// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //
His unending smile is answer enough before his mouth works. "On my knees, on my back, sitting at the table, wherever they are, I'll be nearby." There's no lack of confidence on his part for that fact. He's certain whatever shape their knees are in, he'll somehow be in the path of a boob sway a time or two.
Climbing aboard her chocolate rocket to dramatize being railed, he can only immaturely laugh right along with her. It’s stupid, gloriously and helplessly stupid, and that’s exactly what he loves about it and about her. She doesn't pull away or tone him down, and she hasn't ever made him feel like he's too much. Instead, she meets him there, in the muck, laughter spilling brighter than the sunlight itself, and somehow turns the ridiculous into something golden. He'll have times where he should be less, and he'll trust in her then when she asks him to be, because it wouldn't be a request she makes lightly, as others have too often done.
Through the haze of laughter, mud streaked and magnificent, he knows without a doubt that she is what he’s always been looking for. Someone who doesn’t just let him be himself, but wants him that way. It softens him abruptly, and some of the wildness fades into just a glow, pausing to appreciate the view of her beneath him. As her voice drops low and suggestive again, he tilts his head, 'brows lifting with the effort to read between the lines she's pointing at. He just can't quite seem to find the place, especially since, as far as he knows, Spa de Wildering is just between them, no actual marketing needed. "You...want me to stick my dick in some mud??" Is about the best he can get out of it. "I mean, I guess." He shrugs, unsure what she'd get out of the whole thing, unless she likes the taste of mud and means to...?
Surging into the surefire mud titty idea, a laugh breaks around him as she collides harder with his chest to steal more mud. "No!" he exclaims, trying to swerve away from her. "Don't change them a bit! They're perfect as is." Of course, if they're talking about sizes, dick size can always go up...
He's nodding along to each item she lists off, such that when she proudly announces dicks, he'd have nodded along to that to at first. He doesn't have much choice in the matter except to shout as he's suddenly kicked off by all the new girth he provided her. He ends up sprawling onto his side near her shoulder, overtaken by laughter as he unwinds his legs from around her. His heel flops into the mess around them with a wet, loud, squelch. He glances sidelong at her, lips drawn into a mess of a smile. "You don't have to do anything for my birthday you know. I already have everything I want."
Climbing aboard her chocolate rocket to dramatize being railed, he can only immaturely laugh right along with her. It’s stupid, gloriously and helplessly stupid, and that’s exactly what he loves about it and about her. She doesn't pull away or tone him down, and she hasn't ever made him feel like he's too much. Instead, she meets him there, in the muck, laughter spilling brighter than the sunlight itself, and somehow turns the ridiculous into something golden. He'll have times where he should be less, and he'll trust in her then when she asks him to be, because it wouldn't be a request she makes lightly, as others have too often done.
Through the haze of laughter, mud streaked and magnificent, he knows without a doubt that she is what he’s always been looking for. Someone who doesn’t just let him be himself, but wants him that way. It softens him abruptly, and some of the wildness fades into just a glow, pausing to appreciate the view of her beneath him. As her voice drops low and suggestive again, he tilts his head, 'brows lifting with the effort to read between the lines she's pointing at. He just can't quite seem to find the place, especially since, as far as he knows, Spa de Wildering is just between them, no actual marketing needed. "You...want me to stick my dick in some mud??" Is about the best he can get out of it. "I mean, I guess." He shrugs, unsure what she'd get out of the whole thing, unless she likes the taste of mud and means to...?
Surging into the surefire mud titty idea, a laugh breaks around him as she collides harder with his chest to steal more mud. "No!" he exclaims, trying to swerve away from her. "Don't change them a bit! They're perfect as is." Of course, if they're talking about sizes, dick size can always go up...
He's nodding along to each item she lists off, such that when she proudly announces dicks, he'd have nodded along to that to at first. He doesn't have much choice in the matter except to shout as he's suddenly kicked off by all the new girth he provided her. He ends up sprawling onto his side near her shoulder, overtaken by laughter as he unwinds his legs from around her. His heel flops into the mess around them with a wet, loud, squelch. He glances sidelong at her, lips drawn into a mess of a smile. "You don't have to do anything for my birthday you know. I already have everything I want."
Kaisel
// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
