[He takes the joke easy, without blushing or stuttering, even as she shifts her shoulder blades under the line of his hand. Gives her a look, sure, but it doesn't manage to stick around once she's got her hand on his dick, even through the pants. And he's pushing forward into her, all eager, and she likes that in a man, that point when someone who's so composed slips up. Makes a horrible mistake. All weakness.]
I imagine so- [She'd never been much for laces. Words accompanied by only the smallest motion of her palm against him, stroking to generous a word. Shifting, maybe. Small adjustment as she fits her fingers around him to feel out exactly what he was thinking with. Vicious and underhanded but he manages to get the clasps undone anyhow, loosens across the width of her chest like some great relief. She bites her lip again, sets her chin along the line of his shoulder, eyelids lazy and low as she focused on the rough palms sliding over where her skin is comparably soft. Protected from the life she'd lived, for the most part. Right up until he gets them up, over, thumbs sliding over her in a way that is shocking. Makes a small noise, presses up into him even as he pushes her back with the same hands to kiss her, not nearly as gentle or thoughtful.
For a second she almost forgets everything. Almost. It comes back to her with a breath and the hot flush of her own skin and she presses and rocks her hand up against him again, just to see what he'll do.
Apparently, what he'd do for her hand on his dick and his hands on her tits is get impatient. Drops away from her chest in a way that aches but it's only to shift to her ass. Lower. Hikes her up his body with one sharp motion and it's the option of either going along with it or getting dropped, so she brings her knees up around him, and maybe it's faster than she was thinking he'd be but she wouldn't have had her hand on his cock in a place so private you could hide a body if she wasn't prepared for fast.
She takes her hand off him then to reach around behind his back, nails through the fabric of his shirt, half a laugh in the back of her throat as he turns her away from the wall. Then it's just turning her face to his, even more imperfect this close, skin all weather worn and creases deeper and eyelashes very dark. The easiest thing in the world to press her nose to the flat of his cheek, shift to press her lips against his jaw, day old stubble. Clings very tight when he drops onto his knees because she doesn't trust most anyone and it's safer, even if it does draw her a lot closer to where he's hot and obvious. Tucks her face into his neck when he lowers her onto the floor- cold through his coat, but not nearly as much as it could be.]
You move quick. [More easy amusement, nothing like disapproval as she untangles herself from him props herself up on the palm of one hand, not quite ready to lay down for him, yet. The front of her bra ghosting strange through her shirt as undone as it is. Hair a mess. Which was fine, except for certain things. Reaches up to pull the bandanna free, then, with it still tucked in the palm of her hand, uses her first two fingers to undo a couple of strange silvery hair-clips, snapping them back around the bandanna so the won't be lost. Habit or affection, hard to tell. Doesn't even look at him, how he's holding up, through the process. Until she can carefully toss it aside to her abandoned bag.
Then she looks at him again. That short break to gather herself or let him gather himself. Figure out what he wanted to do, even though she figures he probably already knows.]
no subject
I imagine so- [She'd never been much for laces. Words accompanied by only the smallest motion of her palm against him, stroking to generous a word. Shifting, maybe. Small adjustment as she fits her fingers around him to feel out exactly what he was thinking with. Vicious and underhanded but he manages to get the clasps undone anyhow, loosens across the width of her chest like some great relief. She bites her lip again, sets her chin along the line of his shoulder, eyelids lazy and low as she focused on the rough palms sliding over where her skin is comparably soft. Protected from the life she'd lived, for the most part. Right up until he gets them up, over, thumbs sliding over her in a way that is shocking. Makes a small noise, presses up into him even as he pushes her back with the same hands to kiss her, not nearly as gentle or thoughtful.
For a second she almost forgets everything. Almost. It comes back to her with a breath and the hot flush of her own skin and she presses and rocks her hand up against him again, just to see what he'll do.
Apparently, what he'd do for her hand on his dick and his hands on her tits is get impatient. Drops away from her chest in a way that aches but it's only to shift to her ass. Lower. Hikes her up his body with one sharp motion and it's the option of either going along with it or getting dropped, so she brings her knees up around him, and maybe it's faster than she was thinking he'd be but she wouldn't have had her hand on his cock in a place so private you could hide a body if she wasn't prepared for fast.
She takes her hand off him then to reach around behind his back, nails through the fabric of his shirt, half a laugh in the back of her throat as he turns her away from the wall. Then it's just turning her face to his, even more imperfect this close, skin all weather worn and creases deeper and eyelashes very dark. The easiest thing in the world to press her nose to the flat of his cheek, shift to press her lips against his jaw, day old stubble. Clings very tight when he drops onto his knees because she doesn't trust most anyone and it's safer, even if it does draw her a lot closer to where he's hot and obvious. Tucks her face into his neck when he lowers her onto the floor- cold through his coat, but not nearly as much as it could be.]
You move quick. [More easy amusement, nothing like disapproval as she untangles herself from him props herself up on the palm of one hand, not quite ready to lay down for him, yet. The front of her bra ghosting strange through her shirt as undone as it is. Hair a mess. Which was fine, except for certain things. Reaches up to pull the bandanna free, then, with it still tucked in the palm of her hand, uses her first two fingers to undo a couple of strange silvery hair-clips, snapping them back around the bandanna so the won't be lost. Habit or affection, hard to tell. Doesn't even look at him, how he's holding up, through the process. Until she can carefully toss it aside to her abandoned bag.
Then she looks at him again. That short break to gather herself or let him gather himself. Figure out what he wanted to do, even though she figures he probably already knows.]