Kaisel
Heaven help me, the devil wears lace and she can't be tamed
One brow rises, slow and curious, as her arms cross and she pulls herself taller, as if requiring every part of her for the denial. Or perhaps, just leveling her own defensive counter measures against him, if the newfound swell of her breasts over the fire line is any indication. It's certainly an indication of his attention, as helpless as the sea responding to the pull of the moon, so his gaze is inevitably controlled by the sway of his wife's cleavage.
The emphasized buzzer sound helps break the spell, the appeal of her chest less than conquering her, at least in this moment. A flicker of a frown mars his otherwise neutral expression as his failure becomes clear. "Not Spice?" he scoffs out, disbelief causing a small shake of his head. "You're mad." Clearly, it's easy to break into any of his password protected things. Not letting the dejection that Spice hadn't been the answer and that he hadn't gotten it on the first try settle, his eyes shift to the side, contemplative.
"Hmmm," he muses aloud, slipping back into the game of feigned indifference. His hand keeps his shirt riding high over his stomach, fingers still splayed just beneath his pecs as if there's comfort in holding himself through these trials and nothing more meant to it. It's also so hot, though the slow return of his eyes back to her dusk-dusted silhouette suggests there's more than the Climb's surrounding air to blame, and certainly more than decoding on his mind. Whenever he catches himself back on her though, he turns it away, schooling the inevitable tilt of his lips back into something puckered with disinterest.
His other hand hooks hard into the waistband of his pants, a casual prop for the weight of his arm. Except, the pressure of the perch there causes his loose pants to ride down beneath the curve of his thumb, his adonis belt rising above the sinking fabric. Sighing as if amused at how obvious the answer could be, he tosses out simple, "It's gummyworms, isn't it?"
The emphasized buzzer sound helps break the spell, the appeal of her chest less than conquering her, at least in this moment. A flicker of a frown mars his otherwise neutral expression as his failure becomes clear. "Not Spice?" he scoffs out, disbelief causing a small shake of his head. "You're mad." Clearly, it's easy to break into any of his password protected things. Not letting the dejection that Spice hadn't been the answer and that he hadn't gotten it on the first try settle, his eyes shift to the side, contemplative.
"Hmmm," he muses aloud, slipping back into the game of feigned indifference. His hand keeps his shirt riding high over his stomach, fingers still splayed just beneath his pecs as if there's comfort in holding himself through these trials and nothing more meant to it. It's also so hot, though the slow return of his eyes back to her dusk-dusted silhouette suggests there's more than the Climb's surrounding air to blame, and certainly more than decoding on his mind. Whenever he catches himself back on her though, he turns it away, schooling the inevitable tilt of his lips back into something puckered with disinterest.
His other hand hooks hard into the waistband of his pants, a casual prop for the weight of his arm. Except, the pressure of the perch there causes his loose pants to ride down beneath the curve of his thumb, his adonis belt rising above the sinking fabric. Sighing as if amused at how obvious the answer could be, he tosses out simple, "It's gummyworms, isn't it?"
Let me see the good girl you wanted to be. All of my praise, only from me.
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
