His sense of humor did not seem to suit her, or perhaps it only didn't suit the mood. So it went, and he would not fault her for it. It was how it tended to go with most people, on those rare occasions they recognized it for what it was. The brief anxiety flitting across her consciousness in no way dampened her overall enthusiasm, which was at least somewhat reassuring. Not that he had very much to worry about. His vanity was hardly in need of repair.
Even if he hadn't had the benefit of his additional senses, that she could not keep her mouth off him for the brief time it took to make it to his bed would have been telling. He kissed her in return to the best of his ability, though she had much less skin in his mouth's reach. She had an unfair advantage – not that he was complaining.
As her fingers tangled in his hair, he gave a faint growl of warning. Jean quite enjoyed a certain amount of rough treatment, but hair-pulling was a touchy subject. His hair did not have the durability that his flesh enjoyed, nor the preturnatural perfection; its loveliness was one he had to work for, and so he guarded it carefully. An instance of beheading had once seen him beside himself, not for what it had done to his neck, but for the fact that they had cut his hair alongside it. He was still rather irritated about it, in point of fact. She was unlikely to pull hard enough to wrench strands from his scalp, but better to be safe.
Being only an empath, and certainly not psychic, he had no way of predicting what she was about to do. It came as some surprise, then, when she flipped him over as easily as he might have done to her. Not being a completely unfamiliar sensation, he handled it as gracefully as he could, no flailing about or unpleasant sounds. He'd been a gymnast, once, though his leg did not allow for it now; some skills were difficult to lose.
"Passerota," he said affectionately, "do try to warn me next time." He laced his fingers behind his head, and may have been posing a bit in the process. As long as she was above him, she may as well have a good view to admire. "I am very old, you will recall, and terribly delicate as a result." He grinned, and rocked his hips beneath her.
Coffee Break [Closed] - Hobo_Bob - 01-30-2015
His lack of reaction to being flipped over the way he had was a little disappointing. not even a yelp or a 'wow' to speak of. Most people would make some sound or another after being turned upside down the way Jean just had.
But then again, he was not like most people.
His landing was very graceful from what she could tell. Almost as if he had planned for her to do just that, and then posed his body under her own. The towel floated about her waist and acted like an open skirt. Covering nothing, but keeping her hair from dripping all over onto the bed.
Rhys game him a cheeky smile and hummed a little at the nick name. "Ohh~...poverino, Signore. I will treat you kindly...." her smile remained, twisting into a sly grin as she lowered her lips to his chest just as he ground his hips upwards into her. A soft, breathless pleased sigh seemed to float from her lips and cut off as soon as they were pressed to his skin.
Just above his chest plate, her lips began to trail along his torso and down to his ribs, her hands slid along his sides, feeling his body and the way he twitched or moved. Taking those signs as a sensitive spot and making sure to pay extra attention to whatever made him react.
Jean was one for attention. Loved to be looked at and praised. To be touched by him like this and still wait to touch him was strange to Rhys. A few rough rolls with her past muses and maybe just one kiss, but this was different. As if she could not help herself. Drawn to whatever he was, and not just for the story and how long she could live off of it. but for much more. And why not?
"A next time, mm~? Si, I remember..." chuckling against his side, Rhys moved up his body a little more to steal away his lips. Delving into the kiss to taste him and enjoy his warmth while she could.
Coffee Break [Closed] - Tindome - 02-19-2015
A hint of disappointment; whatever she had hoped to gain, he apparently had not given it to her. Perhaps to throw him off-balance? He was very bad at that, it was true. Even when it could be feigned, he generally preferred not to. Being surprised was one thing, being alarmed quite another, and the latter did not suit his ego when it came to how he preferred to be seen. Jaded and omniscient, half to a mind-reader, as near to flawless as one could be; alarm simply did not suit.
"Your mercy is appreciated," he purred, appreciative of the feel of her mouth and her hands on his skin. He placed his hands along the thighs straddling him, and fingers rubbed against the back of her knees to test if she was ticklish enough to yelp or to jump.
As with so many things, he enjoyed doing unto others that which he did not like having done to himself.
"Never say, passerota, that you had not thought to do this again," he said with a grin. Then he put on what was for him a melodramatic pout, though the end result looked relatively subtle. "Would you leave me, Signorina, to never have your way with me again? Ah, how sad." She silenced his complaints with her mouth against his, and he hummed with pleasure against her tongue.
Coffee Break [Closed] - Hobo_Bob - 03-02-2015
The moment his fingers touched the back of her knees, she twitched. Suppressing the squeak she knew would echo in the room if her lips were not otherwise preoccupied. But he did not fully stop the sound. It still came out, but only just enough once she sat up, pressing herself down into his cock and her hands wrapped around his wrists. A giggle on her tongue as she savored the feel of him between her legs.
"Hmm-nnm~. Signore..." she tisked quickly and moved her hands from his wrists to his sides, ghosting them over his skin to see if he was ticklish. As he had done to her, she wanted to do the same. "....I am very loud. I alarm your neighbors~....but it thinks is not my laugh that you want, no?"
To accentuate her point, Rhys parted her legs more, bringing herself down atop him to feel the heat he could give her. Thick and hard, her juices made it easy to rub against him and bring herself to moan aloud. Not quite as loud as her squeak of laughter when he tickled her, but enough to tease the senses. "Ahhn~....Signore Jean, I stay till you tell me to go. And I like when your way is with me."
