Forget the clinic, go to Mexico. Hashtag codependency he's young and hip.
The glow of infatuation lasted a hot minute before she's given a choice: chop his squirrelly hands off or submit to stripping in a bustling parking lot?
"Edward, Jesus..." Her eyes rove around from window to window, from passing cars to the group of smokers collected at the pub's back entrance. And Paloma with her titties half out of her fluffy dress, obscured by Hyde's back, thank God. The door juts uncomfortably into her spine. Without exactly rebuffing or challenging him, she splays her fingers out across his stomach. "Can't you wait until after dinner? We'll be late?"
"I just wanted a taste..." Retracting those hands, he goes in for a kids instead, and repositions his arms around her, one hand finding her hair. "I can't help that you're so beautiful and soft!"
Paloma goes red but she also ponders that statement.
"You even sound high," she remarks too casually for a young lady with one of her boobs on the outside of her dress. The bra didn't leave, luckily. Either she wears lingerie every night or just goes for sheer lace whenever they have a dinner date. More dinner dates required for study.
Over his head, the smokers talk amongst themselves without noticing. Thank you God.
"How's that any different from usual?" He just wants to touch her, is that so bad? "Nah we'll go I gotta shower so you don't think I stink." But he does linger on her bra, feeling the lace between his fingers.
He's the one who said a taste!! Which is what he and Jekyll have both been getting, it's true, thanks to their schedule conflicts. Veronica already gave her Steady Looks on the first day, when Paloma showed up at the hotel with red blemishes all over her neck. No way she hasn't noticed the uptick in scarf ensembles.
Her face warms, glowing. Never mind the stiff nipple that's just what happens. "You like it, though?" Cost pretty pennies.
This is fairly odd behavior from what she understands of his norm, but then those other times he hasn't smoked Something and opened the gates. More odd is the juxtaposition of honesty and a tit in hand.
"U-umm." Her chin tucks to stare at him, blushing dark. Can't very well leave him hanging. "... I'm happy that Henry agreed to us trying this. I just felt bad at the start, but-- you're more than your dick."
"You sure?" He laughs, "I think that's all anyone needs me for." Maybe because that's about all that he makes himself available for.
"I mean, I am pretty proud of it." Haha what, he wasn't being Real and talking about his shortcomings and fears, that's ridiculous, he's awesome in every way! "Harry got his phd last year but I've always had one."
Paloma has only a second to catch on before he's off on another tangent, effectively dragging her into his proud dick joke. Perhaps later she'll pursue the hint he dropped.
She sucks in a disgusted breath. "That means he always had one, too!" One can guess what the 'p' and 'h' before 'd' stands for, even if she hadn't watched that joke on Friends. His draping between her legs is becoming less enticing.
"Don't ruin the joke with technicalities!" Just because they're identical twins??? "With the piercing I'd weigh more, that's gotta count for something right?" He might sound like it but he's not serious about that, he's not so insecure that he needs to have a heavier dick than his twin.
Now she laughs, even though it's more at than with him (a little of that too). As if there's room to make fun when he's gotten her breast out of its holster and the hem of her dress almost up to vag level.
"Ooh, so heavy! I could feel the difference." When they were in two of three holes, she means. Flushing at her own vulgarity, she kisses him swiftly.
"It's like two whole grams more!" A kiss sounds like a good distraction to him too. He doesn't need to point out that she surely can feel the difference with a pierced dick...
The wonders of dick with irregular texture aside, he's very respectfully not teasing her into an exhibitionist backseat fuck and it's high time they left for dinner. Paloma sighs and does the wise thing, very lightly pushing at him.
"... Better move unless you're starting something in the car?" That wasn't supposed to end on a hopeful note!
"...Why, you want to give those guys a show?" He grins, jerking his head toward the smokers. "Should I fuck you from behind and press your tits up against the glass?"
"But you're still interested?" That's what he's getting out of this. "I bet the servants heard last time, wonder what they think, huh?" He nips at her nose, grinning even wider.
Paloma puffs up insomuch as their position allows, looking rather offended, for someone so nasty-minded.
"They think I'm a toy," she blusters, nose wrinkling daintily. Her bare legs shift over the leather interior. Oh, nice... "I really can't afford to let anything get back to my boss-- yeah, I want to!"
"I've had a lot of toys come through. But they don't sit at the dinner table with my brother, stay overnight and come back again." She likes the leather, he likes the lace.
True, all true, their treatment of Paloma is itself tangible evidence; unarguable and comforting. Sleeping in bed together and waking up hazy, late morning... even the sex that followed was intimate beyond the physical.
Recalling how it felt to be caught between them sends a jolt straight to her heart and pussy. His antagonizing her does the same, and she parks one strappy heel against the far door. "The part where you fuck me on glass," she whispers in pure mortification. "From behind, I-I want to try it. Happy?"
"But not here, huh? Maybe at home, there's some nice big windows...." His fingers trail up her leg. "Or the shower? Or is it about some exhibitionism?"
