Jump to content

JOIN OUR GAME!

Your Stories Await Telling

A not so secret Tryst | 25th after the ball- Xmas 1677


Recommended Posts

All so warm, and so immediate, she was trapped beneath him - quite marvelously so! "Dont tell me you had to be auditioned for his service too?" Nicci teased, though her heart was hardly in it, as her breath caught as his touch slid past that most lovely place. That place that sent the most wonderful sensations, possessing her mind and making her want to...

 

She lifted her leg to rub it along his thigh, exposing herself, her fingers tightening upon his deltoid as his finger dipped into her slippery heat. "Linger a little more." oh she did like that, when his finger came up and grazed again. Yes it was like what the Duke had done. But different, for his entire body was just there and quite naked, and his penis wanted her. And, she would receive it. .

 

"Like a lover." she repeated as the penny dropped to what he'd meant earlier. Her free hand slid down his back, feeling his muscles shifting and move, down to slide over his rump. "Yes it is all pleasure." she was slowly coming to grasp, finally dawning upon her that the show was the final act. Meanwhile her body moved upon an instinct, rocking upon his hand, wanting that rush of joy again.

 

"Do not stop Lord Kingston, do not stop." she artlessly articulated (more likely meaning she wanted his hands pace to quicken.) Her fingers tightened harder again on his arm, and those on his rump joined in. Francis though, was flirting with his cock, pressing against her like that. Hand, shaft, her needful clit did not discriminate, and she tilted to better feel it's rub.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Francis enjoyed the writhing of her body underneath him, a pleasure mounting between them just from the friction of skin and wafting of want. It was a piquant and sweet smell, one most men could bathe in for the enjoyment of it.

 

When her pleas hit his ears, he knew she was as ready as she would be. The need would dull the pain in his mind. His lips sought out hers again, kissing her without the restraint he was exhibiting with the rest of his body.

 

Without a word to give her anxiety, instead of rubbing his length back up her, he pushed the head of his cock passed her swollen lips and the first bit of him was inside of her vice-like grip. His thrust was less a thrust to rip her apart and more an insistent push into a too-tight space.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Craving the sensations that his Master had given her, was surprised by what seemed a misplacement of his penis too low. And then a push. Her eyes flared, this must be that. And Nicolette gasped at the strained and uncomfortable feeling. At that moment her body instinctively clenched around, resisting the intruder, foiled only by the slickness of her passage.

 

Fretful eyes met his, the wild thought went through her mind to ask him to stop. "Oh, I love it already." she fibbed and eyes watered, but then no more. He paused there. Or. Or was it done?

 

The new sensations confused her, and it seemed like he was fitting better now, as she became accustomed. She looked at the man, her shoulders slumping back upon the bed, she met Francis eyes and smiled. His penis was in her. She was happy, proud of herself, and her hands reaching to cup his face, while those lovely and needful feelings rolled up and over her body again.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The grip of her nearly made him lose control. Tight in a way he had not particularly imagined, even as her body seemed to squeeze even more with surprise. He let out a grunt, eyes closed tightly. She professed her love for it, and he did not need to see her tears to hear them. The deed of it was finished quickly as he hit bottom.

 

"If you love that, then you shall soon be rapturous."

 

His eyes opened and he saw her smile, easily smiling back at her. Clearly he knew her words were a fib. His muscles were somewhat clenched with his restraint as he let her grow accustomed to him (and he to her).

 

She cupped his face, and he obligingly kissed her, meeting her needy gyrations by rubbing against her some before he pulled most of the way out. A rumble escaped him as he sank back in, his body sliding against hers. He channeled his energy into a slow but insistent pace as he stretched her.

 

"Rub against me as a thrust in," he whispered, wishing her to get as much pleasure of it as possible. It would not take much for her to figure out. Of that he was quite sure.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Oh dear, there was worse to come. "Then I'll be sent to Heaven!" she fibbed still, his own words a forbode. Never the less she wanted this, wanted to be rid of this restriction, wanted to break free of her bounds.

 

"No one shall call me a cathrinette." she whispered, glassy eyed, struggling against her bodies resistance to the intrusion that she wanted so much. Kissing Francis, she was at least certain he'd never call her that. He was far too sensitive, miraculously so really. Her lips were tender against his, while some great force seemed to possess his body. He was iron. Her hands slid up into his hair, he was a golden angel. She knew her fortune great.

