Jerk, ( Peter laughs, (laughs! he's proving Nancy's point), before her nails knick at that pressure point in his neck. the spot his senses like to sizzle, good or bad or anything inbetween. it does something to him when she touches him there. somehow it's like the calming lull of a kitten getting scruffed and all of his senses and nerves firing off wildly at once. it's weird how it can be both. maybe the point is it is good, even if it makes him shiver at the sensation, stalled out mid thrust as his body is over stimulated in the best sort of ways. needs a moment to recover, because suddenly he's lost in skin and sweat and the way she looks with heavy lowered lids and the heady demand, fuck me harder, ricocheting around in his ears.
slow is nice. he likes slow, sometimes. like when they were watching some movie and they forgot the watching part, because her hand ended up in his pants and then she's riding him, fingers tight in his hair as she grinds. or when he's still sore from getting thrown through a brick wall a couple days prior and even though he looks better, more or less, slow is still all he can manage but he still wants her. needs her, maybe. slow is good when it is less about clawing, needy, demanding desire. slow isn't an I need it sort of thing.
and the instinctual way her body arcs and rocks to meet him, the way her arms and hands keep tightening on any part of him she can reach, how her skin is so hot — it's not just Nancy, either. the way his cock feels heavy and aching, and they've barely started, is a sign too. this isn't a take it slow sort of situation. and even if Peter does like being a punk about as much as Nancy likes being a brat, there's only so long he can keep it up when he wants more than low and slow, too.
it took some... time. to try fast, to try hard. being strong enough to lift a city bus, it does make the idea of losing control a little intimidating. terrifying, even. a lot more so, when he's felt the consequences of what his super strength could really do to someone. it took awhile, to try again. in all sorts of ways. and when they finally were there, it made Nancy a complete monster. she doesn't realize exactly how much practice she's given him, in finding the right balance of getting lost in the sensation and finding an anchor in the way Nancy responds to him and fucks back against him. bucking and demanding. it always takes him a moment, to find his bearings. but Nancy will know she got her way when he spreads her thighs open to sit up and grip her there.
the first thrust is the last he can manage slow and excruciating. because he needs more, just like she needs more. that satisfying smack of their bodies coming together, the feeling of her in his bones. ) Like that? ( he pants, and god, if he had all of his brain cells working right now, he'd feel like such a cheesy cliche. what a dumb thing to say, and he already said it once! but he can't think of anything else and slowing down to figure it out would require slowing down, and now that he's started to pump into her, harder and faster; he's not stopping until both of them can't take any more. )
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slow is nice. he likes slow, sometimes. like when they were watching some movie and they forgot the watching part, because her hand ended up in his pants and then she's riding him, fingers tight in his hair as she grinds. or when he's still sore from getting thrown through a brick wall a couple days prior and even though he looks better, more or less, slow is still all he can manage but he still wants her. needs her, maybe. slow is good when it is less about clawing, needy, demanding desire. slow isn't an I need it sort of thing.
and the instinctual way her body arcs and rocks to meet him, the way her arms and hands keep tightening on any part of him she can reach, how her skin is so hot — it's not just Nancy, either. the way his cock feels heavy and aching, and they've barely started, is a sign too. this isn't a take it slow sort of situation. and even if Peter does like being a punk about as much as Nancy likes being a brat, there's only so long he can keep it up when he wants more than low and slow, too.
it took some... time. to try fast, to try hard. being strong enough to lift a city bus, it does make the idea of losing control a little intimidating. terrifying, even. a lot more so, when he's felt the consequences of what his super strength could really do to someone. it took awhile, to try again. in all sorts of ways. and when they finally were there, it made Nancy a complete monster. she doesn't realize exactly how much practice she's given him, in finding the right balance of getting lost in the sensation and finding an anchor in the way Nancy responds to him and fucks back against him. bucking and demanding. it always takes him a moment, to find his bearings. but Nancy will know she got her way when he spreads her thighs open to sit up and grip her there.
the first thrust is the last he can manage slow and excruciating. because he needs more, just like she needs more. that satisfying smack of their bodies coming together, the feeling of her in his bones. ) Like that? ( he pants, and god, if he had all of his brain cells working right now, he'd feel like such a cheesy cliche. what a dumb thing to say, and he already said it once! but he can't think of anything else and slowing down to figure it out would require slowing down, and now that he's started to pump into her, harder and faster; he's not stopping until both of them can't take any more. )