[He can go for that. In fact, that's kind of what he was hoping for. Although it'll be pretty difficult to kiss the grin off his face, because something about her makes him grin -- what, he can be kinda sappy sometimes, whether he'd admit it or not. He bends his head down to kiss her back, arms going around her immediately, pulling her in close.]
[As least one of them is in a sappy mood. She's in a rough and fast mood, that much is clear at how she's already tugging his shirt out of his pants and trying to get him to step backwards towards any flat surface that's closest. Table, wall, hell, even the floor will do as long as he fucks her like she needs to be tonight.]
[He's good at adapting to whatever it is she needs at the time, and he can tell that she wants something quick and hard, something that has nothing to do with romance. As she tugs at him, he starts navigating her towards the table, because it's closest, and because it's slightly more comfortable than the floor, although he doesn't think she cares much.]
[Romance begets feelings, something else she doesn't want tonight. She just wants him inside her, between her thighs, hard and fast, in the way where she'll remember what when on tonight tomorrow.
Once she feels him bump up against the edge of the table, she moves from his shirt to his pants, yanking down the zipper and fiddling with his belt as she mumbles something between kisses.]
[And that's true enough. He takes orders pretty damn well, and from the way she's undoing his belt as quickly as she possibly can, he knows exactly what she wants. That's one thing he can give her. So now he's tugging at her shirt, too, because it's only fair that they make this a little more even.]
[Not that it's a problem; there's something just so right having a man at her beck and call, a man who's willing to please her in anyway, a man who will obey her in the bedroom. She might have to explore that another time. Right now, she's working his pants open and after raising her arms so he can get her shirt up and over, she drops to her knees in front of him, taking his boxers with her.]
Guess I'm gonna have to tell you what I plan on doing next.
[As if it wasn't obvious by her licking her lips.]
Maybe not when it comes to that. I think I can figure it out.
[He can tell what she has in mind, and he's extremely gratified to get her shirt off, to get a chance to trail his hand across her skin before she drops down onto her knees in front of him. Naturally he's aroused already, because it's pretty difficult to be around her without being aroused, truth be told, especially when she's on her knees like that.]
[And that's the last words she'll be saying for a while. Her tongue has better things to do than help her form snappy comebacks, like being dragged along the length of his cock and back again, only pausing to run the tip across his balls.]
[She's got a real talent for that, and he's certainly not afraid to say it. He's never been shy when it comes to expressing himself, anyway, especially in a situation like this one. His fingers twine into her hair, and he exhales a long, contented breath. This is pretty much how he'd been hoping his day would go, after all.]
[She grins against the skin of his thigh, far too pleased that she's barely even started and he's already cursing. Even though it doesn't seem like it'll take much to get him to that point, Angela's still relishing in the small power rush she gets from doing this. The weight of him on her tongue as she takes him into her mouth, the salty flavor of his skin, the way his fingers scrape her scalp... all of it is just what she craves.]
[He's just an enthusiastic guy in every way, and that includes this. She may have barely gotten started, but he's well aware of how good she is with her mouth. The further she takes him into her mouth the tighter his grip on her hair becomes, because he knows she doesn't mind him being a little rough, a little demanding -- because he knows just as well as she does that she's the one in control, when it comes right down to it.]
[No complaints here about his enthusiasm, just her moaning softly from the tension on her scalp. It's what she wants, seeking that reaction of him babbling wordlessly as she hollows her cheeks out around his cock, as she pulls back to just suck on the very tip of him, looking for those spots that'll make him pull on her hair because it's too much, too overwhelmed, pulling him too close the edge this early.]
[It's not a complaint, though, just a valid question, because she's uncannily good at finding those spots and exploiting them, and of course it makes him tug at her, one hand gripping onto her hair, one hand gripping the table because he needs something else to hold onto.]
[If there was every a cocky look to rival his, it's the one plastered on her face as she looks up at him, the tip of her tongue rolling just under the head, right in that little divot that she knows drives most men wild. Experience serves her well.]
There's no way in hell I'd let myself die before I fucked you. That just wouldn't be fair to either of us.
[That cocky look is pretty damn alluring, and he returns it, looking down at her, not stifling a low groan. She knows she's driving him wild, and she's not afraid to be proud of it. He likes that.]
[She could stop and bend over the table and let him give her what she came here for, but why do that when she's enjoying herself so much? She wants to push him to the edge, keep him hanging right there where he's so close that anything will have him losing it all. That much is arousing as feeling him inside her.
That doesn't mean she's satisfied with being ignored and with her shirt off, it's more than easy to fondle her own breasts as she continues sucking him, making her nipples stand stiff at attention.]
[There's no denying that she knows exactly what she's doing, and he likes that. It's almost better this way, that she's teasing him, pushing at him, not quite letting him be pushed over the edge -- because where would the fun be in that? -- but tormenting him all the same. When he looks down again to see her fondling her breasts like that, the way she touches her nipples, he can't help but want to do the same, but of course she's just out of reach, and the groan he lets out has a fair amount of frustration mixed in, too. The fun kind of frustration. The kind she's so very good at providing.]
[What she wouldn't do to feel his mouth in place of her hands and the temptation is strong to let him do it. That frustration she hears doesn't help abate her suddenly building need. She should have mercy on him, mercy on herself, but she won't. Not until she takes a deep breath and pulls him as deep as she can, moving a hand to hold his hips in place as she swallows, dark eyes watching every flicker of reactions on his face.]
