Re: Log, Marvel: Peggy C & Steve R
Gloriously selfish was precisely what Steve wanted too. The both of them spent far too much time having to act one way to get doors to open, it was ecstasy in itself to simply be oneself around each other. But this helped too. His tie was gone, and it was not Steve's first time with a woman atop him. But, Peggy was more than a woman to him. She was soft, her mouth on his electric, her hair trailing down his chest as her lips did the same, and he couldn't help but squirm, expectation, anticipation.
"Peggy—" Steve managed stupidly, her thighs going tight around him, and his hips bucking up by instinct to meet hers. As for best attributes, black lace and all, he couldn't even stare. That took too much passivity. Instead, he reached for her, for her waist, and his mouth found her breast where it swelled against the meshed lattice, and he let his tongue dart beneath it, to pink budded nipple. He had fingers in her hair and he came back up to kiss her, surfaced breathless and dazed. "You're beautiful."—She was. She really was. He was sure he had never seen anyone more beautiful, inside or out, and it was plain on all-American features, elbowing alongside 70 years of desire that turned those blue eyes dark, almost moody.
Of course, the earnest sentiment was perhaps skewed somewhat when he clashed up to meet her, too eager to feel her skin on his, but for all his gentleness—and his touch was just that, too tender—he was greedy. His hands found her ass, rolled her down in pressure and palm, so he could feel her, her weight and heat, as he sought her lips again.