What'd I tell you about trying to make sense of this place?
[He shrugs. Maybe they're lying and maybe they're not, and maybe the world is more bizarre than anything he could have ever imagined.]
But if you want a change of pace, think I can help you out there.
[He looks down at her. His own brand is cut off, hidden beneath a rolled-up sleeve: I let twenty-four ki-- it reads, and she'll likely see the rest before they're through.]
I gave up making sense, but that sort of mind-bending shit comes up in conversation, and then what am I supposed to do? We don't have a lot of magic and demons and hundred-year-old-weapons-turned-twink in Ontario.
[Let her huff, is what she's saying.
She grins at the proposition, though she keeps her gaze on the party. It's about damned time.]
I could do with a shake-up. What'd you have in mind?
[He lifts off the wall and nods his head, indicating she ought to follow. Nobody's in the changing station now, which makes the space kind of roomy. A few shower stalls and lockers coupled with sterile tile makes it pretty much like every single locker room in existence, so at least not everything about this place is bizarre.]
I still owe you one.
[He says it conversationally, turning to face her.]
Or maybe two, if you wanna be petty about it. How bout I settle that debt here and now?
[He smooths his hands over her shoulders, down her body, tracing out the shape of her body until he reaches her hips. Then it's a gentle push, stepping forward, til he's backed her against the wall.]
You really think I'll disappoint, sweetheart?
[His fingers tangle in the strings of her bikini, tugging them free of her hip, the action slow and methodical as he stares down at her.]
[She grins and gives him the big eyes, as Wayne would call it. She lifts off the wall to let her bikiniswimmy undies fall to the floor, which coincidentally lets her roll her body against his.]
I've been disappointed too many times to put the cart before the horse.
[Her fingers slide under his shirt to splay over his stomach.]
But you wouldn't be here if I didn't have faith in you.
bold of you to think i didn't want this exact outcome
[Her fingers are a delightful tease against his stomach, but he's got a debt to settle first. Kneeling on the chilly tile, he runs rough hands up her thighs, over the swell of her hips . . . she's undressed, but he likes taking his time with her. She's clearly only dated those around her age range, and that's well and good, but rushing just so he can stick his dick in her isn't cute when you're past, say, 19.]
Over my shoulder.
[It's a soft command, and he gives her only a moment to brace before he's prying her legs apart, pulling one over his shoulder so he can rub two fingers up against her cunt.]
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no subject
[He shrugs. Maybe they're lying and maybe they're not, and maybe the world is more bizarre than anything he could have ever imagined.]
But if you want a change of pace, think I can help you out there.
[He looks down at her. His own brand is cut off, hidden beneath a rolled-up sleeve: I let twenty-four ki-- it reads, and she'll likely see the rest before they're through.]
no subject
[Let her huff, is what she's saying.
She grins at the proposition, though she keeps her gaze on the party. It's about damned time.]
I could do with a shake-up. What'd you have in mind?
no subject
[He lifts off the wall and nods his head, indicating she ought to follow. Nobody's in the changing station now, which makes the space kind of roomy. A few shower stalls and lockers coupled with sterile tile makes it pretty much like every single locker room in existence, so at least not everything about this place is bizarre.]
I still owe you one.
[He says it conversationally, turning to face her.]
Or maybe two, if you wanna be petty about it. How bout I settle that debt here and now?
no subject
Atta boy. I'll take petty.
[And what a choice in venue. This place reminds her of the locker room back in Letterkenny.]
Assuming you can deliver, that is.
[She closes the distance between them in a few slow steps, her hand landing on his hip to tug at his shirt.]
no subject
[He smooths his hands over her shoulders, down her body, tracing out the shape of her body until he reaches her hips. Then it's a gentle push, stepping forward, til he's backed her against the wall.]
You really think I'll disappoint, sweetheart?
[His fingers tangle in the strings of her bikini, tugging them free of her hip, the action slow and methodical as he stares down at her.]
you brought this upon yourself
bikiniswimmy undies fall to the floor, which coincidentally lets her roll her body against his.]I've been disappointed too many times to put the cart before the horse.
[Her fingers slide under his shirt to splay over his stomach.]
But you wouldn't be here if I didn't have faith in you.
bold of you to think i didn't want this exact outcome
[Her fingers are a delightful tease against his stomach, but he's got a debt to settle first. Kneeling on the chilly tile, he runs rough hands up her thighs, over the swell of her hips . . . she's undressed, but he likes taking his time with her. She's clearly only dated those around her age range, and that's well and good, but rushing just so he can stick his dick in her isn't cute when you're past, say, 19.]
Over my shoulder.
[It's a soft command, and he gives her only a moment to brace before he's prying her legs apart, pulling one over his shoulder so he can rub two fingers up against her cunt.]