 

Foreheads touched, eyes still watering she nodded, keenly aware of the heat of their sex and instinctively responding. Dark curls pressed up towards blonde, and though she willed those unschooled muscles of her sex to slacken upon him, the magnitude of it all left much out of her control, her eyes locked upon his pleadingly.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Never," he purred deeply, although he was not wholly sure what he was never-ing.

 

In the moment Francis could not remember if he had decided it was best not to draw it out their love-making or best to draw it out. Lost in sensations of a tightness he had never experienced before, he quested onward, kissing her fervently.

 

As she arched toward him, he did his best to provide the needed friction. He was starting to sweat just enough for it to shine on his skin and for a few clumps of blond hair to stick to his face.

 

He never remembered to tie his hair beforehand, but he oft regretted it during. It was hot on his head and neck, and unlike a periwig, he could not throw it off whenever.

 

"Do tell me there is some pleasure," he whispered in between breaths and thrusts. He smiled, "I shall not trouble you much longer," he teased, drawing in an earlobe and giving it a nip, not missing a beat. "Not on your premiere at least."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

It was more uncomfortable than she'd have liked; but the animalistic fascination of it all, the sound of his grunts, the weight of his body (and the marvel that it did not seem so heavy really), and the fervor of his kisses.

 

Her head was spinning spinning of it all. Her arms clasping around his shoulders, legs who knew where, and a pulsing within, tearing tearing, till bursting through it suddenly felt different. "Those silly tears were still sliding down her cheeks, as she kissed him again. "Pleasure. Yes exquisite. Lord Kingston, I am so happy..." she was half weeping, half crooning, emotion ravaged and suddenly very possessive of the man, suddenly wanting to make a silly declaration of adoration of him.

 

Pushing back his hair she looked into his face, imprinting him into her mind.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Her words were reassuring even if he suspected they were somewhat strained. At least they let him escape any feelings of guilt and he moved against her. He kissed at a salty tear and then turned to her lips to press a kiss there before he took in a great breath of air.

 

"It will grow more exquisite yet," he breathed between gentle thrusts as her body adjusted to his size. "With time."

 

"And I think Kingston...or Francis...will do when we are alone," he whispered in her ear. "As you please."

 

He let out a pleasured purr and said, "You are so very beautiful."

 

After a few minutes he was not able to continue to be as gentle as he had started, speeding up, his moves taking on more necessity even as he rubbed wickedly against her. Thought he might not finish her, he at least hoped it would end with more pleasure and less pain for her, enough that she would be coming back for more.

 

His spare hand gripped at her thigh, raising her a bit more up to him. He abandoned her lips for her neck so that he could get more air.

 

The rumblings grew until his breathing was more labored. A few great thrusts and he exploded within her with a great groan of satisfaction that dissolved into a pleasured chuckle ever briefly before he opened his eyes and gasped in air. He smiled and then let his lips fall to soft spot beside her ear.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

She tried to like it. There was part of it she liked, but other parts, was so raw, and there was a tumble of emotions confusing her. She wanted this, really, wanted a chance to make something with her life, and this was a way forwards, and it was not hard, and might be fun once she figured it out a bit more. Francis panted above her, like he was running a race.

 

He hitched up her leg, and the girl squealed, twisting away, it was too much. She buried her face into his hair so she could not see the tears... clinging onto him, and then he was shuddering, something was different. His muscled bunched and released. What was happening? Was this the end...

 

She was all too confused still, after all the reading, the practicality was something completely different. She knew she was meant to feel euphoria though, that much had been on every page. "Oh Lord Kings... I mean, Francis, that was incredible." She panted too, but she did not feel the euphoria? Perhaps there was something wrong with her. "Thank you." she hugged him so glad it was finally done.

 

This thing she'd kept, was spent. For better or for worse. But given to Francis, who was as good a man as any man she'd have ever wanted to marry. Not that she was thinking of marriage just now. But instead she clung a hold of him, pressing her face against his, squeezing her eyes tightly closed. It was done.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

If he had not been able to see her tears, he surely felt them once he had come down from the experience. Sighing into her against him softly, he rolled over, taking her with him and leaving her laying on him.

 

"If you think to thank me, I shall have to think to apologize to you," he said to her with a gentle smile.

 

"Instead I shall promise that I shan't make you cry again." His hands rubbed at her back and down her curves. "Pleasure only from here. I cannot imagine what it is for a woman." With his other hand, he curled a finger around a tendril of her hair.

 

"I shall have you crying out in rapture, and then you shall do the same with His Majesty."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"You can call me Nicci." she belatedly offered, as the world slid back down into terms of the understandable, as she came to appreciate that she was laid in an embrace having completed this deed of over exaggerated importance. Even now she was beginning to forget any hurt. His voice was kind and soft.

