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Post by simonedelautre on Jul 27, 2011 15:24:18 GMT -5
 stop there and let me correct it ,[/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
Simone realized a few moments too late that the thud she'd just heard had been Henry tripping and falling. She'd felt him pull away from her touch, but geez, the guy sure was strange. What guy didn't want a sexy girl touching him? She rolled her eyes at him again, not really caring if he was hurt or not. She didn't offer him a hand to pull him up, nor did she apologize. It wasn't her fault he was a klutz. Sheesh.
But then he started spouting a string of obscenities and her nonchalant expression turned into a glare. Her cheeks reddened, not with embarrassment, but with anger. Excuse me?! You're the asshole who tripped over his own feet. God, get a life loser," she yelled back at him, before turning to face the bar. The last thing she needed was to get into a fight and get kicked out of the place. Then her night would be a total disaster and driving all the way there would have been a waste of time.
She peered at him out of the corner of her eye, feeling a twinge of regret. He had actually been starting to amuse her. Or at least give her something to do besides feel sorry for herself. She'd been without any decent conversation for so long it felt nice to faux-flirt with him, even if he was a total geek. Pity. She supposed she'd pissed him off enough now that he'd leave her alone. That was what she'd originally wanted anyway, right? She took another long swig of her drink and decided she'd just have to find another interesting sort in the club. There had to be more than one guy in the town who was capable of conversing, right?
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center]
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Post by prospice1 on Jul 27, 2011 17:02:14 GMT -5
It wasn't long before he realized exactly who he was talking to and just about kicked himself. Why did he always have to do this? She had to be at least a 7, maybe more (although clearly she was under the impression that she was hotter than Marilyn Monroe) - he couldn't honestly say that girls above a 5 usually talked to him. He had taken off his right glove and was sucking on his palm, the cold anger growing dim in his eye. Oh hot damn she was sexy when she was angry, he quickly realized, and looked up, replacing the glove and wondering how best he could sustain such emotion. Had he just said that she was a 7? Well when she was angry she jumped a couple points at least. That was well worth the waste of a a couple bucks and half a drink. A fiendish grin had come over his face as he righted the bar stool, no matter about the broken glass.
"Now, now, don't get your panties in a twist," he said, because saying things like that generally made the situation worse rather than better. Or vice-versa, from his perspective. He caught the barkeep's attention rudely and got himself another drink because he had quickly decided that she was worth the effort. Besides, he was still reeling from all of the... touching... Even if it was getting better and better as the night went on. "Oh and make the glass clean, would you?" he snapped at the barkeep, who glared at him silently. Henry was back to staring at Simone now, who still seemed quite huffy. Wow-ee, the way her cheeks got red when she was angry! It was positively hot, anyway a whole lot better than her strictly controlled little doll face from before. "You know, babycakes, you sure do look a whole lot more attractive when you're mad," he snarked, partially because he figured that she thought she couldn't get more attractive in the first place. All the same, if he hadn't been turned on before he certainly was now. |
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Post by simonedelautre on Jul 27, 2011 17:24:09 GMT -5
stop there and let me correct it , [/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
Simone remained lost in her thoughts for a few moments before she realized the guy was climbing back onto the bar stool beside her, and ordering another drink. Apparently she couldn't get lucky enough for him to give up so easily. His quick change of emotions were certainly annoying. One minute he was calling her a bitch, the next minute he was sitting by her again. What was up with this guy? She knew she was attractive, far beyond his league, and most guys like him would fall over her feet begging her to touch them.
"You're one to talk," she sneered back at him, giving him a cold glare. She'd been warming up to him just moments before, even touching him. She shuddered at the thought of touching him. Not because she had an aversion to touching, which he apparently had, but because she felt him rather disturbing. Though, his looks weren't quite as bad as she'd originally imagined. Being angry didn't help them any, but he was definitely up to a 2, maybe a 3. It was probably the alcohol blurring her vision, but whatever.
