sampippy | Outside Voorhees Hall, Columbia University, New York, Thursday

In Terre D'Ange, taking one's clothing off--or undressing a lover--was considered part of the whole process. Something to be savored and enjoyed, not just a short interruption in the midst of everything else. So rather than rush into getting naked, Hya took his time, letting the fine linen of his shirt fall from his shoulders and catch on his arms, then slowly drawing it off to tumble to the floor.

It wasn't a strip tease, exactly. No bump'n grind, no exaggerated movements, just constant eye contact and an appreciation for each part of the body that was uncovered next, heightening the anticipation for whatever remained clothed.

His hands slid down to the front of his pants, fingers brushing over the bulge there. He shivered, then unfastened the laces, letting them fall open to reveal a thatch of shorn curls.

And on and on and on until he was standing in front of her, completely naked for her perusal.

Yeah, none of that made her stare at him any less. The only thing that changed was where she stared, because her gaze was compulsively drawn to whatever was being exposed at any given moment. And when he was taking his clothes off like that, every inch of skin was suddenly equally fascinating, from the curve of his shoulders to the muscles in his legs.

She'd seen him naked before, but she hadn't really seen him naked before, you know? Not like this, every piece of clothing an anticipation and the end result him just standing there, open to her gaze.

She continued to envy his confidence.

She was also completely lost for words, because anything she could've said was likely to just come out jumbled and kind of embarrassing, so she was choosing instead to look him over like she couldn't even comprehend the hotness. It was a good look.

Hyacinthe didn't mind being stared at. Even only half-D'Angelline, he still knew he was pretty. And, even if he hadn't had that kind of confidence, the way Xanthippe was looking at him was gratifying enough to make it all worth while.

"Touch me," he said, voice soft. Her reached for her hand, brushing it over his abs. "Wherever you want. However you want. Anything you're curious about, anything you want to explore...I'm here for you." He quirked a grin at her, brown eyes merry. "And we'll see how long I last under your explorations."

Xanthippe had heard boys (and, well, men) telling her to touch them, before. But never before in a way that was so completely non-gross. Or in a way that seemed to be more for her benefit and pleasure than someone just trying to use her.

That seemed to put a kind of shine in her eyes.

And she pushed herself upright so that she could sit on the edge of her bed. That put her pretty close to his body, but that was a good thing. You couldn't really explore from afar, right? Her hand was still on his abs; the other reached up for his chest. Her palm dragged over one side of it, her thumb bumping over his nipple.

The most disappointing thing Hyacinthe had discovered about this time was how gross other men were. They all needed Elua, like, immediately.

But yes, he made no bones about the fact that he would enjoy whatever Xanthippe did to him, but more than anything else, he wanted her to feel comfortable. To learn what she liked to do and see and touch. To discover what kinds of reactions she could elicit, so she could create them deliberately.

Like the soft moan he gave when his nipples hardened under her thumb and the way the muscles in his abs jumped at her touch. "See this, cherie?" he asked, gesturing at himself. "You are in control here. With every caress, your power grows, see?"

"I don't think it's my power that's growing."

Ooh, look who managed to make dirty-ish quip! It was a start, at least. Something that showed she wasn't as tightly wound right now as she had been some moments ago in the living room. In fact, she'd pretty much forgotten about the living room for now. Right now, her desire to make him moan more wasn't fueled by the idea that maybe her roommates would hear and think she was somehow cooler for it.

She ran her other hand up to his chest as well, so that she could repeat her earlier motion on both sides at once. You know, just to verify that was a thing he enjoyed. It was very scientific! And then she ran her hands slowly down his sides. First to his hips, where she got familiar with where his hipbones jutted out. Then a little ways down to his thighs, where her touch was light and almost tentative. Very aware of where she wasn't touching him - yet - even if her gaze was drawn there more than once or twice.

As her hands slid up and then around to his ass, she looked up at him again. Biting her lip. "Could you, um... say my name?"

Cherie sounded super hot rolling off his lips right now. She had a guess her name would be just as good, if not even better.

His chuckle was a warm rumble and he leaned down to kiss her for the request. "Of course, Xanthippe," he said, as he closed the distance between them. "Anything you want tonight is yours, and your name on my tongue is the an easy one to grant."

