"Oh, I see, I hope the hours won't be changing permanently?" His voice stays too high, it can't go down with her fingers on him. His dick also can't go down like this. But he's going to have to get up. Thank god it's dark at least?
He shows considerable composure given the scant inches her mouth was from his ear, the amused rasp of her voice, and the proximity of his hot face to tit. Worse, she hasn't backed up enough to let him up. Does she even want him to be?
"... I hope they won't change, too, but are you ready to leave?"
"I suppose I'll have to be, I haven't much choice if it's closing." Pulling his books together should help him take his mind off it all, right? How close things are to being lewd. How much he wants it to be.
But if he could just push his chair out to get away from it, that would help all the more.
Yeah, sounds rough. Nobody with his best interests in mind would have their hip inconveniently in the way of...
"Ow," Paloma says out of surprise when the chair hits bone, not experiencing an iota of actual pain. She gives him room then, certainly. "I'm not rushed!"
"Oh no-- I'm sorry!! I didn't think you were that close, it's so dark!" This means scrambling to apologise and instinctively clapping his hand over her hip as if it happened to him.
Mercifully he finds the part of her body he's aiming for and not anything significantly more alarming.
What did he expect from the feel of her? This plush velvet under a skirt so thin it's two washes from being transparent? She goes still but for holding onto his collar, to balance as she gazes into the space between their lower halves.
"Oh. Oh, yes, it's dark," she offers absently, but her eyes are on the full-blown erection tenting his pants. His body heat sinks into her cooler skin. She sidles a centimeter to the right so that her thigh brushes past the... issue.
When he realises that you don't normally put a hand on someone else's hip when they've bumped into something, he pulls his hands back to himself to grope about for his glasses. Especially in feeling her thigh-- yes, better turn that little issue away, back toward the table. Concentrate on making it go down
She wants to flatter herself and hope that the effect she has on him isn't solely due to Kindred magnetism and charisma. Maybe his nerves and desire have nothing to do with a prey's helpless fascination. Maybe what he's seen of her is sufficient to feel as he does.
His panicked movement shakes her hand off of his collar to situate over his elbow instead. Paloma finds his glasses in a second, pressing them to his palm.
"We're the last ones. To leave, you know." Her eyes are large, but more importantly they are a bit desperate themselves.
It does seem that no one's around if it's so dark... It's been that way a few times now, and it always makes him nervous. Especially since they've been spending time together. Each time it becomes more dangerous.
"Ahh, is that so..." SILENT SCREECHING why is she bringing it up, what's her intent! Is she calling attention to it for a reason? And if she is...should he really do anything about it?
He puts his glasses back on and turns his head to look at her properly, if not his body, looking for anything that could shed light on the situation. "Do you need a hand with any of the closing up, then?"
"Actually," Paloma begins, running a finger demurely over a crease in his sleeve, "yes. But I don't want to impose." Her mind trips over itself frantically rifling through closing tasks that may have gone unattended, or even anything extra he could stay longer for. Some excuse to keep him. "The, umm, bathroom. Loo. It... "
He's too wonderfully helpful without stopping to wonder about her motives or second-guessing anything about the request. Paloma checks the bathrooms on her lonesome every shift, so why would she need him now?
"Please nevermind what I just said. I wanted to delay you leaving." The confession is quick, like the horrified grin running lightning fast across her face.
It shocks him so much that it makes him laugh, because he doesn't know how else to react. Of course he knows what that implies, she wants to keep him around, for whatever reason, but at the base of it, it means she's fond of him. More than a little if she can't simply ask him to stay a while longer.
"I certainly won't leave without waiting to take you to your car...still, you need only say so. I'll stay gladly..."
Her hand travels past his sleeve to give his forearm an anxious pat-pat, and it's for the best if he hasn't turned back to Paloma. For impulse control and for his hardness. Probably.
She presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth to prevent another confession from tumbling out. "Then we can-- stay. Off the record."
Paloma looks imploringly up at him and realizes subtlety won't do them any favors, but isn't brazen enough to demand a kiss. No, she has an altogether different nastiness, as he discovers when she slides forward and into his rod. All it takes is a dainty step and paradoxically wistful smile, showing more in the crinkling of her eyes than her mouth.
"What can you think of?" she whispers, even if they are utterly alone in the dark.
Oh, shit, she's noticed his shamefulness. He flushes for that embarrassment, panicking until he sees the curl if her smile. ...It seems like maybe she doesn't mind.
Men have never asked permission to touch her. It's refreshing, and on account of his dropping the obliviousness, she rewards him for good behavior. Her hands travel up from his torso to cradle the base of his skull and guide him down, down to her lips and the damp. Breathing out crushes her belly against that bulge.
She makes it worse! Taking the initiative is all the more thrilling. Her lips are something he's imagined many times, they just look so inviting. And his imagination isn't betrayed a bit, and better still. His hands find purchase on her hips to pull her in close, and very quickly it turns from one simple kiss to desperation.
It has been so long-- ages since her last. Last affair, last kiss.
This encounter is a study in inevitability and she the eager student. Him, too. His tongue's inside her mouth within the next minute and one of Paloma's hands is showing one of his the sweet spot for grabbing her ass; throughout the empty shelves and assorted desks only his breathing can be heard. Oddly, the rustle of her skirt sliding up her thigh sounds off louder than her happy sighs.
