[Clara can't catch the small noise of encouragement that escapes her throat, with the wall at her back and his body pressed against hers, deft fingers beneath tight elastic. God, she feels like a bloody teenager, shagging in her dormitory after her first college party, but that's not about to stop her. She tugs his lip in between hers, a little hard, and tightens her legs' vice grip on his waist, hitching herself as close as she can get.
Yep, this could certainly make her forget about a lot of things. The pragmatist in her briefly wonders if she'll have a bruised back in the morning, but she decides to forget that as well. Forget, forget, forget. One distracted hand skates back down his body, just to his back, to bunch up his shirt. Off, please. She wants to get closer to that warmth.]
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Yep, this could certainly make her forget about a lot of things. The pragmatist in her briefly wonders if she'll have a bruised back in the morning, but she decides to forget that as well. Forget, forget, forget. One distracted hand skates back down his body, just to his back, to bunch up his shirt. Off, please. She wants to get closer to that warmth.]