[ It's probably painfully cliche, but the juxtaposition of Loki's entirely nude form twined around him while he's completely dressed sans his flies being open does far more for him than Chris feels is appropriate; it's far too easy to imagine himself sitting in the chair, the wide-open viewscreen in front of him displaying the stars racing by or a new planet as yet to be explored or a cotton-candy nebula just brimming with scientific knowledge, all ignored in favor of the pale flesh pressed all along his front, Loki's knees pinched in close to his hips, her arms looped around his neck and her breasts crushed against his chest.
It'll never happen, obviously, the logistics of it absolutely impossible to coordinate, but the thought...
He plants his feet and rocks his hips up to meet her as she moves in his lap, her breath washing down his neck as she cries out her pleasure with every thrust. ]
Wha — [ He has to scramble to gather his wits, blinking stupidly up at her for a moment with his mouth hanging open as he moans, his fingers digging into the meat of her ass to help her grind herself against him every time her weight settles. ] Do you... want to be?
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It'll never happen, obviously, the logistics of it absolutely impossible to coordinate, but the thought...
He plants his feet and rocks his hips up to meet her as she moves in his lap, her breath washing down his neck as she cries out her pleasure with every thrust. ]
Wha — [ He has to scramble to gather his wits, blinking stupidly up at her for a moment with his mouth hanging open as he moans, his fingers digging into the meat of her ass to help her grind herself against him every time her weight settles. ] Do you... want to be?