[ She's so good at it, he could almost imagine she's practiced. As he watches her reach for the clasp of her bra, he wonders if this means she's enjoying it as much as he is. She's definitely better at keeping that to herself, though that's because the evidence of how much he likes seeing her like this is more or less at eye level for her right now.
His gaze wanders appreciatively over her bare chest as he slowly winds the leash around his hand, turning his wrist to pull it taut. Not enough to tug at her, but enough that the strap itself is tense. ]
Yeah, that's better.
[ His other hand goes to the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning his fly, pushing the zipper and then his underwear down with a singular lack of shame. He's already half hard when he pulls himself out, though he doesn't do any more than stroke his dick once before letting go again. This time, there's no order, no suggestion except the weight of his gaze on her. ]
no subject
His gaze wanders appreciatively over her bare chest as he slowly winds the leash around his hand, turning his wrist to pull it taut. Not enough to tug at her, but enough that the strap itself is tense. ]
Yeah, that's better.
[ His other hand goes to the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning his fly, pushing the zipper and then his underwear down with a singular lack of shame. He's already half hard when he pulls himself out, though he doesn't do any more than stroke his dick once before letting go again. This time, there's no order, no suggestion except the weight of his gaze on her. ]