orgy room III

Walks in.

Sits down and opens a notebook.

A stripe in the quiet
would never start a riot,
and one stripe would never do;
there should be more than a few.

She calls out a name.
Not his - what a shame.
He's not the right one,
but he's a lot of fun.
 
Walking in, throwing off my boots, kicking my feet up on an ottoman as I recline on the barcalounger.
 
*shrugs* Nap sounds good, but it's been a tense weekend for me, so I dunno if I can, you know? Moving, long drives, weird hotels, it's just stressful
 
*grabs a seat on the edge of that couch, against your hips, and places fingertips on your ankle, drawing lines up your calve, thigh, down the other thigh"

"Feeling that?"
 
*grins broadly at the appparent receptivity, he settles down, sitting on the edge of the couch*

"tell me how this feels"

*fingertips glide from your inner ankle to your calf, underrside of knee, circling on your thigh very near that mini hemline.
 
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