[ It tastes like ass and Lottie's face reflects it, just how much she loathes the taste. But she continues anyway, feeling warm and buzzed. Doesn't want John t think she can't hang, even when she knows he doesn't care. ]
Really? Like, in a social [ people idolizing you ] kinda way or..?
I mean, I was a god-Emperor. Eternal life, millions of worshippers, sacred rulership, that sort of thing.
[ Like, don't worry about it, his tone says. His arm around her waist keeping her close, his other hand tracing slightly over the material of her long skirt, just a tickle over her knee. Nervous, adoring John. ]
[ His tone says it's so totally cool don't even worry. His arm around her, his hand tracing her knee, says much of the sameβ tells her that and how he can't seem to stay away, always has to have her near. And Lottie? Lottie is always inclined to listen, always wanting to please and to preen and purr for him. Wants him to look at her the way he is right now, so fond, so adoring, forever. It makes her melt. Makes her ego soar.
But.. But. How can she not comment on that?? ]
God-Emperor.
[ She says it like she's testing the way it feels on her tongue. How it meshes with the beer she takes a sip of. She sets the drink down and skirts her hand alongside his at her knee, coyly bunching and dropping the fabric there. Letting him peek at the skin beneath for only moments, and no more. ]
[ He's probably not supposed to agree, but it is. Power is hot, he knows that. So he's just smug, as he leans over and presses a ticklish wet kiss to her neck, nosing her hair out of the way and fisting his hand in her skirt.
His fingers touch skin, thumb warm pressure on the inside of her knee and tracing up to the soft skin of her inner thigh. He feels warm and restlessly horny, the food and drink and energy of the festival all mingling with Lottie's company, the lovely sight and scent of her. ]
[ She knows why he asks β John has decided he has something far sweeter he wants to taste, and it is the warm skin of her neck. Lottie squirms, makes a fond little noise of surprise at the way he digs into her, so stubbornly keeps his hands between her thighs that he has some trouble with her hair.
She helpsβ pools all of it behind her. Even stretches her neck for him, allowing him all the more space he wants at her neck. ]
What do I get if I do?
[ Lottie almost doesn't even want to move, debates on how bad it'd be if she sat on his dick right here, the billowy length of her skirt the only thing concealing the act. Like it'd matter, like she wouldn't be loud. If he'd be mad. Her thighs spread open for him wider, and wider, as his fingers trace her inner thigh. Is hidden from sight, the rest of the festival goers.
He'll find the stretch and snag of elastic, the hint of a strappy underthing, or even a garter, that hugs her tight. Creates dips and curves where the straps bite into her skin. He'll also find that Lottie is already trying to seek out his touch where she wants it most, skirting her hips further to encourage his touch. ]
[ John traces idly up whatever strappy sexy lingerie he's encountered, enjoying the way it presses into her skin, wondering if there'll be a red mark when he pulls it off with his teeth. He lifts it and lightly snaps it against her skin, like a reminder of what they came here to do.
Focusing on his hand means he isn't really focusing on her neck, just idle kisses ticklish with his facial hair. ]
Depends. Should I let you get off before I spank you? Or save it 'til after.
[ His fingers trace higher, reaching the crease of her thigh and swimming across to feel what kind of panties she's wearing. Maybe he'll steal these ones too. ]
[ They're silk, just as soft as what's beneath. A different sensation to the straps he fingers, snaps back to her body. But his touch makes her squirm all the same, makes her breathe softly and her whole body jolt awake with vested interest. It mingles well with the way his breath fans out at her neck, Lottie's interest only growing higher and completely bypassing the reminder of later.
Of the spanking later, getting her off (maybe) later. All she hears is now and she immediately counters with: ]
[ Purred low in her ear. He really does β at this point he still finds her brattiness deeply charming. Especially when it's about getting to come, since he really does like getting her off just way too much.
