彡 san's room

@amberly yang Your tinkling amusement has my fingers pressing more firmly into your waist, frustrated that you finally took the chance to turn the tables and torture me. My willpower is weak with the way your gaze settles on mine and with the way you held yourself.
Ah, I guess I did. I should've seen you retaliating, coming. Don't take not of it, Amberly. You're killing me here.
Your devious touch had my nostrils flaring, struggling to keep my breathing steady. My hands slowly travel from your waist to the curve of your , cupping it with a firm squeeze. Pulls you in closer, enough so for you to be able to feel my excitement against your thighs.
I do have a job to do, can't be taking advantage of your lack of a frontal lobe. This little act of defiance could very well be a symptom, and I am falling for it. What a terrible therapist I am.
As I speak, my fingers slip beneath your skirt, fingers curling into the fabric of your black stockings, dragging down until the sound of them ripping cuts through the air.
Whoops. I will have to buy you another pair, Miss Yang

@amberly yang (i am gunna do the reply to our thread from tags here!!! it was getting really long and hard to keep up in tags cuz it'd disappear under faster things I could reply to KSDSJ)

amberly yang 2 days ago Reply
@choi san nah, i just adore messing with you. yeah, yeah.
my lips curl into a triumphant grin, the soft sound of your groan replaying in my mind like a victory hymn. i allow myself a quiet giggle, the delicate echo of my amusement lingering in the air as your hands finally settle firmly on my waist, inviting me into the warmth of your space.
and whose fault is that, hm? you brought this onto yourself so now… deal with it. ah, so it was the stockings. good to know. very good to know.
with slow, calculated grace, my fingers lift to the crisp collar of your shirt. they trace the sharp lines of the fabric, brushing over the fine stitching as though committing every thread to memory while the manicured nails graze the sensitive skin just beneath, a fleeting touch meant to tease rather than soothe.
what happened to no funny business during therapy hours, hm? i can… everything on me is very… replaceable.