CIAN
the eye
"Hmmm." The whore replies with a modest shrug of her shoulders. The words aren't a challenge, but that doesn't mean she won't take them that way. She has a habit, this woman in white does, of taking all the things she wants. Ronin's adjustments are meant with ones of her own, though she moves much more subtly but poignantly. That the bulge of his cock finds itself perfectly nestled against her ass is not a mistake, nor is the way her bare-feet have pressed themselves against the bottom rung of the stool to better leverage herself against him. 'Do you know what else I like the taste of?" She asks, her head lolling against his shoulder.
Glancing down her torso, one of her hands trickles down the lace and boning of her corset until it rests on the fleeting bit of white silk that separates her sex from the world. Her index finger dips beneath the cloth, as she touches herself she moans softly, her hips curling back against him.
"We trade in favours, darling." The bartender replies. "A favour from you, for a favour from us."
The whore in white removes her finger, shiny and scented with her arousal. Just as she places the pad of her finger against her lower lip, the door behind them opens, and out walks Cian with the Lady of this establishment, Molly herself.
Glancing down her torso, one of her hands trickles down the lace and boning of her corset until it rests on the fleeting bit of white silk that separates her sex from the world. Her index finger dips beneath the cloth, as she touches herself she moans softly, her hips curling back against him.
"We trade in favours, darling." The bartender replies. "A favour from you, for a favour from us."
The whore in white removes her finger, shiny and scented with her arousal. Just as she places the pad of her finger against her lower lip, the door behind them opens, and out walks Cian with the Lady of this establishment, Molly herself.