It's obvious what's happening to anyone looking at them right now, as they sit on this out of the way little bench and John presses his hand up under her skirt and uses clever fingers to pull that scrap of fabric out of the way so he can press to the warm damp skin of her. So she will have both, but they're not going anywhere for it, the movement of his hand clear beneath the fabric in her lap, his eyes creased with a smile. ]
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rubilykskoye π²π·π«πΈπ π¬
no subject
Yeah? Well all right then.
[ He's not a particularly possessive guy, but he's pleased. Slips an arm around her narrow waist, takes another sip of his beer. ]
Just me for tonight. Lucky me.
[ Just like onstage, they'll all want her and none will be able to have her, which is hot. ]
no subject
Yeah. Everyone's gonna wanna be you. Or hate you. Be your friend.
[ And despite having her own drink, typical Lottie wants hisβ she gestures for a sip of that beer. ]
Probably all of the above.
no subject
[ He'll let her drink from his beer β it's not great and he doesn't really like it but it's adding to the festival vibe. ]
I was god for a while, that tends to make a guy pretty popular.
no subject
Really? Like, in a social [ people idolizing you ] kinda way or..?
no subject
[ Like, don't worry about it, his tone says. His arm around her waist keeping her close, his other hand tracing slightly over the material of her long skirt, just a tickle over her knee. Nervous, adoring John. ]
no subject
But.. But. How can she not comment on that?? ]
God-Emperor.
[ She says it like she's testing the way it feels on her tongue. How it meshes with the beer she takes a sip of. She sets the drink down and skirts her hand alongside his at her knee, coyly bunching and dropping the fabric there. Letting him peek at the skin beneath for only moments, and no more. ]
Sounds hot.
no subject
[ He's probably not supposed to agree, but it is. Power is hot, he knows that. So he's just smug, as he leans over and presses a ticklish wet kiss to her neck, nosing her hair out of the way and fisting his hand in her skirt.
His fingers touch skin, thumb warm pressure on the inside of her knee and tracing up to the soft skin of her inner thigh. He feels warm and restlessly horny, the food and drink and energy of the festival all mingling with Lottie's company, the lovely sight and scent of her. ]
Finish the beer for me?
[ He'd do it but his hands are really busy. ]
no subject
She helpsβ pools all of it behind her. Even stretches her neck for him, allowing him all the more space he wants at her neck. ]
What do I get if I do?
[ Lottie almost doesn't even want to move, debates on how bad it'd be if she sat on his dick right here, the billowy length of her skirt the only thing concealing the act. Like it'd matter, like she wouldn't be loud. If he'd be mad. Her thighs spread open for him wider, and wider, as his fingers trace her inner thigh. Is hidden from sight, the rest of the festival goers.
He'll find the stretch and snag of elastic, the hint of a strappy underthing, or even a garter, that hugs her tight. Creates dips and curves where the straps bite into her skin. He'll also find that Lottie is already trying to seek out his touch where she wants it most, skirting her hips further to encourage his touch. ]
no subject
Focusing on his hand means he isn't really focusing on her neck, just idle kisses ticklish with his facial hair. ]
Depends. Should I let you get off before I spank you? Or save it 'til after.
[ His fingers trace higher, reaching the crease of her thigh and swimming across to feel what kind of panties she's wearing. Maybe he'll steal these ones too. ]
no subject
Of the spanking later, getting her off (maybe) later. All she hears is now and she immediately counters with: ]
Why not both? Can't I have both?
no subject
[ Purred low in her ear. He really does β at this point he still finds her brattiness deeply charming. Especially when it's about getting to come, since he really does like getting her off just way too much.
It's obvious what's happening to anyone looking at them right now, as they sit on this out of the way little bench and John presses his hand up under her skirt and uses clever fingers to pull that scrap of fabric out of the way so he can press to the warm damp skin of her. So she will have both, but they're not going anywhere for it, the movement of his hand clear beneath the fabric in her lap, his eyes creased with a smile. ]