It is a skill that can be learned in time, I promise. Even I had not done this before I was brought to the city, and I have had to humbly learn the skill as you are. Though I am convinced you will master it in no time, with how smart and charming you are, pretty nymph.
[Dream patiently waits for Daphne to send back a picture, if she chooses so, and he takes the time it takes for her to figure out her device to move to his bedroom. It's late enough that he too has winded down, only wearing his pants and shirt, and he makes himself comfortable in his bed, piling pillows between his back and the headboard of his bed. Even if this conversation doesn't turn into a dirty one, Morpheus is intrigued enough by Daphne that she is getting all of his attention for the night.
When she sends her first picture, the whole composition of it indicates that she hasn't meant to take it, let alone send it, but it does make Dream smile lightly. There's such a romantic quality to it that it makes him itch to draw or paint Daphne.
He's musing on his idea of a painting when the second picture comes in and all polite thoughts he's having are instantly thrown out of a proverbial window in his mind. The sight of her cunt wet like this makes him crave the taste of it on his tongue, and if the anticipation of their texting has brought some arousal to his groin, and his pants are now certainly too tight for comfort. It pains him to think that he will have to delete the picture later, as he doesn't trust his own device not to leak it on the network one day. But for now, he takes a long moment to look at the picture, cherishing the sight of it.]
Yes, like this. Gods, Daphne, you may be breathtaking every day, but I must admit that this picture of you is simply mouthwatering. How I would love to have a taste of you, right now.
[ daphne's teeth work over both of her lips, pondering precisely how dream might reply. she is not certain that she's sent a picture as properly as one might, in this circumstance, the concept novel to her.
but her heart rate picks up when she reads those first words back, the confirmation ringing like praise in her ears. her legs go tighter together, need prickling between them, awareness of just how wet she is suddenly rushing through her. ]
I wish that you could taste me, too. I'd like to feel your mouth on me. I'm glad you approve of the picture.
[ then after a few seconds, heart thumping, hand drifting down over the cloth covering her stomach, she types out another text. rushed, before she can tell herself that, maybe, it's improper to continue being so forward. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[Dream patiently waits for Daphne to send back a picture, if she chooses so, and he takes the time it takes for her to figure out her device to move to his bedroom. It's late enough that he too has winded down, only wearing his pants and shirt, and he makes himself comfortable in his bed, piling pillows between his back and the headboard of his bed. Even if this conversation doesn't turn into a dirty one, Morpheus is intrigued enough by Daphne that she is getting all of his attention for the night.
When she sends her first picture, the whole composition of it indicates that she hasn't meant to take it, let alone send it, but it does make Dream smile lightly. There's such a romantic quality to it that it makes him itch to draw or paint Daphne.
He's musing on his idea of a painting when the second picture comes in and all polite thoughts he's having are instantly thrown out of a proverbial window in his mind. The sight of her cunt wet like this makes him crave the taste of it on his tongue, and if the anticipation of their texting has brought some arousal to his groin, and his pants are now certainly too tight for comfort. It pains him to think that he will have to delete the picture later, as he doesn't trust his own device not to leak it on the network one day. But for now, he takes a long moment to look at the picture, cherishing the sight of it.]
Yes, like this. Gods, Daphne, you may be breathtaking every day, but I must admit that this picture of you is simply mouthwatering. How I would love to have a taste of you, right now.
no subject
but her heart rate picks up when she reads those first words back, the confirmation ringing like praise in her ears. her legs go tighter together, need prickling between them, awareness of just how wet she is suddenly rushing through her. ]
I wish that you could taste me, too. I'd like to feel your mouth on me.
I'm glad you approve of the picture.
[ then after a few seconds, heart thumping, hand drifting down over the cloth covering her stomach, she types out another text. rushed, before she can tell herself that, maybe, it's improper to continue being so forward. ]
Would you send me a picture as well?