[His hands were literally like ice and when they pushed against her back, she gasped and nearly jumped into his chest, her legs spreading wider as he plays with her skin.
Naturally, there is only one word that she has on her mind: cold. She's close to chattering away, as she's been half-dressed for almost an hour and now she's got her own AC system blowing on her body, but now it's a game, one that she's growing rather fond of.
She likes the way his eyes look, they scare the holy terror out of her but he feels good (cold, but good; it's a strange thing) and she has to peel herself off of him just to get her hands stationed on his waist. They're idling there, just for good measure.]
I could answer that, but you already know the answer, don't you?
[She took her hands off of him and slowly peeled off her shirt, suddenly very conscious of the bright pink bra she wore that day. With a grimace, she looked away and sighed.]
no subject
Naturally, there is only one word that she has on her mind: cold. She's close to chattering away, as she's been half-dressed for almost an hour and now she's got her own AC system blowing on her body, but now it's a game, one that she's growing rather fond of.
She likes the way his eyes look, they scare the holy terror out of her but he feels good (cold, but good; it's a strange thing) and she has to peel herself off of him just to get her hands stationed on his waist. They're idling there, just for good measure.]
I could answer that, but you already know the answer, don't you?
[She took her hands off of him and slowly peeled off her shirt, suddenly very conscious of the bright pink bra she wore that day. With a grimace, she looked away and sighed.]
Laundry day.