And then he kissed her, lazy and playful, at least until a shiver from her hands on his thighs pulled him away again. "Your touch is maddening," he said with approval. "Makes me want to ask for more."

In another bold move, by her standards, Xanthippe tried to bite his lip right before he pulled back again. She could at least try for playful, too, now that she was momentarily a little more relaxed.

"And what would you, like, ask for?"

She remembered from last time that she liked hearing him say all kinds of things. That was her main motivation for asking.

She caught him and his hands flexed on the bed, a soft moan low in his throat. "Well, now, more of your mouth," he said when she released him. "Anywhere you'd like to put it." His phallus cried out for attention and he ignored it, claiming her mouth again for a kiss that was a little shorter and hotter than the last. "You use it well, Xanthippe," he said in a soft growl.

See, yes, that was exactly the way she'd hoped to hear her name from him. It wasn't something she was used to hearing said with anything approaching desire, and so to call it a thrill was a severe understatement.

Good thing her cheeks were pretty much permanently a blushing pink by now.

Trying not to overthink anything, she ducked her head, and her mouth found the curve where his neck met his shoulder. And she gave that an experimental little nip. Then another, a little further up. And, it'd worked for her when he'd sucked on her neck, so obviously she had to try that, too.

"You know," he said, panting in her ear. "This went a lot differently in my head." His hips thrust against her mattress, needing something with her teeth in his neck like that. "I was expecting to be a lot more cool and collected. Impressing you with my composure while you explored me all over." Of their own volition, his hands tangled in her hair. "Now 'tis all I can do not to tip you backwards and rub against you until you scream."

Xanthippe gasped. Yes, at just those words, although that thrust hadn't gone unnoticed either. To know she could have that effect on someone as attractive and, let's face it, experiences as him... Basically, her whole body seemed to be tingling and she was kind of wondering whether her jeans were damp at the crotch by now. Which was a thought that felt like it would have normally felt embarrassing, but with him here and behind closed doors -- she hadn't really had reason to wonder about that before, you know? It turned into a thrill.

Incidentally, her jeans were damp.

And probably getting more so with those words of his. "I mean..." she started, and had to pause and swallow when her voice sounded hoarse. She licked her lips, and bit his neck again, before she continued. Her lips pulling into a hesitant little smirk. "I'm not sure why you, like, shouldn't? I don't even know if I'm a screamer. No one's tried before."

Not counting several non-sexy incidents.

"Well, the original plan had been to let you be fully in control," Hyacinthe said, his teeth claiming her ear. "Let you decide what comes next and set the pace. Part of showing you everything is letting you choose what to do with me."

He gently pushed her over backwards, settling his weight over her, his length pressed right over where she was damp--and his rich laugh said he'd noticed that she was, even through her jeans. "But I think I underestimated how difficult you make it to keep my hands to myself, Xan. To say nothing of the rest of me." He kissed his way down her throat, delivering up the same delicious torment she'd been heaping on him. "Mayhaps I can try again, later, hmm?"

"Sorry I screwed up your plan," Xanthippe murmured, but she wasn't sorry at all. If there were better outcomes than Hya of all people not staying cool around her, she couldn't think of any.

Her hands found themselves in his hair. Her legs? Around his waist, for now. It was only natural. "I'm totally gonna let you try again later."

"Nay, you're not," Hyacinthe said with another laugh. "You're smirking. I can tell." He leaned down brushing by her lips and over her cheek to nip the sensitive patch of skin where her neck met her shoulder. "Tell me what you want me to do," he said. "Tell me what you want so I can give it to you."

"I don't know." The slight whininess of that statement was either because of the nipping or the difficulty of sorting out her wants, or both. Probably both, actually. "That thing about the, uh, rubbing and the screaming --" Oh hey, here were the stumbly words again! Lest he think she'd gotten completely smooth with this. "-- sounded really good."

Damp jeans good.

