[ She stops. Well, stops nibbling and tugging, anyway. Her fingers are still on his other ear, but they're just lingering. Her nose is touching the top of his head, and she's... inhaling. ]
To think that I haven't even really gone at you, and yet it's already like this. You really are repressed, aren't you.
I'd like you to take a moment to think about that statement in relation to the position you're currently in and consider whether or not you'd like to retract it. I'll only give you the one chance, though.
[ As she says this, she takes off her shoes, hikes up her skirt, and goes ahead and saddles herself up, sitting just below his stomach. It takes her another moment to put her hair back, but once she's done she's got those spider fingers going along his chest and is uttering a sound that makes it seem like she's surveying a buffet. ]
I mean, if you just let me do everything without showing a little cheek, well... That'd just be a turn off.
If you wanted me to fight, was binding me really the thing to do.
[Her sitting on him doesn't seem to be enough to make breathing difficult or anything. He's trying to relax, since this is.. to help him be less strained.
His body is very firm, but he definitely doesn't train the way his father does. It's more natural buffness.]
Hmn... [ She can definitely feel the difference. It takes her right back to the days she taught combat. She remembers kids exactly like him, 'Unfairly hot young bodies that still did as they should...' ]
[ Not that she's old enough to really put any bitter feelings behind that thought, but she's still going to tweak his nipple all the same. ]
Of course I don't mean physically. If that happened, you'd be worse off than before.
[ Because it's kind of been easy so far. Enough that she feels comfortable taking off her shirt and getting up close already. Close enough to see nice and clearly. ]
Page 8 of 24