Your thoughts scatter when he unhooks the front of your bra and palms your breasts, measured squeezing just enough to be on the line between too much and not enough. One knee plants itself in the mattress. A choked sigh escapes you as he settles fully in, and his firm arms wrap around your middle. Your quirk your brow down at him, sparing a moment to take in the smooth curve of his spine down to the false musculature of his rear. He is a bad idea, but he always has been. So you built him a body to go with it, based on his design. He catches your mouth with his own, strangely dry one, and you feel his hands slipping under the meager fabric of your sports bra.
Lorelei. Age: 22.
He responds by arching his back just so, and a slow, rhythmic pulse travels from where his hips meet yours down through the entirety of where he penetrates you.
Aliyah. Age: 20.
Your hands abandon their post on his shoulders to cling to his back, feeling your fingertips find the groove between his muscle fibers and wiring. It has less to do with comfort-in-skin than it does a complete disregard for bodies. One knee plants itself in the mattress.