She didn't know whether to growl or laugh at his compliment. That was one line she'd never heard before. "Ha. Ha. Very funny," she spoke, even though her tone showed she was clearly unamused. She continued glaring at him, even though she realized he must like it, she couldn't disguise her distaste. "So you're back to talking to me, I take it. Very well, uh...creep. If you're going to make me endure your pesty chatter, I'm gonna need something stronger than this." She waved her glass in the air as she spoke, and then beckoned a female waitress over, asking her to bring them two of whatever their best shots were. She really must be fading fast. Ordering a drink for a guy, and a geeky one at that? Unheard of.
She proceeded to glare at him, even as the shots arrived a minute or two later. They came fast, though she was sure the large amount of money she'd paid earlier had something to do with it. She sat one down in front of him, without offering a word. Hers went down as easily as a shot could. Burning a little, but ah, that was the best part. Then she smiled at him, feeling a little too tipsy as her thoughts became blurred. Four drinks, and now a shot. Boy, she'd be completely hammered soon. She stared off into space for what was probably a couple minutes, before looking at him again. "Hey, hey." She poked him in the shoulder and peered blankly at him, clearly a bit incoherent. "Whassurname agin?" Her words becoming more than slightly slurred.
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center]
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Post by prospice1 on Jul 27, 2011 18:24:18 GMT -5
The wild swing from disgust to interest was not abnormal for Henry. He could get over his whole aversion to being touched fairly quickly if there was a hottie next to him and a drink in front of him. He was becoming tipsier and tipsier by the moment as he downed the new one he'd obtained. The speed of his drinking more than made up for the half a glass lost. Even her sneer was sexy as heck, he reflected, even this mild annoyance that was no where near as good as pure anger. He leaned in closer to her, slouching against the bar leaned on his injured hand. It wasn't even bleeding anymore, but it still hurt. Honestly, couldn't she have waited until he'd at least finished that drink?
"Hey hey now, that's prefectly good liquor wasted," his own speech was slurring now, his diction thrown off. He wasn't stammering, not yet, but clearly the alcohol was starting to go to his head. He felt... good. It was a little strange for him, this feeling of brassy confidence coursing through his veins. He had this one in the bad, he was absolutely sure about that. Although what he was going to do about it now that he had it in the bag, he wasn't quite sure. Let the alcohol decide, probably.
"Heeey Sugarcheeks, it wasn't a joke. Seriously, no one ever told you before that you don't look that great when you're not angry?" he winked garishly, ignoring her latest nickname from her. He got called a creep a lot. And a geek a lot. Honestly, this girl didn't have too many brains and only made up for that fact with her pretty face. He would appreciate a little originality every now and again, honestly. It got boring... "Ooooh now? That would be lovely," he said, his train of through broken by the mention of stronger stuff. He had his hands clasped and fingers knitted like an expectant schoolgirl.
He took the shot and downed it gladly. Ahhh that was nice, a tingling burn that was nothing at all like his scalp burning or his shoulder breaking. He leaned in further towards her, smelling of spirit and his pupils dilated. "Henenry," he managed, not even thinking to feel offended that she had forgotten. He had completely ignored her poke besides swaying a little. Honestly, he'd hardly noticed it. He wasn't noticing a whole lot about what was going on at this point, but he still remembered his original plan to wait until she was totally drunk. It seemed to be working. "Saaay baby, whadyousay we get outta this joint and I'll take you home. Unless you've gotta nother shot that is." As usual, his timing was off. |
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Post by simonedelautre on Jul 28, 2011 9:33:24 GMT -5
stop there and let me correct it , [/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
Simone was just in her right mind enough to raise an eyebrow at his suggestion. You wish buddy. She thought it, but she didn't say it. Normally, she would have. But she was feeling a little friendly with him and she also didn't want to egg him on. Which apparently insults seemed to do.
So she just smiled dumbly like she hadn't caught his invitation. Another shot? Yeah, she decided she'd like one too. "Ican arrrrange that." She continued smiling, her face apparently frozen in the pose or something. Simone waved someone down and ordered another of whatever they'd just had. Her nails drummed on the wood bar in front of her expectantly, waiting for the drink to arrive.
