[ A huff passes his lips, not to scoff at her or the revelation of their shared inexperience, but because he's relieved to hear it. ] That makes me feel better, [ he confesses, a flinch-quick squint of his eyes standing in for a wince at himself, ] Oddly.
[ Marina makes him feel soft and vulnerable in ways that should alarm him rather than steep him in an effervescent warmth. One might dismiss Pinocchio's easy acceptance as ignorance, but she doesn't have that excuse. She knows he isn't like her and she welcomes him anyway, vouches for his autonomy in ways people usually don't. Maybe this had started as a game of hunter and wolf, but just like their first encounter had started with one-sided adversity, they meet again as friends and equals.
He insists, wordlessly, on helping; his prosthetic has many vexing hard angles that like to catch and snag on more flexible cloth. Just enough to get her started before he works on her blouse, plucking buttons clumsily until he, impatiently, smooths his palms down over her chest, gripping a handful of fabric at her ribs and pulling it over her head.
Sometimes, he can't help getting in their way — ducking down to snatch another kiss from her mouth, or a palm unerringly drawn to her blushing cock, indulging her in a curious, too-brief caress. It's when he's trying to find how to unfasten her skirt that he suddenly huffs out a helpless, amused noise. ]
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[ Marina makes him feel soft and vulnerable in ways that should alarm him rather than steep him in an effervescent warmth. One might dismiss Pinocchio's easy acceptance as ignorance, but she doesn't have that excuse. She knows he isn't like her and she welcomes him anyway, vouches for his autonomy in ways people usually don't. Maybe this had started as a game of hunter and wolf, but just like their first encounter had started with one-sided adversity, they meet again as friends and equals.
He insists, wordlessly, on helping; his prosthetic has many vexing hard angles that like to catch and snag on more flexible cloth. Just enough to get her started before he works on her blouse, plucking buttons clumsily until he, impatiently, smooths his palms down over her chest, gripping a handful of fabric at her ribs and pulling it over her head.
Sometimes, he can't help getting in their way — ducking down to snatch another kiss from her mouth, or a palm unerringly drawn to her blushing cock, indulging her in a curious, too-brief caress. It's when he's trying to find how to unfasten her skirt that he suddenly huffs out a helpless, amused noise. ]
How do I work this?