Isaac cried out in surprise at the sudden rush of feeling and arousal slamming into him like a freight train, eyes comically wide as his knees buckled. Slumping against the wall, he gazed up at the approaching figure, pleading with his eyes as he let out a pitiful little whimper.
“Too many clothes,” she hissed, giving up on trying to suck a mark into the pale column of his throat. “Off, Isaac.” She didn’t wait for him to respond, undoing his jeans and shoving her hand inside, gripping and stroking and passionately delighted to find him already hard.
“P-please…” He spluttered out with increasing desperation, reaching down with the intention to fumble with the button on the jeans, but she got there first. Letting out a gurgled moan at the unexpected contact, he hardened further and rutted against her fingers, his hands flying out to cup at her breasts.
“Please what?” she said, curling her fingers around him. She shivered, the feeling of his hands on her skin intensifying /everything/. She pulled her hand back out and pushed him flat to the bed, prying at his jeans.