Then she brushed her blonde curls out of her face and leaned forward over Henry again. "You know Heneryyy, a real genteeelman would offer to take me home," she managed to spit out. It was slurred, but the words were there, and half comprehensible. Another of those stupid smiles broke across her face, just as a pair of shots were handed to them. She lifted hers to her ruby lips and drank it like a pro, slamming it down on the bar now that it was empty. And then she started laughing, thinking about his suggestion a few minutes before. To a bystander, it would appear she was laughing at nothing. Instead, it was something that had stuck in her mind. "Sohow farrr isur place anway?" she spoke, basically out of it, as she moved her hand toward his forearm, leaning a little too heavily onto him.
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center]
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Post by prospice1 on Jul 28, 2011 11:52:04 GMT -5
"Sweet bayby, you are some kindof angel," he slurred, at her acceptance of the idea of another shot. He was practically sprawled out over the bar now, his hand hanging over the side, his cheek slumped against his shoulder. He watched her from this sideways vantage, trying to concentrate on her features but having a lot of trouble with that. Anyone would have been hot through the alcohol haze, but the knowledge that she was, in fact, actually smokin' stayed with him. He didn't have any particular plan at this point other than to drink the second shot. He vaguely realized that she hadn't even answered his question, but he didn't really care for all that. When she leaned over her breath smelled about as good as his... which was very good, in his opinion.
"Didnni din't I already offer?" he sat up slightly, trying to figure out if he had or hadn't Or if he had but only in his head. Oh, a shot! He drank it. "Neveevermind. Say say whatdoyou say I take you homeee?" Honestly, at this point the bar probably wouldn't serve them. He laughed when she did, a reedy giggle. He considered her second question while she leaned on him, a vague sort of detached discomfort rising somewhere deep within him. Her weight on his shoulder was stifling, hot, but he made no move to back away or to brush her off. Her hair smelled sickly sweet, alcohol and wilted flowers. "I dunnonoono," he said thoughtfully, "too ffar to walk. I dun... I dun't drive I should think." Plus, he really didn't want her at his place. With his free hand he flailed, patting at his pocket to try and find his keys, which luckily weren't under Simone. He pulled them out and watched them flash with intense fascination. "Heeeeey," he remarked, "I hava key formy budddie's dorm thouggh. Heson vay... vaycation I thinnnk. Probababably more drinks there tooo." |
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Post by simonedelautre on Jul 28, 2011 12:56:11 GMT -5
stop there and let me correct it , [/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
Simone just smiled and giggled at Henry's drunken responses. She leaned even more into his space, enough that she could taste the alcohol on his breath. Or wait, was that her own? Who cared. The guy was definitely looking up on the scale of things. His previously rat-like features blurred into something that looked sorta handsome. Curly hair, pale eyes that were kind of attractive.
He fished for his keys and she stood up, feeling a little topply as she did. She steadied herself on his arm, and tried to keep her head straight so they could go...wherever it was they were going to go. She hiccuped, loudy, but acted like she hadn't noticed. She also didn't see several other faces in the room turn and look at her, a couple shaking their head at her blatant display of drunken misconduct. Then she looked back at Henry as he talked about where to go. "You ca-drive? We cu cala taxi." She smiled and laughed, a kind of throaty giggle.
She began to walk, tugging him as if she wanted him to follow. Her steps were like lead, and a little wobbly. She managed to make it to the door, which she sort of fell against in order to open it, and then breathed in the fresh outdoor air. It cleared her mind only slightly, and she found herself giggling again, running her hand up and down his arm while still balancing against him. For all she knew, the guy could be taking her somewhere to murder her. But she didn't think about that. In fact, she didn't think about much. Such as, any events that might follow. All she knew at the moment was that she wanted to get out of that bar and get somewhere...comfortable. "S-so Henerry. Youkno yur kina cute," she breathed out, as she reached up to run a hand along the outline of his face.
