes it might have to do with the onus of sincerity being on her since she confessed. But, stealing a glance to where his hand is now, he finds this preferable. " No- focus! She’s being vulnerable, pay attention! "
Sol raises his unoccupied hand to cup Nemmie’s cheek, thumbing away a tear and holding her face still. She turns into his hand, and the smoother scales on her jaw and cheek rasp softly against his skin. She nestles in, sniffling lightly and slowly closing her eyes.
Sol is thinking of what to say, to resist the march of the silence toward being strange or off-putting.
Nemmie beats him to it.
“I almost didn’t tell you.” Nemmie whispers into his palm, sort of caught between talking to him and to herself.
“I’m glad that you did. This is a race I’m happy to lose.” Sol admits quietly, and rubs his thumb on her cheek.
Sol leans forward and turns her head toward him to kiss her.
“But you only beat me by a hair.” he soughs, nuzzling his nose against hers.
She kisses him in celebration…
and again in thanks.
Specific meaning is lost somewhere on kiss #9
–O O O–
The pair of young adults are in quite a different arrangement now. Nemmie is sat against the arm of the sofa while a kneeling Sol straddles her lap, they’re locked in a snog, wholly unwilling to part for any amount of time. Their hormones and freshly realized love proving strong adhesive.
His left hand is slid under the staunch, elastic hem of her sweater caressing her back, bunching the cumbersome cloth and tugging at the modesty it provides. His other hand cradles and tangles itself in the hair at the back of her head.
Her leg is curled around his calf, locking it in place. One hand paws greedily at his naked ass, exposed earlier when she’d slumped his now-purposeless waistband above his mid-thigh. The other hand is eagerly stroking at a cock she found purely by feel, barely managing a steady rhythm nevermind a glimpse for the split attention she pays to fervidly kissing him.
When any thought finally manages to break through the frontline of his raging hormones, it is the worry that he has kept Nemmie for too long. Mustering a solvent of regrettable composure and responsibility, Sol’s mouth breaks away from hers for a moment.
Sol pants to catch the breath necessary to ask his question.
"Is this ok? You don't need~ to be at the Garrison?" He manages to huff.
Nemmie is ablush, light sweat highlighting her soft-angled features. Her eyes almost drunkenly follow his own. Sol is relieved that she paused her hand’s motion at the sudden interruption so he can focus.
She gives him a luscious smile, tinted heavy with desire. This is the first time she’s felt this way in a long time. Being intimate with someone she feels genuine love with; it feels good. Rightfully, the rest of the world is a smudged blur at this moment.
“I don’t care right now. They can~ get by without me~ for one day. I’m not going anywhere.” She purrs the last words. She surrenders his dick to grab the back of his neck and pulls him back to her, locking their lips once again.
Her enthusiasm stokes Sol’s own and he’s filled with a heady confidence. His hand rounds her torso and bundles her sweater in its grasp. Their impassioned snogging pauses again briefly as Nemmie aids him, eager to doff the overwarm garment. She still hitches at the sudden nudity, drawing sharply at the air as her surprising bust tumbles from beneath it, jiggling to rest.
Sol tosses the sweater to the ground- where it lands on Nemmie’s forgotten plate- and places hands on either side of her face, continuing their kissing and letting his fingers fall slowly from her face, glancing off her collar to land at her exposed chest. Nemmie’s own hands shift their task to holding and caressing him.
Nemmie is sighing approval into his mouth and chin as he kneads her tits and deftly rubs and rolls her nipples in his fingers. Shuffling his legs back he kisses a brief farewell as he departs to blaze a trail through freckles and scales, leaving loving pecks down her jawline
her neck
her collarbone
and down to her chest
to land upon the smooth,
sparsely freckled and
more-sparsely scaled
pale skin of her breast.
