[The laughter sends vibrations through her, most likely unintentionally on his part in her pleasure fogged mind, and it's the trigger for her downward spiral. She throws her head back against the arm of the couch and lets go, moans muffled through her hand, back arched off the cushions.
Angela made a mistake letting this man in her house and she means that in the most loving way possible because there is no way in hell she's letting him go home until daylight.]
[He'd kind of wondered if his laughter would do anything, if she'd feel anything different, and apparently she did -- his eyes glance up to watch her face as she comes, not pulling away until he's absolutely sure she's gotten every last bit of pleasure she can.
And sure, his expression might be a little self-satisfied, but hell, he's glad he went home with her.]
[Angela kicks at his shoulder, gently and playfully, with no amount of force behind the action mostly because her legs are still in the midst of trembling.]
[Even though he could just look on her mailbox and find out hers. Though if they put his picture in the paper along with his name... then he's fucked.]
[Can you really blame him? He's just going to take this opportunity to get up and wander into the bathroom, both to get rid of the used condom and to take the excuse to move a little closer to her bedroom.]
[In the meantime, she'll stumble on over the kitchen on the opposite side of the apartment to crack open a bottle of water while standing in front of the open fridge. Their clothes are still in a pile over by the door, in eyeshot, and she chuckles, glad that the dress was going to the dry cleaners anyway.]
[After a few more sips, Angela realizes that he doesn't actually return to the living room and goes on a search for him. He's not in the bathroom and the second bedroom that doubles as her art studio has the door shut, so there's only one other place he can be in the small apartment and that's where Angela heads, bottle still in hand, stopping to lean against the doorjamb with nothing but a smile.]
no subject
Angela made a mistake letting this man in her house and she means that in the most loving way possible because there is no way in hell she's letting him go home until daylight.]
no subject
And sure, his expression might be a little self-satisfied, but hell, he's glad he went home with her.]
no subject
You know you screwed up, right?
[She's smirking at him, sweaty and rosy cheeked.]
no subject
[He smirks right back.]
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Nothing that I know about.
no subject
I knew this would be a good idea.
no subject
no subject
no subject
Your choice. I mean, if you want to make this an ongoing thing and you think it matters, knock yourself out.
no subject
[That way, the next time he gets arrested, she won't read his name in the paper and connect it to the guy she'd brought home from the bar. Good plan.]
no subject
[Even though he could just look on her mailbox and find out hers. Though if they put his picture in the paper along with his name... then he's fucked.]
no subject
[He's not even going to cheat and look to find hers. That would be unfair.]
no subject
I have more in my bedroom, you know. No need to be stingy.
no subject
Yeah, I kinda forgot about that.
[Can you really blame him? He's just going to take this opportunity to get up and wander into the bathroom, both to get rid of the used condom and to take the excuse to move a little closer to her bedroom.]
no subject
no subject
no subject
That's my bed, you know.
no subject
[He grins up at her lazily.]
You wanna kick me out?
no subject
[She steps towards him, pressing the chilly bottle against his legs before dragging it along them, stopping just at his belly button.]
...but I find you pretty useful.
no subject
[He grins at her, but then shivers a little as she drags the bottle across his legs. It's not a bad shiver, though.]
no subject
[Just for kicks, she moves the bottle down a little, right on a hipbone, dangerously close to his cock. Chess with only one moveable play piece.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)