Thinking your legs spread wide, Simon folded down onto his knees in between those plush thighs of yours, massive frame bowed forward, arms wrapped tight around your waist, big hands splayed across the soft give of your belly and lower back.
Im thinking of his facd pressed right to the warm, inner curve of your thigh, cheek squished into the fat, pillowy flesh, feel every slow, dazed breath he takes, ghosting over sensitive skin, ruffling the fine hairs there.
Im thinking of his pretty brown eyes- usually so sharp they could cut glass- look up at you with the dumbest, sweetest, most fucked out expression youâve ever seen. Lashes heavy, pupils blown wide and glassy. Mouth slack, lips parted, thin string of drool slipping from the corner and smearing shiny across your thigh but he doesnât notice. Too deep. Too far gone.
Thinking about every time your fingers card slow and gentle through his short, sweat damp hair, his eyes flutter and he makes this low, broken little sound in the back of his throat- half whine, half sigh.
Simonâs arms tightening around your waist, pulling your soft body closer, face nuzzling deeper into the plush meat of your thigh. You feeling the rasp of his stubble, the wet heat of his open mouth, the way his nose drags slow and mindless. Shoulders loose, spine curved in total surrender.
Ghost kneeling between your spread legs, face buried against your fat thigh, looking up at you like you hung the fucking moon and heâd die if you stopped petting him, too puppy dumb to think about anything but the way your thigh feels under his cheek.