Sol purposefully languishes as his lips near her wide, satin-soft and rosy areola. It’s gentle gradation ramping to a peak at her stiffened nipple. It’s striking how delicate it looks, in contrast to Nemmie herself. His hungry mouth hangs open. Bearing heated, deliberate, heavy breaths upon it as he hesitates.
A glance toward her face reveals her expectant expression. Sweat beading now upon her knitted brow, her teeth biting her lower lip, a deep red blush so strong it almost washes out her hair. And finally, Sol focuses on the tightly shut eyes, and the furtive peek from behind her lashes. Eagerly awaiting her partner’s next move.
Sol’s heart does a backflip in his chest.
Nemmie’s head drops back as Sol takes her nipple into his mouth. Mewling out his name above him and winding her fingers about his hair. Mindful not to heap attention on all at once, he spreads affection to the center of her chest, down to the peak of her rugged abs and back again, though despite his best effort, he finds it impossible to fight the charm her breast has him under for long.
The honey-sweet notes of Nemmie’s giggles spur him and he deftly skims his fingertips about her midsection. Tracing the well-defined crests and troughs of her musculature, he plays against her ticklish sensitivity. Feeling her tensing in telling response, he brings the palm down as well, caressing her waist, and running into the hem of her sweatpants with intentional clumsiness as he does.
Nemmie’s hands reach down to the waistband of her sweatpants. Sol resists her, wordlessly insisting instead on fouling modesty. She trusts his course, and relents. Sol instead dances about the threshold some more, sliding fingers just under the band before slipping out again.
At last, he slides crossways from her hip to the opposite thigh, breaching the elastic waistband’s threshold into oppressive, damp warmth and brushing over untended hairs. A high, soft whimper follows as; swiping inward, the tips of his fingers slip off her thigh one-by-one and drum down on her groin.
Sol rests the ball of his hand on her pelvis, with fingers poised above. Without taking any further action, Sol looks up to Nemmie, and frees his mouth to speak.
“Hey. Is this alright with you?”
Nemmie’s eye flutter open. For the most part she’s been happily surrendered to feeling her partner’s touch, reclined with her head lolled back, gasping open-mouthed as the sensations sent her heart to flutter and mind to hum. She looks down to Sol. They’re both flushed, sweat running down their faces now as things have escalated. She’s overwhelmed for a moment. But there’s no hesitation to consent in her heart or mind.
The realization comes to her that she's only just now hearing the question this way. There’s no apathy, no insistence or obligation.
It’s just love.
Caring.
Her heart all but floats out of her chest.
She places a hand to his cheek.
“This is perfect. Please, keep going.” The words come out a little softer than the firm encouragement she’d pitched in her head.
The warm smile that he gives her is almost radiant. His eyes brighten and every feature of his face shines, as if her attraction was dawning on her all at once a second time.
“So perfect~ .” she quietly comments as she lets her head tilt back again, letting herself luxuriate in the attention paid to her.
Sol’s fingers pounce, curling down over her vulva and rubbing his hand briefly over the whole of it, allowing the furrows to envelop his fingers as they will. Nemmie’s thighs involuntarily clinch his hand like a vice. Embarrassment shoots across her mind before it’s excised as he chuckles and plants a particularly sweet kiss in the middle of her chest. She relaxes as much as she can, and feels Sol’s touch at the entrance of her slit.
She forces herself not to trap his hand a second time.
His middle and ring fingers slip inside and rock back and forth just there at the cusp. Their slow, steady motion is delightfully frustrating to her. The lack of insistence is unfamiliar, as her past partner was far too boorishly single-minded to luxuriate in lead-in. She likes this far better.
Sol hones in on each twitch as they hit his lover, waiting for the moment those reactions start to calm before pressing further, and bristles with joy as she releases a husky moan and tightens around his digits. He digs his fingers further in to stroke against the walls and roof feeling for the slight ridges and following them to their origin. Nemmie gasps through grit teeth as he prods. Feeling herself teetering on a long-approaching orgasm. Sol is ready to give it to her, and brings his palm down to grind against her clit, sending her barreling into release. She tenses powerfully; inside and out, grabbing onto Sol as her voice bellows in ecstasy, loud enough that Sol briefly worries if all of Geoponics heard her.