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center]
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Post by prospice1 on Jul 28, 2011 14:21:20 GMT -5
"Ohyeah a taxi," he slurred, as if it was a completely novel idea. He asked the bartender for the number of a service and drunkenly punched it into his phone. By some miracle he got it right and actually managed to get one. He let her drag him along after laying the rest of the money for his own drinks on the bar (not the shots, however), her fingernails digging into his wrist slightly, leaving little crescent moon shaped indentations. Their joint walk was staggering and jostling, and once he got outside he had to lean against the wall with her pressed against his shoulder in order to keep upright. He was insanely aware of her stroking his arm, a mixture of pleasure and deep-seated fear waking deep in his gut. He kept expecting a blow that never fell, in a way, but all the same he was thoroughly aroused and his hormones and the alcohol were doing their job well.
Her words and the stroke of his cheek and he acted almost instinctively, turning he head very slightly and kissing her rather sloppily, his hand reaching out around the small of her back. He didn't really think about the action or it's probable consequences, but broke off almost abruptly, slightly revolted but also triumphantly thinking that he'd just kissed a hot girl. Score one for Henry, none for the universe. He felt suddenly and undeniably queasy and his arm fell back from around her and he slumped against the brick wall, his face turned away from her and almost ashamed but not quite. Luckily, he didn't puke. He didn't say anything either, just wished the taxi would arrive. But this was Someplace, Somewhere, and honestly taxis probably didn't get called that often anyway. |
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Post by simonedelautre on Jul 28, 2011 14:50:02 GMT -5
stop there and let me correct it , [/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
When her caress led to him turning into her face and kissing her, she should have slapped him. But she didn't. For one thing, she wasn't really conscious enough to care that some perv had just kissed her. Rather badly, too. For another, she was so wasted she probably wouldn't have been able to lift her hand effectively enough to give him much of a slap.
Instead she watched his face turn squeamish and her immediate thought was, "Great, this guy is going to puke on my new shoes". Instead of offering him compassion, she glared at him. He may not have noticed though, because he slumped down and turned away from her. So she stood there, still sort of leaning against him, and sort of leaning against the wall. And maybe even sort of standing on her own two feet. The last one was questionable though.
The minutes clicked by as her head reeled and she found herself hoping the guy wouldn't suddenly turn around and spew all over her. He still looked kind of sick when the cab pulled up, but she managed to half drag him along with her towards the cab. Seeing that the 'couple' was probably incapable, the driver got out and opened the door before them, giving Simone a warning as he did so. "Make a mess in my car, and it's triple the fine lady." Simone just gave him the best cold glare she could muster before stuffing herself inside the backseat and pulling Henry in along with her.
She scooted over to the middle, and fastened her seat belt before slumping across Henry's shoulder. For once, she didn't really care if her perfect hair got all messed up. Simone closed her eyes and tried to ignore the motion sickness coming on from the car's motion. She thought she heard Henry mumble an address, but she really wasn't paying attention. She started stroking his leg, starting at his knee and moving up, but the driver must have seen something in his review. "Hey, hey, I'll have none of that funny business in my car. You'll be at your place soon enough." So she stopped, or at least, lessened her activity. She opened her eyes, and looked at Henry, realizing she had no clue where she was going. "We almos thereyet Henenenr-ry? She tried to draw out his name seductively, but it didn't exactly work.
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center]
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Post by prospice1 on Jul 28, 2011 15:12:01 GMT -5
Honestly, if he had been more sober, he would have expected her to slap him. As it were, she didn't, but she kept leaning there, her heavy hot weight against his shoulder, and he tried not to think about that too much. And also not to puke. He would really love not to puke on her. So he waited for the taxicab to show up in a daze and when it did he half-staggered behind her and immediately slumped on the seat. He didn't buckle his seat belt, mostly because she was on top of the buckle and even though it would be a wonderful excuse to touch her ass he didn't feel like going through all that trouble.
He honestly didn't mean to say his own address, but he did. Oh well. He quickly tried to think if he had any liquor whatsoever there. Half a bottle of vodka and some cranberry juice or something to cut it with maybe. And a very well hidden bottle of Jaeger that he figured he'd probably have to break out. He'd had it for a while and couldn't remember where he'd gotten it, but he really didn't like the stuff and thought it tasted like liquorice. So he'd saved it for when he was really desperate, which was right about now.
