[He tenses against her when their faces are in contact, more than brushing glances. This is territory he knows, is familiar with; though he's only ever kissed men, whose tastes skew his androgynous and delicate direction, mouths are not so different. Alex's lips are fuller, though, plump and pillowy. She smells like sun and sea spray, not so dissimilar to the way Cerise's favorite places smell, and perhaps that means something?
He rocks against her, pushing before he realizes it, coaxing her backwards in a direction that would result in her shoulderblades against the warm sand. Instinctively, he reaches for a member that does not exist, and the heel of his hand settles beneath her stomach, pressing, kneading. He wants guidance; his other hand searches for hers, inquiring and joining.
no subject
He rocks against her, pushing before he realizes it, coaxing her backwards in a direction that would result in her shoulderblades against the warm sand. Instinctively, he reaches for a member that does not exist, and the heel of his hand settles beneath her stomach, pressing, kneading. He wants guidance; his other hand searches for hers, inquiring and joining.
Like this?]