ay_my_lord

*blushes, suddenly self-conscious* Oh -- sorry --

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*nuzzles him* Don't be sorry. It's nice when you touch me. ^__^

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But I'd never stop touching you, if you didn't say anything. *blushing deeper* ... You really are beautiful like an angel. Beautiful and good, and ... when you arch your back, sometimes ... sometimes I'm surprised you don't have wings.

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I wouldn't mind if you never stopped touching me ... *looks up at him, eyes bright with wonder, and traces his jaw with shaking fingers* But if I'm an angel, you must be some kind of god ... and I'm not really a proper Christian anymore, I couldn't be, because I feel like I should worship you; you're beautiful like one of the old Roman gods ... *silly* except not Roman.

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*laughs, brushing lips against a finger, taking it for a moment between them, tongue sweetlytenderly twirling to touch it* ... I'm not strong enough to be a god ...

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*closes his eyes at the intimacy of it, gently sliding his fingertip along Rey's lower lip* And I'm not pure enough to be an angel ... so can I just be yours instead?

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*shudders, pressing close and with his whole body* If I'm yours.

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If you want to be. *drawing them together, arms about Rey's waist and lips pressing a kiss to his neck* I want us to be ...

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*arching up and into him, hands falling to roam again at his hips* ... Oh ...

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*soft, letting his hands wander as well to brush along Rey's back* Are we making love again?

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*making a soft, whimpering sound, echoing* If you want us to be ...

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*a kiss beneath his chin* You said we would both decide the next thing ...

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Oh ... *all but writhing, pressing legs and hips together ...* Yes ... please, yes ...

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Yes-- *and kisses him deep, slow--lets them fade mythological to black--*

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*lovely! ... sorry about that ^^;*

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*the typist is slightly sorry about this, too, although she has vastly more reason--but the next day, at work, Olga will look up at Rey by the coffee machines, appraising him and a few marks at his neck with the cold expression that a best friend always wears with a friend's ex* So I guess you seduced some poor girl after I left, huh?

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*goes flush at that -- he does not for the life of him understand why Olga always assumes the worst of him, and also, should probably invest in shirts with higher collars* I ... sorry?

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Don't play stupid, okay? *hands on her hips* I can tell you made out with someone, and you know, 'sorry' totally doesn't cut it.

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*squeaks as he realizes that yes, he does need higher collars, trying frantically to hide neck* Oh ... I didn't ... *squeak* Sorry! I didn't know it was so ...

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*against her usual inclinations, bemused* What, you think if you hide it now, I'm not going to remember? *voice hard* Look, I don't want to see any other girls getting hurt by you, so why don't you just tell me who it was, mmmkay?

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No, it's just ... if anyone else sees, what'll they think ... ? I didn't know it ... *blushes, helpless -- he's never intended to hurt anyone* ... Should we really be talking about this here ... ?

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*he probably hasn't, but he dates the sort of girls who'd go to their best friends with sob stories after they had cruelly broken a fellow's heart--and Olga isn't aware of this* A name isn't a sex story, right? Just give me a name.

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