She mutters what sounds like a curse, guiltily. Then:
"Here first."
Paloma may die. Her face tingles from the rush of blood throughout and from his touch, hardly there. She avoids his eyes doggedly and slouches further down the side door.
"Really...? Didn't you just say you didn't want anyone to see? Anyone could leave the pub and walk right by." He might push on with touching her, but only enough to tease, playing at concern and uncertainty. "Are you sure?" But he doesn't want to put her off entirely, so he kisses her neck as he speaks.
She cringes a bit to think of them getting caught at dusk screwing in the backseat, like a couple of drunks... "It's getting dark," she rationalizes tremulously. "We're not in the street, so, if I can keep from anyone recognizing me... us...?"
To persuade him out of tormenting her she plays with her dress hem, bunching and rolling it up by degrees. A hint of matching white lace peeks out between her thighs.
"Well if you're sure!" He still doesn't bite at least, or try to bruise, but he kisses her up and down while his hands move up her thighs, pushing her dress up until they start to feel lace again. "Jekyll will just have to wait."
Someone forgot about being on time for the dinner they'd decided on. Spikes of heat run from her head to her belly, too much anticipation in her to be anything but excited at the inexcusability of it all. She makes it halfway to sitting upright before her hands are urging his zipper open. Her breathing hitches, but she's only just slipped in and grabbed him by the cock.
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The glow of infatuation lasted a hot minute before she's given a choice: chop his squirrelly hands off or submit to stripping in a bustling parking lot?
"Edward, Jesus..." Her eyes rove around from window to window, from passing cars to the group of smokers collected at the pub's back entrance. And Paloma with her titties half out of her fluffy dress, obscured by Hyde's back, thank God. The door juts uncomfortably into her spine. Without exactly rebuffing or challenging him, she splays her fingers out across his stomach. "Can't you wait until after dinner? We'll be late?"
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"You even sound high," she remarks too casually for a young lady with one of her boobs on the outside of her dress. The bra didn't leave, luckily. Either she wears lingerie every night or just goes for sheer lace whenever they have a dinner date. More dinner dates required for study.
Over his head, the smokers talk amongst themselves without noticing. Thank you God.
"Just a little bit and we'll go?"
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Her face warms, glowing. Never mind the stiff nipple that's just what happens. "You like it, though?" Cost pretty pennies.
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"I was kind of just jealous at first, and you were hot, obviously, but I really like you..." Mr high and forthcoming.
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"U-umm." Her chin tucks to stare at him, blushing dark. Can't very well leave him hanging. "... I'm happy that Henry agreed to us trying this. I just felt bad at the start, but-- you're more than your dick."
Uh. "Know what I mean!"
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"I mean, I am pretty proud of it." Haha what, he wasn't being Real and talking about his shortcomings and fears, that's ridiculous, he's awesome in every way! "Harry got his phd last year but I've always had one."
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She sucks in a disgusted breath. "That means he always had one, too!" One can guess what the 'p' and 'h' before 'd' stands for, even if she hadn't watched that joke on Friends. His draping between her legs is becoming less enticing.
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"Ooh, so heavy! I could feel the difference." When they were in two of three holes, she means. Flushing at her own vulgarity, she kisses him swiftly.
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The wonders of dick with irregular texture aside, he's very respectfully not teasing her into an exhibitionist backseat fuck and it's high time they left for dinner. Paloma sighs and does the wise thing, very lightly pushing at him.
"... Better move unless you're starting something in the car?" That wasn't supposed to end on a hopeful note!
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"Heck no, I wouldn't want them to see my face!" Imagine it getting back to her boss somehow. She gulps much-needed air. "But..!!"
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"They think I'm a toy," she blusters, nose wrinkling daintily. Her bare legs shift over the leather interior. Oh, nice... "I really can't afford to let anything get back to my boss-- yeah, I want to!"
Don't make her elaborate. (Make her.)
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"What do you want....?"
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Recalling how it felt to be caught between them sends a jolt straight to her heart and pussy. His antagonizing her does the same, and she parks one strappy heel against the far door. "The part where you fuck me on glass," she whispers in pure mortification. "From behind, I-I want to try it. Happy?"
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"Here first."
Paloma may die. Her face tingles from the rush of blood throughout and from his touch, hardly there. She avoids his eyes doggedly and slouches further down the side door.
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She cringes a bit to think of them getting caught at dusk screwing in the backseat, like a couple of drunks... "It's getting dark," she rationalizes tremulously. "We're not in the street, so, if I can keep from anyone recognizing me... us...?"
To persuade him out of tormenting her she plays with her dress hem, bunching and rolling it up by degrees. A hint of matching white lace peeks out between her thighs.
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Someone forgot about being on time for the dinner they'd decided on. Spikes of heat run from her head to her belly, too much anticipation in her to be anything but excited at the inexcusability of it all. She makes it halfway to sitting upright before her hands are urging his zipper open. Her breathing hitches, but she's only just slipped in and grabbed him by the cock.
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