[It's amazing that his enunciation of certain words actually gets better when he's flustered and frustrated and aroused, but it certainly seems to be the case. He wants to move his hips, but he knows better than to do so when her hand's holding them in place, so his grip on the table just tightens, his knuckles going white from the force he's gripping it with. He doesn't grab her hair as hard as he's grabbing the table, but still, there's an increased pressure nonetheless.
He could close his eyes from how good it feels, but he won't. No, he likes this whole eye contact thing far too much to look away now.]
[For being the one in control, Angela finds herself getting weak in the knees at how he holds their eye contact. Far too many people would look away or close their eyes, either from embarrassment of being seen so open and so raw or from sudden awkwardness. There's neither here and she likes that about him. So unfettered, not a bit of shame when it comes to sex. That alone is a turn on and as she lets go of him, she leans back on her legs, lips tinged red and slightly swollen, panting more from arousal than a lack of air.]
[The way he sees it, there're way too many things in life to be ashamed of, but this shouldn't be one of them. They're both enjoying themselves, and there's something so goddamned beautiful about her dark, intense eyes... but there he goes getting sappy again, and that's not what she wants, so he just reaches for her, wanting to pull her close to him -- and wanting to bend her over the table, or get her sitting on the table, or something that can give them what he knows they both desperately want.]
[Angela doesn't hesitate getting to her feet and letting him pull her close. She finds his mouth again, seeking her way back in, as she tugs on the waistband of her pants. The faster she gets the rest of her clothing off, the faster she'll be the one cursing and pleading.]
[He's willing to help with her pants, too, wanting to slide her out of them and have her standing in front of him naked and perfect. His hands might be moving quickly, but they're deft in their work, too. There's no clumsiness or awkwardness here, just desire and something very much like need. His lips part for her, deepening the kiss.]
[She's back at that place she arrived in, that awareness of how bad she needs this, that she wants nothing more than him right now. The pants can't come off fast enough and once they hit her ankles, she's kicking them away without a care. Where they fall, she'll figure out later. Just now it's him and her, bared to each other, and she's touching every part of skin she can find.]
[He grins into her mouth as she kicks her pants away, feeling her body pressed against his, relishing the touch of her warm, bare skin as he slides a hand down her back and then around her side, reaching between them to trail down her hips and then, finally, between her legs. He knows she probably doesn't want a whole lot of teasing right now, but she'd gotten him so worked up, it's reasonable to return the favor.
As soon as his fingers find just the right spot, of course, he wastes no time in beginning a teasing, almost lazy rubbing motion.]
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Once she feels him bump up against the edge of the table, she moves from his shirt to his pants, yanking down the zipper and fiddling with his belt as she mumbles something between kisses.]
Should've been naked when I called.
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[And that's true enough. He takes orders pretty damn well, and from the way she's undoing his belt as quickly as she possibly can, he knows exactly what she wants. That's one thing he can give her. So now he's tugging at her shirt, too, because it's only fair that they make this a little more even.]
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[Not that it's a problem; there's something just so right having a man at her beck and call, a man who's willing to please her in anyway, a man who will obey her in the bedroom. She might have to explore that another time. Right now, she's working his pants open and after raising her arms so he can get her shirt up and over, she drops to her knees in front of him, taking his boxers with her.]
Guess I'm gonna have to tell you what I plan on doing next.
[As if it wasn't obvious by her licking her lips.]
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[He can tell what she has in mind, and he's extremely gratified to get her shirt off, to get a chance to trail his hand across her skin before she drops down onto her knees in front of him. Naturally he's aroused already, because it's pretty difficult to be around her without being aroused, truth be told, especially when she's on her knees like that.]
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[And that's the last words she'll be saying for a while. Her tongue has better things to do than help her form snappy comebacks, like being dragged along the length of his cock and back again, only pausing to run the tip across his balls.]
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[She's got a real talent for that, and he's certainly not afraid to say it. He's never been shy when it comes to expressing himself, anyway, especially in a situation like this one. His fingers twine into her hair, and he exhales a long, contented breath. This is pretty much how he'd been hoping his day would go, after all.]
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[It's not a complaint, though, just a valid question, because she's uncannily good at finding those spots and exploiting them, and of course it makes him tug at her, one hand gripping onto her hair, one hand gripping the table because he needs something else to hold onto.]
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Don't die before you fuck me.
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[That cocky look is pretty damn alluring, and he returns it, looking down at her, not stifling a low groan. She knows she's driving him wild, and she's not afraid to be proud of it. He likes that.]
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That doesn't mean she's satisfied with being ignored and with her shirt off, it's more than easy to fondle her own breasts as she continues sucking him, making her nipples stand stiff at attention.]
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[It's amazing that his enunciation of certain words actually gets better when he's flustered and frustrated and aroused, but it certainly seems to be the case. He wants to move his hips, but he knows better than to do so when her hand's holding them in place, so his grip on the table just tightens, his knuckles going white from the force he's gripping it with. He doesn't grab her hair as hard as he's grabbing the table, but still, there's an increased pressure nonetheless.
He could close his eyes from how good it feels, but he won't. No, he likes this whole eye contact thing far too much to look away now.]
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C'mere.
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As soon as his fingers find just the right spot, of course, he wastes no time in beginning a teasing, almost lazy rubbing motion.]
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