JACK
"Mm, bet I could," Jack agrees, his free hand also drifting over the snug fit of the corset, the lace and ribbing and structure of it. "I don't cut your ropes unless I absolutely have to, though." All of that's to say it would need to be quite a situation for him to consider snipping through the ribbons to drag the garment off her. Jack would be lying if he said he couldn't already imagine the sound of it, though, or the arch of her body against his warm palms, breasts accentuated by the tight grip of the corset before it releases its hold.
He'd be lying even more to say that image doesn't become clear and impossible to ignore as she stretches, the Captain tilting his head approvingly before taking another drag on his smoke and pushing his sunglasses up a fraction. She sashays across the room and he perches on the edge of a desk most likely used for sketching out designs or marking down measurements, watching the peek of her thigh through the slit in the lace wrap with an interest that goes beyond her being his job.
"Mm?" What would he choose for her? "Reckon you've already picked out most of what I'd choose in these piles," he remarks. Still, stubbing out the cigarette on the edge of the desk, Jack exhales slowly and rolls back to his feet, stepping around to investigate. He plucks something up here, grabs another couple of items there, and hums his satisfaction.
"Here," he says, setting the bits of the outfit own on the counter and gesturing for her to turn around so he might unlace the work he's just done.
He'd be lying even more to say that image doesn't become clear and impossible to ignore as she stretches, the Captain tilting his head approvingly before taking another drag on his smoke and pushing his sunglasses up a fraction. She sashays across the room and he perches on the edge of a desk most likely used for sketching out designs or marking down measurements, watching the peek of her thigh through the slit in the lace wrap with an interest that goes beyond her being his job.
"Mm?" What would he choose for her? "Reckon you've already picked out most of what I'd choose in these piles," he remarks. Still, stubbing out the cigarette on the edge of the desk, Jack exhales slowly and rolls back to his feet, stepping around to investigate. He plucks something up here, grabs another couple of items there, and hums his satisfaction.
"Here," he says, setting the bits of the outfit own on the counter and gesturing for her to turn around so he might unlace the work he's just done.
you're the last of a dying breed; write our names in the wet concrete
I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me
I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me
Code stolen from Queen Sky
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
