Do you have conversations that don't descend into the ridiculous? [It's a trait he's clearly enjoying.] Grey goose and lack of interruption from her husband might have been nice.
[She smiles into the kiss, her mouth tasting a bit like VB, and she moves forward a bit so she's closer to him, a hand going into his hair and curling there]
[When his hands become involved it's to curl at her hip, encouraging he to turn in a little, mirror his movements. It could be tragic, couldn't it, a girl who doesn't exist. In some ways it's perfect.]
[She turns, she picks up the cues with a level of empathy that the other version of this woman doesn't have. That Saya picks up cues from practice, from knowledge of what men like.
There is something fresher, here, something less measured. She puts her hand down his neck, to his shoulders]
[It's her eyes that mark the most difference to him, and he's always rubbished the idea of any soul having windows. When he pulls back, each time he does, it's to catch her eye again.]
Otherwise we'll have to pin it on the aphrodisiac qualities of VB. And that's going to skew my whole scientific perspective.
[Even he has to give her a look at that revelation. As much as he can from this angle.]
...Who needs medical reason. [The words are soft growl at the back of his throat, and before they become something more embarrassing (like a whimper), he turns his head. Just enough to kiss the base of her throat where she's leaning in to him.] Want to open up a homeopathic surf shop with me? We can sell... biodynamic... mm.
[Glorious abs of gold? Chase continues to approach from the opposite angle, slipping her top off one shoulder, nuzzling down to catch the upper edge of her bra between his teeth.
So this is muffled, but nevermind. He's pulling her hips against his, shifting further back onto the bed.]
[The job's already half done, and the shirt stays with her as he sits back up, shrugging out of it easily. But, like for like, he slides his hands up over her ribcage, urging the fabric he's probably already stretched a little upwards.]
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[Let him get a breath, raising his eyes, thoughtful.]
Earl grey tea, two sugars, and ginger snap biscuits.
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Oh, a posh and proper deflowering, was it?
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I think if she'd set out to seduce me it might have been a different spread.
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What would you have wanted at your loss of virginity tea?
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[She laughs into her beer and takes another drink]
Do you only go for married women?
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Well, Doctor Robert, I would tell you, but I'm afraid you would turn me down.
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Lucky someone didn't ask your type three days ago. There wouldn't even have been a chance.
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And leans in. And kisses her.]
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Still going to respect me tomorrow?
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There is something fresher, here, something less measured. She puts her hand down his neck, to his shoulders]
I think I can manage that.
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Otherwise we'll have to pin it on the aphrodisiac qualities of VB. And that's going to skew my whole scientific perspective.
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If that were the case every kid in Australia would be shagging like mad.
[And then she thinks about that statement]
...well, it would make certain things make a load of sense.
[But she's crawling into his lap, her mouth on his ear]
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...Who needs medical reason. [The words are soft growl at the back of his throat, and before they become something more embarrassing (like a whimper), he turns his head. Just enough to kiss the base of her throat where she's leaning in to him.] Want to open up a homeopathic surf shop with me? We can sell... biodynamic... mm.
[And lower.]
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[She's tipping her head, then, to let him kiss her, her hands moving down his stomach and to the hem of his shirt]
Mmhmm, I'll open whatever you like.
[She's pushing his shirt up, her fingers against his stomach, tracing the muscles there.]
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So this is muffled, but nevermind. He's pulling her hips against his, shifting further back onto the bed.]
Was that a sexy pun?
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Well, maybe.
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Understand, I'm only going to appreciate comedy up to a certain point.
[He looks up, grins, and lifts her around his waist just long enough to turn both of them over, spreading her on her back across the bed.]
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No, no more bad puns, I promise.
[She tumbles back, and her fingers keep tugging - she wants that shirt off]
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