Her hands clutch onto him, almost painfully but he bears with it. Her head nestles in the nook of his collar. Her body occasionally spasms as she comes down from her orgasm. In their loose embrace the pair breathe together for a fair while, Sol breaking the silence and retrieving his hand.
“So I did good then, yeah?”
Nemmie huffs a short laugh, and punches him very gently on his arm.
“You were… I don’t think~ That might be the- the hardest I’ve ever…” She pulls away to speak to him, instead, she sees him with his fingers knuckle deep in his mouth, suckling at something slowly running down and dripping off of his hands. Warmth rises in her face, and she tentatively touches the crotch of her sweatpants.
They are soaked .
Sol opens his eyes. And sees Nemmie’s shocked state.
“Don’t worry. You can borrow something.” He leans in to plant a kiss on her, it’s… tangy and salty but not un- pleasant. The reality of events buzzes in her-
“It isn’t the first time you left them here drenched.”
Now Nemmie punches his arm for real.
Nemmie stands over Sol, shuffling out of the dampened pants, and stands naked in front of her love for the first- well, for the first time as an adult; when it has meaning.
Sol drinks in the sight with the same greedy manner he had his fingers. Nemmie exclaims as Sol wraps his arms around her hips and brings her to his face.
"Hey! Sol!" Is all she manages to get out before she's quieted by him kissing about her pelvis and inner thighs. She feels a prickling of shame.
"M'sorry I haven't… shaved".
Sol noses into her wild, dark bush, and speaks into her, "Don't be. I like it."
"Stars, thank you!" Nemmie's body slacks in relief.
"Shaving sucks! Any nick means new scales! And stubble is so itchy ! But Vace hated… bush~ "
Her words wither as Sol’s licking and kissing threatens to become more. Nemmie snaps to and pushes his head back with his tongue still lolled out.
“Hold up there, loverboy. I think I’ve had enough for now. I can’t be the only one naked and being played with here.” Her voice carries a hint of disappointment, having forgotten about him when she fell deep into her own pleasure earlier. And he must’ve tucked himself back into his pants earlier. “Boo~” she thinks to herself.
Sol giggles, brightening her thoughts a touch. He stands, getting very close to her and those thoughts now glare in her mind.
“Lemme grab this first.” He says turning to the couch and working to remove the stained sleeve from its cushion.
“BOO~!”
“We should be in my room, anyhow. It does have a lock afterall.” He says pointedly. She bends down to pick up her sweats, stopping to bite his ass, startling him- before trotting away and calling back “You better hurry up.”
Sol takes her instruction to heart and quickly appears just as she sits on the edge of his bed. Locking the door and dumping the cushion sleeve on top of where she had dropped her sweats- “ deal with it later. ” they each concluded separately.
Sol took a step toward where she sat before she halted him
“Nah ah- strip.”
Sol laughs a little, grabbing the hem of his undershirt and lifting it off. She’d seen him shirtless many times before. As teens are wont to do, when his augment surfaced he showed off his powerful build at any opportunity. But wow context shifts things a mite. Stolen glances and- at times, outright ogling at his rugged musculature and light dustings of dark hair against rich sandy skin were nothing compared to when it was being put on intimate display for an audience of one.
She could feel a tangible rise of excitement as his thumbs hooked ‘round his waistband. And without thinking her hand came to rest on her crotch, setting the area alight with sensation.
Finally, Sol’s pants fall loose, and she could fill in the blanks on the cock she’d held earlier. It isn’t fully hard yet, she guesses. But it is getting there now, exposed and waiting for attention. Beneath a lazily-tended patch of curled hair, the shaft doesn’t darken too much more than the rest of Sol’s warmly coloured skin- apart from the light plum-toned head she saw now, his erection forcing the skin back and lifting the shaft away from where it hung off of his balls. With the garment kicked off his feet, Sol too, was naked before his love, and gave himself a few encouraging pumps, and waited for her to bid him forward.
