Balthier would laugh if he wasn't struggling to move toward her and not crumple at the insistent touch of the phantom hands. He's never had more than one partner at once, but he feels confident he has an idea what it would feel like, a hand up his ass, two more on his nipples, at least two more at his cock and balls while something else scratches and kisses against him. Aerith has to be just as overwhelmed, and the thought makes him flushed and also a feeling he can't quite put his finger on.
"Let us be a moment," he echoes when she tells them to give her a second, voice stern and commanding. His captain's voice, not one he uses here much.
Their requests are met with Aerith crashing into him and no relent on the the hands' touch. Instinctively, protectively, he wraps around her. That's not how it actually happens, however, because the hands are shoving them together in a way they don't quite fit.
"Easy," he says. "If I promise we'll fuck, will you let us get situated?"
The pressure lets up -- not a lot -- but enough he can shift her a little. "Here, stand on your toes for me--hngh--" The hands at their asses have not, let up at all. When he opens his mouth again, he chokes, suddenly feeling very much like he's got a dick shoved down it.
Aerith's up, though, and a hand -- not hers, not his -- guides him onto her. The way she crashes against him, he's pretty sure a spirit pushed her. His hand slides down her thigh, encouraging it up, and he flushes as he thinks again of that day in the field.
There's something odd as he pulls her other legs up, besides the way the spirits push their asses toward each other, making him moan as pressure continues to twist in his ass. Aerith feels...lighter. They're holding her up.
Tentatively he moves his hands to her side, keeping a grip on her in case they drop her, but absolutely heady with getting to hold her to him like this with her high enough to thrust easily. Not that the spirits are giving him much choice on speed.
Still. He presses his cheek to hers, murmuring near her ear, "Come for me, my nymph. Loudly."
Not that he's far behind, crying out as she takes him tip to hilt, phantom hands teasing all over his body. Yet another experience he's never had before.
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"Let us be a moment," he echoes when she tells them to give her a second, voice stern and commanding. His captain's voice, not one he uses here much.
Their requests are met with Aerith crashing into him and no relent on the the hands' touch. Instinctively, protectively, he wraps around her. That's not how it actually happens, however, because the hands are shoving them together in a way they don't quite fit.
"Easy," he says. "If I promise we'll fuck, will you let us get situated?"
The pressure lets up -- not a lot -- but enough he can shift her a little. "Here, stand on your toes for me--hngh--" The hands at their asses have not, let up at all. When he opens his mouth again, he chokes, suddenly feeling very much like he's got a dick shoved down it.
Aerith's up, though, and a hand -- not hers, not his -- guides him onto her. The way she crashes against him, he's pretty sure a spirit pushed her. His hand slides down her thigh, encouraging it up, and he flushes as he thinks again of that day in the field.
There's something odd as he pulls her other legs up, besides the way the spirits push their asses toward each other, making him moan as pressure continues to twist in his ass. Aerith feels...lighter. They're holding her up.
Tentatively he moves his hands to her side, keeping a grip on her in case they drop her, but absolutely heady with getting to hold her to him like this with her high enough to thrust easily. Not that the spirits are giving him much choice on speed.
Still. He presses his cheek to hers, murmuring near her ear, "Come for me, my nymph. Loudly."
Not that he's far behind, crying out as she takes him tip to hilt, phantom hands teasing all over his body. Yet another experience he's never had before.