She shouldn't have introduced his hand to her ass, it's dangerous giving him what he wants so badly! "Miss Vasquez--" he doesn't even remember to use her given name. And something about addressing her properly makes it dirtier. She's staff, not a professor, but even so...
But he doesn't know what he wants to say anyway so it's fine.
This is about to get either better or worse for Jekyll. "Yes?" she murmurs, lips parted and her pupils a fat ravenous black. Noisy. His breath, his blood, the beat of his fool heart. A story she's been inside before.
A tug pulls her skirt from beneath his warm palm, letting him grab onto bare flesh except for the line of her panties digging in. A slight shift pushes her ass out and grinds onto his dick. "Yes?"
He answers with a whimper, too weenie to moan, it's close enough. "I, um, I think you're very attractive!" As if she doesn't notice his thoughts on that with his dick pressed against her.
"Not only physically, I mean!" An important addition.
If she wants, she could help him out of that gosh-darned prison and tug to completion. Paloma hasn't ruled out the idea. Something to think about while his dick is just a hot thing pressing into her navel.
"And I think you're the sweetest boy who's set foot in here," she says, a bit raggedly. "Touch me. Please." While he's cupping a buttock.
"Absolutely...!" He could touch a whole lot more. And if she's going to make it sound like doing her a favour, then how can he say no? His hand moves from her ass down her thigh and back up under her skirt. The other finds its way up her hip toward her chest.
The implications of being only a boy should be left alone...
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"Shall I walk you to the car?"
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"... I hope they won't change, too, but are you ready to leave?"
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But if he could just push his chair out to get away from it, that would help all the more.
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"Ow," Paloma says out of surprise when the chair hits bone, not experiencing an iota of actual pain. She gives him room then, certainly. "I'm not rushed!"
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What did he expect from the feel of her? This plush velvet under a skirt so thin it's two washes from being transparent? She goes still but for holding onto his collar, to balance as she gazes into the space between their lower halves.
"Oh. Oh, yes, it's dark," she offers absently, but her eyes are on the full-blown erection tenting his pants. His body heat sinks into her cooler skin. She sidles a centimeter to the right so that her thigh brushes past the... issue.
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When he realises that you don't normally put a hand on someone else's hip when they've bumped into something, he pulls his hands back to himself to grope about for his glasses. Especially in feeling her thigh-- yes, better turn that little issue away, back toward the table. Concentrate on making it go down
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His panicked movement shakes her hand off of his collar to situate over his elbow instead. Paloma finds his glasses in a second, pressing them to his palm.
"We're the last ones. To leave, you know." Her eyes are large, but more importantly they are a bit desperate themselves.
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"Ahh, is that so..." SILENT SCREECHING why is she bringing it up, what's her intent! Is she calling attention to it for a reason? And if she is...should he really do anything about it?
He puts his glasses back on and turns his head to look at her properly, if not his body, looking for anything that could shed light on the situation. "Do you need a hand with any of the closing up, then?"
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Ah.
"Actually," Paloma begins, running a finger demurely over a crease in his sleeve, "yes. But I don't want to impose." Her mind trips over itself frantically rifling through closing tasks that may have gone unattended, or even anything extra he could stay longer for. Some excuse to keep him. "The, umm, bathroom. Loo. It... "
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"Does the men's need a check?" He could understand her hesitance to go in the men's room!
"I'll take care of it." She earns a little smile.
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He's too wonderfully helpful without stopping to wonder about her motives or second-guessing anything about the request. Paloma checks the bathrooms on her lonesome every shift, so why would she need him now?
"Please nevermind what I just said. I wanted to delay you leaving." The confession is quick, like the horrified grin running lightning fast across her face.
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"I certainly won't leave without waiting to take you to your car...still, you need only say so. I'll stay gladly..."
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She presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth to prevent another confession from tumbling out. "Then we can-- stay. Off the record."
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"Why would we stay here...?" Like, it's dark, it's a library. If they're going to spend time together surely there's somewhere better?
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"What can you think of?" she whispers, even if they are utterly alone in the dark.
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"...May I kiss you?" Still too much to presume.
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Men have never asked permission to touch her. It's refreshing, and on account of his dropping the obliviousness, she rewards him for good behavior. Her hands travel up from his torso to cradle the base of his skull and guide him down, down to her lips and the damp. Breathing out crushes her belly against that bulge.
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This encounter is a study in inevitability and she the eager student. Him, too. His tongue's inside her mouth within the next minute and one of Paloma's hands is showing one of his the sweet spot for grabbing her ass; throughout the empty shelves and assorted desks only his breathing can be heard. Oddly, the rustle of her skirt sliding up her thigh sounds off louder than her happy sighs.
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But he doesn't know what he wants to say anyway so it's fine.
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A tug pulls her skirt from beneath his warm palm, letting him grab onto bare flesh except for the line of her panties digging in. A slight shift pushes her ass out and grinds onto his dick. "Yes?"
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"Not only physically, I mean!" An important addition.
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"And I think you're the sweetest boy who's set foot in here," she says, a bit raggedly. "Touch me. Please." While he's cupping a buttock.
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The implications of being only a boy should be left alone...
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