Jett Link (
badassbird) wrote in
makinglies2014-08-25 10:10 pm
Entry tags:
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same
Jett finished tying the knot of the scarf around Albert's wrists, making certain the man wouldn't be able to budge them while she worked her magic.
Discovering there was some alternate universe where she and her lover were men instead of women was interesting to say the least and plenty awkward in Albert's presence. But uncertainty had turned a little more comfortable and then they were left in the house alone, Albert sitting in one of the chairs in the den and looking pretty good in his dress shirt and slacks. Good enough Jett decided she wanted to see what all of the differences were between this man and the woman she loved.
She already knew that--other than public disposition and the way they carried themselves when they thought they were alone--it wasn't all that different. For all intents and purposes, he was the person she loved, the outside package didn't matter.
Really, she was more of a lady's lady, but her Bertie was a sexy man and it wasn't like she was inexperienced. In fact, wooing men and bedding them had been part of her job in her gang, she was just doing the same thing here, with one large exception: she wanted to do this a hundred percent.
She moved to stand in front of him, admiring her handiwork with her hands on her hips. She was kind of glad she'd chosen to wear the too-short skirt Francoise had lent her along with the scoop-neck shirt she'd stolen from her alternate self (tied at her waist to shorten the tent that it was on her). It would make what she wanted to do easier.
She slunk over to her 'prisoner' and bent forward, bracing her hands on his knees.
"Comfortable?"
Discovering there was some alternate universe where she and her lover were men instead of women was interesting to say the least and plenty awkward in Albert's presence. But uncertainty had turned a little more comfortable and then they were left in the house alone, Albert sitting in one of the chairs in the den and looking pretty good in his dress shirt and slacks. Good enough Jett decided she wanted to see what all of the differences were between this man and the woman she loved.
She already knew that--other than public disposition and the way they carried themselves when they thought they were alone--it wasn't all that different. For all intents and purposes, he was the person she loved, the outside package didn't matter.
Really, she was more of a lady's lady, but her Bertie was a sexy man and it wasn't like she was inexperienced. In fact, wooing men and bedding them had been part of her job in her gang, she was just doing the same thing here, with one large exception: she wanted to do this a hundred percent.
She moved to stand in front of him, admiring her handiwork with her hands on her hips. She was kind of glad she'd chosen to wear the too-short skirt Francoise had lent her along with the scoop-neck shirt she'd stolen from her alternate self (tied at her waist to shorten the tent that it was on her). It would make what she wanted to do easier.
She slunk over to her 'prisoner' and bent forward, bracing her hands on his knees.
"Comfortable?"

no subject
He pumped his fingers in and out a while longer, preparing her as best he could before he caught her hand in his free one and held it beside her head as he finally removed the digits and shifted to press himself in instead.
His eyes never left her face as he moved, wanting to catch the smallest hint he should stop or change what he was doing as soon as she gave it. As long as he saw she was alright, he gently but firmly pressed the tip in, waiting a small moment before sliding the rest of the way in. She was so tight and warm and it felt so much better than he was expecting, that he picked up a deep and slow pace as soon as he could, his arms wrapping around her to hold her close.
no subject
She presses into him, not just with her hips but her entire body, practically melting with a quiet pant and moan against his chest as she slides her legs up to lock around his waist and keep him doing exactly what he's doing. "Oh..."