He broke out of it when her fingers started caressing his knee, looking down at them with interest as they moved higher and higher, only slightly up his thigh... He tensed, but he was excited too, a thousand nerves sparking, that mixture of pleasure and disgust. It was broken all too soon by the rude driver and he aimed his best drunken glare at the back of his head. He had to look out the window to gauge his location.
"Almoss there," he managed, swallowing, looking around at the dark apartment fronts and the gutters and the trash in the gutters. His apartment was clean as hell, but this part of the neighborhood wasn't and it honestly freaked him out to live here. Better than a dorm though. The taxi pulled up to the building and he paid the driver what little money he had left, silently thinking that he'd better score tonight because he'd paid for it well enough. "C'mon," he slid out of the seat, away from her grasp, making sure she stayed with him and led the way quickly through the lobby, avoiding the curious gaze of the attendant, who looked amused and slightly baffled. He'd never seen anyone come home with Henry, much less a woman and much less a pretty one.
Henry's apartment was on the second floor and while he waited for the elevator he leaned against the wall. It came quickly with a helpful beep, a curse word scribbled across it that had not quite faded despite multiple scrubbings, and Henry entered and stabbed at the button haphazardly, pulling Simone along this time with him so that she wouldn't have a lot of time to look around the lobby. His apartment was the first on the left, luckily, and he clumsily unlocked all five locks, swinging the door open and holding it as an afterthought. "Herewe are, make yourself comfomftfortable," he slurred, leaning on the doorframe. |
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Post by simonedelautre on Jul 28, 2011 15:42:40 GMT -5
stop there and let me correct it , [/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
Simone peered out around Henry's head to try to see whatever world lay outside the taxi. But it was dark, getting pretty late, or maybe even early. She wasn't sure what time it was anymore. Plus, she didn't feel like lifting her head enough to keep his dark hair from blocking her view. So she just sighed, hoping they'd arrive wherever they were going quickly. She still wasn't sure exactly where they were going. His friends place? His place? She didn't know, but she didn't bother asking.
Instead, when the cab pulled to a stop, she stumbled out behind Henry and kept her eyes on them as they moved towards an apartment building. Since it was dark, she didn't notice just how run-down the whole neighborhood was, but she did curl her nose in disgust as the walked past some trash laying in the lawn. They went through the door, which was barred (and should have been an indication of the quality of the place), past an attendant, and toward and elevator. Great, another moving object. She hadn't gauged how many stories the building was, but she sincerely hoped he wasn't on the top floor.
The elevator arrived and she stepped in, once again shifting her weight mostly against a wall, and grasping firmly to the rail that ran around at about waist height. For once, she wasn't grappling for Henry. As it lurched upward, she felt queasy, but it quickly subsided. Thankfully, she wasn't usually prone to making friends with the toilet after drinking. Then again, she never usually got quite so drunk and then followed up with putting herself inside objects in motion.
It arrived at his floor, quickly. Probably the second or third floor, but she hadn't counted and hadn't bothered to take the time to look at the numbers. She followed him along, for a moment asking herself why she was with a complete stranger, but then nudging that feeling aside. At that moment, she didn't care who she was with as long as it involved getting out of the dingy, dangerous looking hallway. The five locks on the door should have been her second clue, but she was really too out of it to count just how many locks Henry had fumbled to shove his keys in.
Then she walked into the place, which was an immediate relief. It wasn't the upper-class charm she was used to, but the place was clean and once she heard him shut the door and lock it, she felt much more safe than she had in the rest of the building. She glanced around, eyes being greeted with the contents of a guy's apartment. Though she couldn't really say much, since she didn't have an apartment or anything yet. Her own might end up just as bland as his appeared to her.
Simone saw a couch, and drug herself over to it clumsily, plopping down hard on the soft cushions. "Mmm," she moaned, "Juss wha I need-ed." The sick feelings she'd had seemed to have passed, so she remained sitting, though sort of slouched against the back of the couch. She watched him, moving in sort of a blur, and found herself wondering just what he was planning on doing now that he had her where he wanted her. She really hoped he wouldn't turn on the lights, because her eyes didn't feel like adjusting. Plus, then she'd be confronted with the obscene scenery - that is, the hell hole he lived in. In an effort to make sure he didn't, she patted the seat beside her. "Comere. Sit wih me." Never the one to wait for an invitation, she found herself kicking off her heels, which thumped against the floor, interrupting the otherwise mostly-silent apartment.