Nemmie wasn’t quite finished admiring.
It was a poorly kept secret what her ex’s augment was- boastful as he is. For all his bluster, it brought more pain than pleasure. Sure, it was novel in concept, but that was as far as it could go, literally. Sol’s, on the other hand, was more manageable, and- it felt to her like a strange way to describe it- but, prettier. Yeah, Yeah! Sol’s dick was pretty, she found herself doubling down on the descriptor. There was a definite allure to it, the shape was appealing, there was even a cute, kissable bulging vein near the base.
Crap- was she leaning forward? The side of her chin feels cool against the air, she turns in vain to hide it, then throws out her hand and waves it for Sol to take. When he takes hold, she pulls him over to sit beside her. Wiping drool onto her palm and keenly disguising it by running her tongue over it as she turns to him, and grasps his cock.
Sol is moaning just a short while later. Plenty pent up since he poured focus onto Nemmie’s pleasure earlier. His cock is all but gushing slick pre-cum and Nemmie can't help playing her fingers in the mess, making for all manner of sloppy, wet noises. Nemmie has leaned into him now, one leg on the bed curled around his butt while she hugs her chest against his side and kisses and nibbles at his neck. His body is craned back supporting himself on his hands and giving Nemmie quite a show of his muscles flexing while he does his best to weather her efforts.
“Enjoying yourself, loverboy?” She coos into his ear, sending lightning scattering all over his skin and almost forcing him over the edge. In his reaction; the subtle ways his brow knits itself, hearing his breath blow past his teeth in stifled half-formed moans, she feels something stir in her mind, an almost-malice, but playful. It whispers its intent- pleasure, to be sure… but taken the long way ‘round.
She’s happy to comply.
“Tell me…” she continues. His skin in close focus from where she watches, raises in bumps at her words tickling on his ear. His apparent and woeful need raises her own skin in turn.
“what you want.” Her breathy words sough into him, and she punctuates with a nip on his earlobe, and he tenses wonderfully under her grip.
Sol draws a sharp breath in, struggling to keep it amid her smooth gliding hand and very successful teasing.
Sol starts- but falsely as she angles her thumb to graze the crown on each stroke, and slows down drastically. Sol scrunches his face, and braces to try again.
“I w~ anh!” He's cut off again when she begins to twist her fingers in a ring repeatedly over the crown alone, the stimulation is superb, but limited, and not enough to cross the threshold. She swells seeing him look so hot and frustrated, his hips pitching at random angles hoping to find some position that will set him over the edge.
Starting from a growling moan, Sol finally manages to beg his lover desperately “Please! I want to cum!”
The pace of Nemmie's hand becomes rapid, focusing pressure on the underside and pumping in quick flashes from base to tip. She agrees they've waited long enough- they both want this, now.
She holds a suspenseful breath…
A prolonged groan behind clenched teeth marks his hard-fought release. She strokes heavily downward and cum streaks into the air at impressive speed- splattering onto his abs and chest. A second shot is flung across them both, stealing the held breath from her in an erotic shock. The remaining three loads roil forth; robbed of momentum, and seep onto her hand; coating it in slimy satisfaction. Sol collapses onto his back, arms tired and in need of rest.
Held still, she watches the cum flow down and pool in the crook between her thumb and his swollen head spill and run off. The excess tantalizingly makes its way down his cock before slowing on the vein at the base in a pointed and certain dare.
Unbidden, her tongue slips her teeth, and runs itself over her lips.
Sol is breathing heavily, an arm over his eyes as he collects himself. A jolt runs cold, spindly trails through his nerves as Nemmie’s lips make contact on his sensitive cock. The barest brush and a rush of air as she slurps about where her hand rests. It’s almost painful for how sensitive he is after such a tremendous orgasm.
