Raising an eyebrow at his reply, Natasha shook her head. “You wouldn’t last another hour,” she pointed out as she bent to zip off her boots. He had left her completely satisfied just a few minutes ago, but he had yet to get any satisfaction, and considering how hasty he was moving now she had the feeling it wouldn’t take much to tip him over the edge.
Folding her arms across her stomach to ward off the chill, she followed Clint to the bathroom, waiting in the doorway as he started the water running and watching appreciatively as he stripped off his wet shirt. She had seen more muscular men in her life, but she still swore that Clint had the most perfect body she had ever seen. Too muscular wasn’t nearly as attractive, and she loved that he had a bit of softness to him while still being incredibly fit. Then, of course, there were his arms that just constantly begged to be touched.
Unabashedly admiring his upper body, Natasha’s eyes shot up to his face at the noise before trailing down to her own chest. It was very obvious that she was cold, that was for sure, and the soaked shirt only emphasized that point. Or points, as the case may be. Looking back up at him she grinned teasingly and approached him, moving slowly like a cat stalking its prey. She didn’t stop until she was directly in front of him.
“My hands are still pretty shaky,” she said, injecting a pitiful note into her voice. Placing her cold fingers on his abs she slowly slid her hands up over his chest, his shoulders, before continuing upward until she held them over her head. “Maybe you should help me take it off.”
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Date: 2013-08-28 08:48 pm (UTC)From:Folding her arms across her stomach to ward off the chill, she followed Clint to the bathroom, waiting in the doorway as he started the water running and watching appreciatively as he stripped off his wet shirt. She had seen more muscular men in her life, but she still swore that Clint had the most perfect body she had ever seen. Too muscular wasn’t nearly as attractive, and she loved that he had a bit of softness to him while still being incredibly fit. Then, of course, there were his arms that just constantly begged to be touched.
Unabashedly admiring his upper body, Natasha’s eyes shot up to his face at the noise before trailing down to her own chest. It was very obvious that she was cold, that was for sure, and the soaked shirt only emphasized that point. Or points, as the case may be. Looking back up at him she grinned teasingly and approached him, moving slowly like a cat stalking its prey. She didn’t stop until she was directly in front of him.
“My hands are still pretty shaky,” she said, injecting a pitiful note into her voice. Placing her cold fingers on his abs she slowly slid her hands up over his chest, his shoulders, before continuing upward until she held them over her head. “Maybe you should help me take it off.”