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center]
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Post by prospice1 on Jul 28, 2011 16:23:11 GMT -5
He stayed by the door, locking every single one of his locks and the chain at the top. Most of them he had installed. The one thing that could be said about his apartment was that it was scrupulously clean. There were no cobwebs, the white walls were actually white since they had been painted. The carpet, however, was stained. He had never been able to replace that. It was mostly for this reason that he didn't turn the lights on, peeling off his gloves and hanging them on a hook on the wall near the door. He glanced for a moment at the puckered scar on his hand where he'd been stabbed by a piece of glass, but it didn't hurt anymore. He cast a glance around to make sure everything was in order. The walls were unadorned, there were no plants. The small squat coffee table was empty. The small living area opened into a smaller kitchen.
The door to his bedroom was shut, as usual. Not a door was left open nor a light on, everything was quiet except for the humming fan. He turned the air conditioning on, it was rather stuffy and hot for the most part and he never left windows open. There wasn't much of value in the place. His computer, which was at the desk in his room, was about it. The only thing he owned that was even close to decorative were bookshelves, there were two in this room. Mostly, they contained textbooks and research materials, the very rare novel, two books of French poetry but otherwise not much to suggest that he had sentiments at all. The apartment smelled mildly of disinfectant, a cold sharp scent but not unpleasant. It was a cold-faced place with a stony heart.
He looked over at her drunkenly, slouching against the doorframe, then when she asked staggered over, roughly bumping into the television as he stumbled, over next to her and sat on the couch. He wasn't sure what to do with himself now that she wasn't stroking him anymore, he was unsure in initiating contact, but he did slouch against the cushions, propping his feet up on the coffee table, which he never did. He had taken his shoes off at the door, tying the laces and also hanging them up on a hook. Odd quirks, for certain. He didn't bother with Simone's shoes though.
"Ohkay," he slurred, late, looking over at her with his pupils still madly dilated. He moved towards her, hesitated. Then he was up against her, hip to hip, reaching behind her back to her other hip to bring her back up against his shoulder, then kissing her again. What the heck was he doing? He wasn't exactly sure, either. Just drunken groping and motion motion, bare hand on her thigh almost translucently white. "C'mere baaaaaaaby," he mumbled, trying to drawl it out sexily but failing miserably, trying to remember how exactly one went about these things. |
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Post by simonedelautre on Jul 28, 2011 16:42:38 GMT -5
stop there and let me correct it , [/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
She sensed his hesitation as he sat down next to her, speaking a few moments too late. But she wasn't concerned. It wasn't like she wanted him, not really. Sure, the alcohol had a somewhat natural arousing affect, but otherwise, she still wasn't going to start things with him. Maybe her head was a little clearer than it had been when she was in the taxi, or maybe her sexual reactions were only triggered when their bodies were touching. She wasn't usually the type to go home with a guy she'd just met, so she was about as clueless as to the meaning of her actions as anyone else was.
And then suddenly his hesitation seemed to fade and he was on top of her, all over her. She had a brief urge to push him off, turning her head away from his hungry mouth, but she realized her arms were pretty much pinned to her sides. He wasn't a big guy, but she wasn't exactly strong either. So she gave in, the only thing she could do.
She felt his hands begin to move around, exploring her crevices, and her skin prickled against his touch. Deep inside her head a warning went off that he was a creep, but, damn, it felt good. She ignored the warning from her conscience, entirely forgetting his original disgusting looks and geek status. His hands pulled her closer against him, almost possessively. Not that they could really get any closer than they already were. She managed to wriggle one of her arms free, and slid it under his arm around his back. The few guys she'd been with had been of a more muscular type, but she didn't really notice the lack of rippling muscles under his skin. She sunk her lips against his, tasting the alcohol that stained their breath. "Hen-er-eyy..." Her voice faded into another kiss.
