LOGAN HOWLETT day 11 (21, oct) — breast worship
18+ fem!reader, 418 words. mdni!!
You stand between Logan’s thighs, his seated position at the edge of the sofa making him far shorter than his usual height. You have your hands in his hair, running through the short lengths as he presses the side of his face into your sternum. Ear to your nightdress, listening to the steady, soothing beating of your heart.
His arms are wrapped comfortably around your thighs, hands cupping your ass — his hold like he was trying to keep you from leaving. His grasp on your ass runs up the small of your back, palms sliding up the smooth, shiny fabric of your dress until they’re either side of your tits. Thumbs brushing over your nipples through the material.
He pulls his head back slightly to look up at you, gaze flickering over your face in that attentive way he often does. And as he keeps his eyes locked on yours, he’s snaking his fingers into the straps of your dress, the slight force of his grip pulling it from your shoulders.
Never once breaking contact from your eyes, he tugs the thin straps down your arms, letting the fabric that covers your chest fall with them. The soft, satin-like material bunches and pools around a slight dip of you, your tits now bare in front of his face.
“Been thinkin’ ‘bout these all day,” he says, voice low and quiet.
He parts from your eyes to look over your breasts momentarily, his hands now moving to support them, holding under each. His thumbs glide over your nipples, repeating that same prior motion, only now it’s under the fabric. Just slow, little swirls as he flickers back up to your face — watching your eyes flutter closed and lips part, head tipping back shortly after.
Your fingers in his hair tighten, your grasp ever so slight when you feel his breath against your skin, his face getting closer to you. You straighten your neck from its fallen position to look down at him, meeting his keen eyes already focused on you so eagerly.
He adjusts his hold under one of your tits as he brings his mouth to it, lips skimming your nipple as he peppers faint, light kisses around it — working you up more and more.
And only when enough teasing has sufficed, he’s pressing his lips to your skin, littering you with worship-like kisses and suckles. One hand pawing at your lonely tit, the other clasped around your waist for your support — your knees beginning their slight buckle.
