The play silenced the crowd and truncated an impending sockdolager, setting the stage for a Rochester resurgence. His mouth moved from her own to the soft skin of her throat, placing hot, needy kisses on the skin that smelled like the ocean and cinnamon, all mixed in together. She started much as he had, with soft, open-mouth kisses that trailed from his throat to his chest, and lower still. Hands were tangling in fabric, teeth were grazing against the skin of necks and throats before Aang knocked over a dish, bringing them both back to their immediate surroundings. A hand rubbed thoughtfully along his chin, feeling the soft bristles of the problematic beard, and the Avatar, Master of the Elements at only 12 years old, took a stab in the dark. Aang, bemused, held his arms open wider, as if the problem was that she couldn't fit.
For just a moment, the two of them sat, entwined like snakes, reveling in the end of their long separation. But you should have seen Gyatso's mustache! Do you like the beard, sweetie? He gave the door to their bedroom a gentle nudge with his knee and strode inside, forgoing the need to turn a light on, and instead setting Katara, gently, on the bed, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that sent sparks up and down her spine. Just politics and boring parties. I thought the monks were clean-shaven! Katara whimpered, her hands tugging a little harder on the shoulder-knot that kept Aang's coverings in place, pulling it away after a moment with a soft sound of triumph. Her tongue ran along the seam of his penis; she sucked, lightly at first, then a little harder, before giving pause, and she hummed, every now and then, so that he never grew too comfortable with her ministrations. Her fingers were tracing nonsensical patterns on his chest, and Aang closed his eyes, head lolling back slightly, the better to control his breathing as Katara explored the skin she so loved to touch. She started much as he had, with soft, open-mouth kisses that trailed from his throat to his chest, and lower still. Katara had rolled her eyes at Aang's announcement, knowing that he was probably going to get tired of his plan within the week and returned to smooth-face, but, for once, she had underestimated her husband. He rolled his hips, desperate for friction, but Katara held him steady with one hand, taking her time, reacquainting herself with all the old, secret places of Aang's body, places that no one but herself had explored. Finally, she turned, spotted him, and some of the tightness around her eyes seemed to soften. Then he had wanted to adopt an armadillo bear, and had pestered Katara for nearly a week before she finally threatened him with eternal chastity. TingedAutumn Aang seeks to prove to Katara that his new facial hair is a good thing. The soft hair of his beard scratched gently against the tender skin of her legs, and Katara shuddered as Aang's mouth climbed higher and higher, nuzzling softly in the apex between her legs before, finally, reaching out and tasting her. When they broke apart, it was Katara who was flushed pink, and Katara who was breathing heavily as she strove to control her desire. Zuko doesn't seem to care about the gender. For a little while, there was silence. Their eyes met, the grey and the blue, and Aang leaned forwards, his lips brushing against hers. And now, at twenty years of age, Aang wanted to grow a beard. When perambulations had ceased, the Rochesters found themselves on the upward side of a twelve to five final accounting. Nice to see you, sweetie. Such was the scene on a day seemingly ordered up by Abner Doubleday himself, as the Rochester Grangers opened their season on the grounds of the Lumber City Club of Flint. There was the time he had wanted to get a Jade Dragon tattooed on his chest, but once he had sobered down a bit alcohol being the main reason the idea seemed like a good one at the time , he remembered that tattoos hurt like the dickens. With aces scarce as the clouds above, it was defensive maneuvers that predominated in the nightcap. Her back arched as he tugged on one gently with his teeth, his free hand buried in the space between her legs, undoing the wrappings there, trailing his hand up her thigh and across her ribs.
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