Right, he'd said they could say whatever they wanted. She was trying to hold onto that thought. "So I guess what I want is... I wanna know if you can make me scream? But like, the main thing I want is, I want..." And, hey, here was something she'd never said out loud to anyone! So there was an awkward pause, and her hands played with his hair in a fidgety way, while she gathered the courage. And felt embarrassed for needing to. "I want you to make me come. Like, I don't even care how, I just need you to do it."

"Oh, Xan," Hyacinthe whispered, shaking his head before giving her a sweet kiss. "That, I am all to happy to do."

Remember all that nonsense about D'Angelines taking their time with undressing? Forget it. Hyacinthe didn't have the patience for that right now. His fingers found the front of her jeans, opening them up with a muttered curse. "May I suggest dresses for the rest of the time I am here?" he muttered. "If you persist with the foolish notion you must be dressed at all?"

He wanted her naked. Now.

"All my dresses are super short," Xanthippe replied as she did her best to tilt her hips in a way that would be helpful to his efforts. Also no, it wasn't an objection. "Is that close enough to naked if there's no panties...?"

She was definitely riding on the wave of the last explicit-ish thing she'd said going over well to get that out of her mouth.

"Yes," Hyacinthe said, dragging her pants and underwear down. It would have been nice to ease them down, let them fall nicely on the floor, follow the path they took with kisses. That wasn't what was happening, though. He pulled them off as far as they'd go, then left her to kick them off with her feet as he divested her of her shirt. "So long as I may slide by hands beneath it whenever I wish." He peeled her bra down, hands pausing in the act to cup her breasts while he groaned. "Can you play cool, cherie? Can you act normal while my fingers are toying with your pearl where no one can see?"

"I can't even act normal when I am normal." Whoops, that was a little more honest than intended, maybe. Probably a side effect of how this frantic undressing wasn't giving her any time to get too self-conscious about her body or much of anything else, either.

Either way, she was going to swiftly move forward with the talking. While trying to arch up against his hands. "I guess the only way to know for sure would be to try," she said. "I mean, where exactly would you do that...?"

Totally fishing to hear more dirty talk.

Hyacinthe was only too happy to oblige her--at least until he needed his mouth for something else.

"Anywhere," he said, kissing along her collarbone. "Everywhere. I shall drag you into a closet somewhere on this campus and kneel before you while you struggle to remain quiet. I will invite your roommates out to eat and play with you all through dinner below the table. And at least once, I will walk in from another room and slide my fingers inside you just to sat hello."

Xanthippe whimpered. She kind of wanted to stay more cool than that, but it was her most honest reaction. "Who needs panties anyway," she mumbled, not at all wittily. "Guess I'm wearing a dress after this."

He'd sold her on the idea. Not that it had been very difficult.

She could join Kathy in the "Short Skirts Fuck Panties" Club. It was a great club; the perks were delightful.

"Good," he murmured, unsnapping her bra and letting it fall where it may. "Ahh, Xanthippe, I cannot wait to lose my fingers inside you." One hand skimmed down her body towards her hip, the other circled her breast, teasing the nipple to a hard point for his mouth. "And my tongue."

And another part, lying hot on the smooth skin of her stomach, but that, as he was sternly reminding himself, was for later.

First he wished to see if he could make her scream.

Xanthippe was very, very aware of the other part. But she was also very aware of his total lack of rushing into sticking that one in her. And while right now she would've more than gladly welcomed it (greedily, even), it still pleased her that he wasn't pushing for that. Blame her garbage previous experiences.

She wasn't thinking about them right now.

Her body was reacting to his touch, nipples stiffening, breath catching at the simple sensation of his hand on her hip. But she was watching his face. Somehow that was the best part. Seeing his lips move with those words. "Yeah, that -- thing about wanting you in me?" she murmured. "Like, that still stands. Actually, even more than before."

Hyacinthe wanted to push that inside of her, to thrust so far in that his hips hurt with the strain. But not as much as he wanted to hear her moan and sigh and cry out.

That those others didn't offer the same consideration was terrible. Garbage indeed.

"I'll give it to you," he promised in a whisper, his hand tracing circles over her hips, her thighs, her lower belly. Everywhere but there, ramping up the desire. "But first, I want you to she needed it."

And only then did his hand dip between her folds, tracing over their soft lines before circling around her pearl of Naamah.

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