So that means we might as well have fun, as long as nothing's safe, right?
[And maybe, just maybe, he's loosening his tie and undoing his top buttons a little. Is he really planning on sitting here practically naked? Only time will tell.]
[Not that she's arguing against his stance. And she's certainly not looking away as he unbuttons his shirt. Her tipsy mind wonders how far he'll get clothing-wise without her taking any of hers off.]
Okay, it ain't what you said, but it's what I extrapolated. That counts, right?
[His shirt is tossed aside, and now he's in his undershirt and underwear, sitting there like he has no care in the world, certainly not expecting her to reciprocate unless she feels inclined to.],
Extrapolating leads you into trouble. You know what they say about assuming things.
[She doesn't have an inclination just yet, but that doesn't mean she eventually won't. Angela's still trying to behave herself sexwise and Jimmy has a boatload of issues to deal with, but her guards are down and the alcohol is beginning to hit her. She's still aware, but her inhibitions are falling to the wayside. Okay, more like being dropkicked to the wayside. Potato, potahto.]
So's your boxers. [She points her pinky towards said underwear.] Should I cover my eyes and give you some privacy?
[Exhibitionist? To some extent, yes. That's probably why he's stripping off his undershirt, too, leaving him there in just his boxers, grinning at her like he doesn't have a care in the world.]
Sometimes extrapolation leads me to some pretty great things, y'know.
I'm just making sure, you know, in case you suddenly get shy on me.
[She's definitely liking this. She always wondered what was under than tux and what's under it is pretty impressive. He's not a beanpole nor is he super muscular, just lean and tones, just how she likes them.
She licks her lips absentmindedly, eyes coasting down the line of his chest.]
[Such a fucking tease, sitting there sipping at her drink like nothing at all, enjoying this unexpected strip tease. She's awful, he's awful, and they're both awful together and this is why they shouldn't be left in the same room along.]
Are you trying to break me? [It's obvious she's cracking already. His issues be damned.]
It depends. If I said I got off at the thought of you, would you consider that breaking?
[Certainly that's something she never planned on telling him, but there's no shame in telling the man in your fantasies that he is the man in your fantasies, especially when you know the feeling is mutual.
And there's no shame in doing it with a straight innocent face as well.]
[She licks her lips, almost hungrily, but it's not food she wants. This is honestly shit timing; he's hurting and emotionally compromised and she's trying her best to keep her vow, but as each day passes, things get harder (no pun intended) and the need for physical comfort and physical distraction grows.
Maybe it's just time. Whatever it is, she can't help but slide forward on her chair, hanging on the edge in anticipation.]
Where are we going with this? I mean, I'm not here to take advantage of you at a time like this as much as I want to ravage you.
I dunno where we're goin' with this. What I know is that right now I wanna kiss you, 'n it definitely wouldn't be takin' advantage of me.
[And with that said, he leans forward in his chair, close enough to close the gap between them, close enough to go in for a kiss, aware of the fact that he could get slapped away at any moment, and willing to take the risk.]
[So she says, not moving back an inch. She's not going to slap him away, not when she wants those lips on hers again. A bad idea, but when has she ever turned away from a bad idea than promised to be fun? Never and she's sure as hell not going to start now when she'd rather be kissing him.
And she does, slow and soft, almost polite, a strong contradiction in the way she just really wants to push him over in that chair and climb all over him.]
[Not for him, though. For her. He deepens the kiss, puts his hand on her cheek and draws her closer, tries to make that kiss less slow, less soft, less polite.]
[No, it's pretty much an awful choice on both their parts, but who's being hurt right now? As far as anyone knows, they can stick to kissing, keeping most of their hands away from each other's bodies, keep things relatively innocent. But with him damn near naked and her groaning just the least bit each time his tongue swipes across her lips so aggressively, being well behaved is goal that's growing more distant by the moment.]
[Being well behaved is apparently not something he thinks he's capable of, either, because after a few moments of kissing her as intensely as he can, he pulls away, resting his forehead against hers, breathing hard.]
Y'know, I... know you're gonna say no, but do you wanna go somewhere more comfortable?
That's where you're wrong. I'm not going to say no.
[Not this time. It's been so long. She misses sex and all the intimacy that comes with it. If this turns out to be comfort sex, so be it. She did her job. He'll comforted and she'll finally get off some way other than her hand. Everybody will be happy.]