Her attention is rapt in the cum whirling over her tongue in a salinous dance carried on dulcet notes of curious sweetness. But a sound somewhere between a sigh and a hiss of pain wakes Nemmie from the dreamy state her senses left her. Suddenly made aware how obscene she must seem greedily sucking up every drop of his semen like a thirsty beast at a puddle, she feels her face start glowing red. A hand gently falls on the top of her head. She seizes for a moment, before the fingers splay out and rub into her scalp. The sensation is… tender, and pleasurable in a different, less overt way. The waves of comfort let her nervous thoughts ease. She swallows, eager for the rest.
She smears all corners of her mouth and tongue with the growingly intoxicating taste. Soon, she’s completely cleaned her hand and the head and suckles down, down… down to the enticing pearls clinging to his- “Yeah, no two ways about it, I find the vein on his cock cute. ” she mentally surrenders. Making good on her earlier assessment she plants a deep kiss on it, making the whole of his cock throb in protest to its gradual softening.
The rubbing on her head pauses and the hand holds onto the side, gently guiding her to look up at her lover. He’s swiped some the cum from his abdomen onto his other thumb, and holds it between her and his own jovial smile.
“You missed some.” He ribs, just about recovered from his orgasm. Her head hovers slowly toward the presented digit, irrespective of his hand. Her eyelids become heavy, so focused on the offering the rest of her vision bleeds away. Her already parted lips allow Sol to line up to both stop her bottom lip on the body of his thumb, while he curls the tip past her lips and onto her tongue. The plush, perfectly smooth interior of her lips closing behind his thumb. Her tongue teases up from the shaft, slithering up the length to steal the sticky soupçon away. They both linger in this mutual contact, Nemmie still swirling about and suckling at his thumb, mutually sewing lurid seeds in their subconsciouses.
Sol hooks his thumb over her teeth, joining his fingers in holding her chin and jaw. Pulling her up to his face. He allows his thumb to slide out from the pursed lips pinching it as it goes bringing his hand to cup her cheek and making space to press his lips to hers. He tastes himself on her, as he had done to her earlier- “ Knew eating all that bobberfruit would pay off” he preens in his mind. The kiss doesn’t overstay, simple in its message of adoring appreciation. They part, and in preemptive answer to any future ribbing, Nemmie lowers herself to the rest of the cum on his torso.
She swallows the last of it, giving Sol a demure look to say ‘ there, happy?’ The eroticism doesn’t last as Sol seizes her about the shoulders, yanks her up and goofily slobbers at the cum that had landed on her, bringing her to laughter and soon to overstated reactions as if it’s the hottest thing she’d ever experienced. They flop onto their backs, still laughing, and heave a sigh.
“How do you feel?” Sol asks, turning in towards her, planting a smooch on her tit and wrapping an arm around her.
Nemmie takes a deep breath in. She’s… elated, but that’s obvious, she just spent who cares how long fooling around with her beautiful, lifelong friend that she finally admitted to loving. She cozies into him, rubbing the arm he’s got holding her.
“I don’t- I can’t put words to how I feel, I think.” She murmurs, the words in a vacuum could sound discouraging, but she’s smiling into them and they almost seem triumphant. In his head, Sol knows it’s a positive response.
“I like this though.” She follows, a little stronger. Her hand has instinctually found the site where her name is embedded on his shoulder in ink. Her finger traces circles around it absentmindedly.
Sol rolls her over in his hug to face him and rests his chin against her forehead. He inhales deep at her hair, drawing her attention to where he is. She feels him press a tender kiss on the top of her head, an action that causes her to bristle with joyous tingles and smile wide in reflexive giggling.
In this moment, there’s no room for anger, Sol has filled the space with sweetness.
There’s no pain to be felt past the radiating bliss of being here with him.
She draws him in tight. And speaks the last words before they let themselves drift off into a late-afternoon nap
“You have a pretty dick~”