[ Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. This is fucking terrifying. He can feel adrenaline coursing through him, bringing with it the rather idiosyncratic effects that adrenaline has on him - slow steady heartbeats, crystal-clear focus, steady hands. As her grip tightens around his throat, his pupils dilate, and the world is limited suddenly to her face: her face looming large in his vision, the hairs of her eyebrows, the lines in her lips, every microtwitch of every muscle in her face, the point of her chin and flicker of her eyes. He sees her then clearly. And it's -
God, it's erotic beyond compare. Beyond all comprehension. Her hands are so strong and firm on his throat, and her gaze on him so encompassing. He starts to struggle to breathe as her hands tighten on him, and he hears his own breath growing harsher, strained, little labored gasps coming, and his head swims, and he is painfully aroused by the whole thing. He's sure she can tell, sitting atop him. He cannot be embarrassed by that, though - he's too entranced by this whole experience, the marvelous sharpness and adrenaline rush and the sex of it all.
His eyelashes flutter slightly over his eyes, but they don't close. He doesn't blink. He just keeps his eyes trained on hers, not breaking eye contact, his pupils dilated with arousal and desire and excitement. His lips tremble just a little, too. His free hand clenches hard in the scraggly greenery beside them, yanking the dead grass up by the roots with more and more frantic ferocity as her hands tighten further. His back arches just a little. A tiny groan looses itself from his constricted throat. ]
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God, it's erotic beyond compare. Beyond all comprehension. Her hands are so strong and firm on his throat, and her gaze on him so encompassing. He starts to struggle to breathe as her hands tighten on him, and he hears his own breath growing harsher, strained, little labored gasps coming, and his head swims, and he is painfully aroused by the whole thing. He's sure she can tell, sitting atop him. He cannot be embarrassed by that, though - he's too entranced by this whole experience, the marvelous sharpness and adrenaline rush and the sex of it all.
His eyelashes flutter slightly over his eyes, but they don't close. He doesn't blink. He just keeps his eyes trained on hers, not breaking eye contact, his pupils dilated with arousal and desire and excitement. His lips tremble just a little, too. His free hand clenches hard in the scraggly greenery beside them, yanking the dead grass up by the roots with more and more frantic ferocity as her hands tighten further. His back arches just a little. A tiny groan looses itself from his constricted throat. ]