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center]
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Post by prospice1 on Jul 28, 2011 17:45:11 GMT -5
He didn't really realize that he was pinning her down. He didn't really realize what he himself was doing. It was mad, crazy, frenetic and not really thinking so much, just fear and intensity and pleasure and an alcohol blur. He checked himself just before her arm came around his back and she kissed him back, and then he was lost and couldn't recall any sort of sensibility that he had. His body was wiring a set of instructions to his brain, slow down, think about what you're doing, otherwise it will all be over too fast. So he let her kiss him, some deep part of him screaming in protest at her lips on his and his on hers. But that part was buried by something baser, more primal, and he kissed her back with his finger wound in her long hair. He kissed her with his mouth open.
His hands. They were on the nape of her neck, in her hair. He untangled them, his fingers stroking down the back of her neck to where her halter top met her body. He slid the strap down her shoulder, but was unable to do much else without pulling away, untangling a mass of arms and legs and lips all intertwined. Nonetheless his hands found their way under her shirt, on her her shoulders, her spine. He withdrew slightly, opening his eyes to look at her face so close to his that it was a blur. One hand was on her hip now, his fingers fiddling with the zipper but not undoing it because he wasn't sure what she would do if he did.
He broke away from her lips, kissed her neck instead, the side of it, his fingers still twirling the little zipper around, playing with it almost. He mumbled in her ear but he wasn't really saying anything, sweet nothings, more noise than speech because there wasn't much to say. He pulls back, just his upper body, just slightly and looks at her questioningly, his eyes searching for some indication of what she wants him to do, what she wants to do. He is aware again, vaguely, of how many points of contact there are between then even now, his hand lying still around her hip, their legs, their thighs. He is caught between continuing and walking away, there is fear in his eyes and he is sharply aware of all his inadequacies, that he does not deserve to lie here. But yet he wants to continue, to undo that zipper... wasn't that what he came for anyway? |
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Post by simonedelautre on Jul 29, 2011 10:11:55 GMT -5
stop there and let me correct it , [/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
The world just kind of faded out and Simone lost track of everything. Except, of course, Henry. She felt him playing with her zipper. Like he wanted to take that step but was afraid she wasn't ready. Instead of verbalizing her consent, she, being more confident in her advances, managed to fumble around between the and unzip his. From there, the rest became clouded in a drunken haze.
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The next thing she knew, she was waking up in a bed. It wasn't hers. Well, the bed she called "hers" at the inn where she was renting a room. In an essence, the bed was unfamiliar. So were the bleak white walls of the room it was in. She sat up, startled, and looked around as her eyes adjusted to the morning light. Where was she?
Then she realized there was a guy sleeping next to her. It only took one look at him to figure out he was not the type of guy she would ever go home with. This was so obvious to her, it came through in clear thoughts, despite the pounding headache torturing her head. She glared at him and began talking in a rush, "We didn't...," her words trailed off as she looked down at her own body, clothed only in a black lacy bra, realizing the answer to her own question. She shuddered, feeling grossed out by the fact that she'd obviously spent the night with this guy, doing god knows what, in some tiny apartment in a very trashy part of town. The latter part she was able to discern from the size of the room and a vague memory of the walk from the taxi into the place. Somehow, she couldn't really remember anything from that point.
Wait a minute. She couldn't remember it. Maybe she'd just come up to his apartment and passed out. If so, that would be he had taken advantage of her. That had to be it. Her face grew red and she started stomping around the room screaming. her head. She glared at him and began talking in a rush, "You perv! You sick, twisted little freak. Oh, don't think for a second you could get away with me actually believing this was consensual. No way. No way in hell would I ever agree to anything with you. Ugh, she shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. Of course, her palms came into contact with her own bare skin, and she realized she was still standing there, basically naked, for him to see. But she had no earthly idea where her clothes where, so she was at his mercy until she could convince him to give them back. Instead, she ripped a blanket from the bed, and wrapped it around herself as best she could.
you come along because i love your face , [/size][/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center]
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