It was always something that appealed to Rhys. To make someone want her, to say they craved her. But to feel wanted, at least in this moment and - hopefully - many more to come, was exciting. To give into his needs was all that Rhys was thinking about. And how he would taste dipped in chocolate...
Coffee Break [Closed] - Tindome - 05-04-2015
She tried to suppress her involuntarily giggle, and did not quite succeed; it amused him more than it perhaps ought to have. He grinned, both at her response and at how she felt pressed on top of him. His grin grew wider as she attempted to do to him what he had done to her - but alas for her, he was not in that moment susceptible to that particular variety of involuntary response.
Rare that he was, in fact. Not impossible, but very rare. Perhaps fortunate that it was, since it had only ever annoyed him when it occurred.
Jean did not move his hands, though she had released his wrists, feeling it more sporting to keep them where she had seemed to want them pinned. Pretending to be helpless was not a new game. "Neighbors who complain about the sound of screams," he told her, "do not generally last very long." Under other circumstances, that might have sounded like a threat. Maybe it still did.
"I do so love to hear you laugh, Signorina," he mused. "But it would take quite a laugh to satisfy me, I fear, and I do not think I am that amusing -- try though I might." He rocked his hips as she moved against him, though he was careful not to overstep the bounds she had set.
"I am far more likely to tell you to come than to go, passerota," he said, "but for now we can take turns, oui? Your way this time, and mine the next." That there would be a next time, so long as she stayed, was not in question. He could taste the desire in her, for his body and all that he could do for her own. And that other, subtler desire, not quite so carnal, the very particular desire to be desirous. He could hardly fault her for that, when he reveled as he did in the desire and regard of others. "Ah, but you torment me so, Signorina. I may not be so patient when it is my turn."
Coffee Break [Closed] - Hobo_Bob - 05-28-2015
Something about the grin he had after she made her suppressed giggle told her that he was pleased with himself for being the cause. How very unbecoming, one would think, to be in the throng of passions and his touch tickle enough to bring laughter. It would be nearly enough to stop her from continuing. Nearly, but not quite.
"Ahh~....so signore likes to force his neighbors away." quickly, she tisked a few times and shook her head as if she was disappointed with him. "Now now, il mio Drago, is not kind." even as she said that, her hands once more free from holding him down - knowing it was ineffective in the long run - slid from his body and settled on either side of his head so as she leaned forward over him, Rhys could lift herself away from the towel. And his cock, just as he thrust up against her.
She couldn't help her smirk. Muchless the giggle from the way she felt the cold air tickle her skin seeing as she was separated from him and his heat.
Looming over his body, she simply looked at him.
Skimming her eyes from the his hair line and the follicles of each hair. To his eye brows and lashes. Same shade. His nose and lips, cheek bones and jaw line. All a contributing factor to his near plastic perfection. And yet he was not. A part of Rhys was jealous that he was naturally this good looking, whatever he was. "Oh no no no, il mio Drago. You do make me laugh, but I do not let it out since you are...as you say...delicate."
Repeating his words once more to him as to his 'condition' Rhys gently pressed her lips to the left corner of his and whispered, " Ma...my laugh, signore....is perhaps not apropos right now....no?"
Ghosting over his cheek - the heat of her body acting as the only thing to caress him - she moved lower to the side of his head and took his ear lobe into her mouth. Nothing more touched him but her teeth that nibbled, lips that sucked and tongue that lapped.
Coffee Break [Closed] - Tindome - 06-07-2015
Jean's grin did not abate, as sharp as it ever was. "I have never claimed to be kind, passerota," he reminded her. "I am a very bad man, you will recall." In truth, he had never met his most recent neighbors. He was fairly certain that at least one home had been inherited by someone with no intention of living there. There were people in the other, sometimes, but no one particularly interesting. His bedroom was well-insulated, besides; he had considered it an important part of its construction.
Screams could only barely be heard in the shop, even if they were particularly loud, as long as his bedroom door was shut.
Her hips moved away from his on an upward thrust, enough that his cock was no longer inside her, only barely touching her skin instead. Perhaps he should not have been surprised, when he'd given her satisfaction already, that she was in no hurry to achieve it again. When she was in control, it seemed her preference was to take it slow -- slow and long and languorous, for so long as she could bear it.
It was nonetheless not exactly torturous to have a beautiful woman on top of him, admiring his appearance. He did so adore to be admired, after all, as much a pleasure as many other things. So long as she was enjoying herself, her pleasure continued to be honey on his tongue, if not quite so thick as it might otherwise have been.
"How gracious of you," he said, "to be considerate of my delicate nature." He fluttered his eyelashes playfully for the briefest of moments, before returning to his well-practiced dignity. "Mais, Signorina," he said, "I hear the laughter in your heart, even if it does not leave your throat. My ears are as sharp as the rest of me, you see." Not quite accurate, since he would sense her amusement as he absorbed it, but that did not quite suit the current metaphor so well. Even he was not so wicked as to bring mixed metaphors into the bedroom.
"You are right, of course," he said, because he would always tell her she was right if only for the sake of ease. There were circumstances when he might correct a lover, but these were not they. "This is a very serious situation," he said, though he was pretending to be pinned to the bed by a smaller woman while possessed of a neglected erection. "We must give it the dignity it deserves, oui?" He practically purred as her teeth ghosted over his skin, his hands still kept to himself until such a time as she requested his touch.