[The grin that breaks across his face is shameless and positively radiant. Grabbing her by the hand, he stands up, intending to lead her to his bedroom.]
I really thought you were gonna say no, but I ain't complainin'.
Yeah, well, you were the one who said this isn't taking advantage of you. Can't say no when I have no guilt to feel.
[Ugh, that grin does things to her that it shouldn't. It makes her feel flushed with warmth that runs right down her body. It's an anticipatory feeling, that tingle of excitement of knowing something good's about to happen. This time, it won't be a surprise because both of them know all too well what's about to go down, but that doesn't mean Angela isn't light on her feet as she's following him down the hall and to his room.]
Not sure you could take advantage of me, to be honest. I've been thinkin' about this for a long time.
[Pretty much ever since he met her, actually, but then things had happened, and he'd put his foot in his mouth in a big way talking about his wife. She might just be doing this to comfort him, but at the moment, he's not entirely convinced he cares. Kicking open the door to his room, he turns around to face her, pulling her into his arms and walking backwards into the room, drawing her towards the bed.]
I could do a lot of things to you... but that's why we're here, aren't we?
[To find that out, right? That very long list.
She can't lie and say she hasn't thought about it, especially when she's already admitted that he features in her mind far more often than not. Even if it hasn't been that long since she told him he needed time to mourn, maybe he's had enough time. Dying yourself kind of screws up how long one needs to do something anyway. Who cares? Not her, not when she runs her hands along his bare chest, nails grazing across his nipples on her way to wind her arms around his neck. He's warm and alive and it's not the weird feeling of boning a dead guy anywhere.]
Sure, you could do a lot of things. I wanna find out every single one of them.
[But first, he wants to get them more even in the lacking-clothes department. He's practically naked, and she's still got everything on. That's why he wastes no time going for her shirt, wanting to tug it off, leaning down to kiss her when her arms twine around his neck, shivering at the feeling of her nails grazing his nipples. This is what he'd been imagining all along, and it's happening... maybe there's a benefit to dying after all.]
[How unfortunate he had to die for them to get to this point, but Angela's always been the type to live life while you got it and he has it, she has it, why keep themselves in denial? Denial wouldn't have her lifting her arms so her shirt goes up and over her head and it wouldn't have her tugging roughly at his boxers. Her patience is waning and while she's already felt what he has below his pants, she wants to actually see it.
He's free and heavy in her hand, and she gives a low impressed whistle, smoothing her thumb across the tip.]
Not bad. [It's more than not bad, but his ego is already ridiculous.]
[He's deftly reaching around her back to unhook her bra, but he pauses for a moment to grin at her when she says that. Even a not bad is enough to get him looking smug again -- his ego really doesn't need any boosting, but he'll still take it where he can get it.]
That sounds like a pretty good compliment, comin' from you.
[Then his hands are busy again, getting her bra out of the way, running the pads of his thumbs over her nipples before bending down to scatter kisses on her shoulders and neck.]
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[And maybe, just maybe, he's loosening his tie and undoing his top buttons a little. Is he really planning on sitting here practically naked? Only time will tell.]
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[Not that she's arguing against his stance. And she's certainly not looking away as he unbuttons his shirt. Her tipsy mind wonders how far he'll get clothing-wise without her taking any of hers off.]
Though now I see you're all for living it up.
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[His shirt is tossed aside, and now he's in his undershirt and underwear, sitting there like he has no care in the world, certainly not expecting her to reciprocate unless she feels inclined to.],
Sure I am. Life's short.
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[She doesn't have an inclination just yet, but that doesn't mean she eventually won't. Angela's still trying to behave herself sexwise and Jimmy has a boatload of issues to deal with, but her guards are down and the alcohol is beginning to hit her. She's still aware, but her inhibitions are falling to the wayside. Okay, more like being dropkicked to the wayside. Potato, potahto.]
So's your boxers. [She points her pinky towards said underwear.] Should I cover my eyes and give you some privacy?
[Yeah, right.]
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[Exhibitionist? To some extent, yes. That's probably why he's stripping off his undershirt, too, leaving him there in just his boxers, grinning at her like he doesn't have a care in the world.]
Sometimes extrapolation leads me to some pretty great things, y'know.
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[She's definitely liking this. She always wondered what was under than tux and what's under it is pretty impressive. He's not a beanpole nor is he super muscular, just lean and tones, just how she likes them.
