[ He feels a prickle of delight that his prompting has had the intended effect as she starts to explain, with detail, exactly what she means. He's heard of the use of toys before, of course - he was a teenager for a good few years before his eventual death - but the nineteenth century wasn't exactly well known for its progressive masturbation aids. They certainly didn't have strap ons, he's sure of that much.
When her hand slides down across her body Lestat follows the path of her fingers like a snake waiting to strike once the mouse gets close enough, his silvery eyes almost glossy with interest. He thinks about the practicality of it, the idea of the fastenings pressing into his hardened skin, fitting over his dead appendage when the blood fails to make it hard enough. But, he can't deny how much better it is to imagine the squeeze of her beautiful skin instead, poised over him, armed with the tool to slide inside him and the knowledge of how to make it feel good. How badly he wants to dip into her mind and see how she pieces these things together - so bad he has to bite back at his lip at just the thought alone, his hands flexing as if resisting the urge to touch.
He's never imagined a woman doing that to him, because of the aforementioned lack of any community exposure with progressive thinking, but God, does it make his heartrate spike. ]
I see... You'd have me like a dog, would you? [ He prompts, but he definitely doesn't sound put out about it. In fact, he sounds pretty all about that idea. ] Bent over so you can wind your hand into my hair and have your way with me?
..... good point! take this as our nsfw warning o9
When her hand slides down across her body Lestat follows the path of her fingers like a snake waiting to strike once the mouse gets close enough, his silvery eyes almost glossy with interest. He thinks about the practicality of it, the idea of the fastenings pressing into his hardened skin, fitting over his dead appendage when the blood fails to make it hard enough. But, he can't deny how much better it is to imagine the squeeze of her beautiful skin instead, poised over him, armed with the tool to slide inside him and the knowledge of how to make it feel good. How badly he wants to dip into her mind and see how she pieces these things together - so bad he has to bite back at his lip at just the thought alone, his hands flexing as if resisting the urge to touch.
He's never imagined a woman doing that to him, because of the aforementioned lack of any community exposure with progressive thinking, but God, does it make his heartrate spike. ]
I see... You'd have me like a dog, would you? [ He prompts, but he definitely doesn't sound put out about it. In fact, he sounds pretty all about that idea. ] Bent over so you can wind your hand into my hair and have your way with me?