She licks her lips absentmindedly, eyes coasting down the line of his chest.]
And where is it leading you now?
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[He tugs at his boxers, but doesn't pull them down yet.]
'n it's kinda makin' me wonder what it'd take to see you take some of those clothes off.
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[Such a fucking tease, sitting there sipping at her drink like nothing at all, enjoying this unexpected strip tease. She's awful, he's awful, and they're both awful together and this is why they shouldn't be left in the same room along.]
Are you trying to break me? [It's obvious she's cracking already. His issues be damned.]
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[A shameless grin, another sip of his drink, a raised eyebrow. He knows he's awful, but he doesn't think she minds.]
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[Certainly that's something she never planned on telling him, but there's no shame in telling the man in your fantasies that he is the man in your fantasies, especially when you know the feeling is mutual.
And there's no shame in doing it with a straight innocent face as well.]
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[He laughs, grinning that devilish grin.]
I'd say the feeling's mutual, 'n be glad to hear it.
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[She licks her lips, almost hungrily, but it's not food she wants. This is honestly shit timing; he's hurting and emotionally compromised and she's trying her best to keep her vow, but as each day passes, things get harder (no pun intended) and the need for physical comfort and physical distraction grows.
Maybe it's just time. Whatever it is, she can't help but slide forward on her chair, hanging on the edge in anticipation.]
Where are we going with this? I mean, I'm not here to take advantage of you at a time like this as much as I want to ravage you.
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[And with that said, he leans forward in his chair, close enough to close the gap between them, close enough to go in for a kiss, aware of the fact that he could get slapped away at any moment, and willing to take the risk.]
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[So she says, not moving back an inch. She's not going to slap him away, not when she wants those lips on hers again. A bad idea, but when has she ever turned away from a bad idea than promised to be fun? Never and she's sure as hell not going to start now when she'd rather be kissing him.
And she does, slow and soft, almost polite, a strong contradiction in the way she just really wants to push him over in that chair and climb all over him.]
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[Not for him, though. For her. He deepens the kiss, puts his hand on her cheek and draws her closer, tries to make that kiss less slow, less soft, less polite.]
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Y'know, I... know you're gonna say no, but do you wanna go somewhere more comfortable?
[Like his bedroom, maybe?]
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[Not this time. It's been so long. She misses sex and all the intimacy that comes with it. If this turns out to be comfort sex, so be it. She did her job. He'll comforted and she'll finally get off some way other than her hand. Everybody will be happy.]
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I really thought you were gonna say no, but I ain't complainin'.
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[Ugh, that grin does things to her that it shouldn't. It makes her feel flushed with warmth that runs right down her body. It's an anticipatory feeling, that tingle of excitement of knowing something good's about to happen. This time, it won't be a surprise because both of them know all too well what's about to go down, but that doesn't mean Angela isn't light on her feet as she's following him down the hall and to his room.]
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[Pretty much ever since he met her, actually, but then things had happened, and he'd put his foot in his mouth in a big way talking about his wife. She might just be doing this to comfort him, but at the moment, he's not entirely convinced he cares. Kicking open the door to his room, he turns around to face her, pulling her into his arms and walking backwards into the room, drawing her towards the bed.]
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[To find that out, right? That very long list.
She can't lie and say she hasn't thought about it, especially when she's already admitted that he features in her mind far more often than not. Even if it hasn't been that long since she told him he needed time to mourn, maybe he's had enough time. Dying yourself kind of screws up how long one needs to do something anyway. Who cares? Not her, not when she runs her hands along his bare chest, nails grazing across his nipples on her way to wind her arms around his neck. He's warm and alive and it's not the weird feeling of boning a dead guy anywhere.]
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[But first, he wants to get them more even in the lacking-clothes department. He's practically naked, and she's still got everything on. That's why he wastes no time going for her shirt, wanting to tug it off, leaning down to kiss her when her arms twine around his neck, shivering at the feeling of her nails grazing his nipples. This is what he'd been imagining all along, and it's happening... maybe there's a benefit to dying after all.]
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He's free and heavy in her hand, and she gives a low impressed whistle, smoothing her thumb across the tip.]
Not bad. [It's more than not bad, but his ego is already ridiculous.]
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That sounds like a pretty good compliment, comin' from you.
[Then his hands are busy again, getting her bra out of the way, running the pads of his thumbs over her nipples before bending down to scatter kisses on her shoulders and neck.]
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