 

"I only accept apologies on Fridays." she jested, discovering a elemental joy with the sweep of his hands down her side. She had half expected him to be up and dressing to leave (although this was his room so why would he do that), but he lingered in this intimate moment. "So we might as well continue a while yet. Ah, but, maybe tomorrow?"

 

She moved her hand up and over his brow again, "Francis. Francis?" and tried out his name, bending to place a kiss on his forehead. "The doing it is so different to reading about it, I want to be more of adventure. The stories. The games, this is what a gentlmen wants yes?" she looked at him, feeling like she could see him differently now that this thing was done. "Do you have favorite stories you like to play?"

 

Relaxing. Something trickled from within, she pretended not to notice, hoped it was not wee.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Francis had been kept away from women by the sea, so he still appreciated the novelty of a woman's softness. Who would wish to rush out of bed into the cold when one could have such a warm, sensuous body on top of him? Not Francis.

 

"By Friday it will not even be a thought," he returned, with a cheeky grin.

 

"Tomorrow? The Lord shall not be very pleased with that," he joked, for the next day was Sunday.

 

"Let things mend to be less sore, I think. Then I shall worry less, and we can adventure more. Tuesday night? Wednesday night after Lady Kendishall's party?" Running his hands down her sides and leaning his head up to kiss her lips, he said, "Both."

 

Smiling he added, "Every gentleman is different, just as every lady is. I have my likes just as anyone." His smiled cryptically; perhaps she would discover some.

 

If there was anything off about their mixed fluids and perhaps blood, Francis made no hurried movements of disgust. Instead, he finished that bit of their conversation and then reached a long arm to take up some linen cloths. "Let us clean up some." He seemed in no rush to kick her out of his bed or the duke's house.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

He seemed different, or was it she who was different? Or perhaps they were the same, but nervousness was gone? She felt so very relaxed now, being like this, felt so very admiring of the man. "... well now I am resolved to reminding you." she tried fake a pout, but her grin at his tease spoilt it.

 

"Francis, Francis..." she did like saying his name, it felt like love to her, she let herself love saying it. Love did not need to be exclusive, there was no harm in this fine feeling she felt. 'Who are you named after?" eyes slid closed as he stroked her skin, and she was content to remember something he'd whispered to her. Something that had been lost in the moment, but was now treasured.

 

"Both. Lets be greedy." she grinned and looked into his face again, measuring if he was only teasing her, or serious of it. He tilted for a kiss, and with flare of eyes she claimed it. She did not mean it to show, but she wanted him in a slightly possessive way (that she imagined she ought not reveal).

 

"Then I shall probably have likes too." she carried his thought along. "I think laying here like this might be one of mine." she turned her head alongside his, and slid her hand across his opposing shoulder. "So close as this, it doesn't even seem like we are naked, but instead we are dressed with each others bodies. I am your robe, and you my... ah no, not clothing, you are my divan."

 

What were his likes? She could guess it was for her to discover them, and she understood that he would afford her that opportunity. With nod she then slid to the side, and laid still as he attended. She supposed that was how it was, yet gave a slightly embarrassed smile of it. "And for you?" righting herself she held out her hand for the rag, with thought to wipe around his relaxed penis. Quietly done.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

He smiled lazily, lost in that beautiful, post-orgasm haze. Sated and fulfilled. Not to mention rather happy. Sex did that for a man.

 

"Mm, what a question," he hummed. "As many were who were born during the end of our great war, I was named for a family member who was killed, the duke's younger brother actually, and I was born in France so Francis very apropos." He sighed, "We already had a Charles for the King, a George after the first Duke, and a William after my grandfather. Buckingham's brother was named for his grandfather, I am told, so I suppose I am named for the very late Francis, Earl of Rutland."

 

It was ironically fitting, for the long gone Rutland had been very fond of ships, but the real significance was in being named with the thoughts of the most recent Francis who held the name.

 

"Both it is. Come late and we shall learn what it is like to keep time with the owls and antipodes. Such are the hours of court lovers, and you have much tutelage to receive to be ready for your coup de cœur et corps of His Majesty." He gave her a saucy wink as he looked up at her.

 

"It is well that you like it. The King rather fancies a lady on top as well." His chuckle was bright, lively in a boyish way that matched his tenor voice and delicate looks, despite what he had done to masculinely mask that delicacy in his carriage.

 

While Francis had nearly no experience with virgins, he was no stranger to blood or other fluids. He made gentle work of cleaning her up and handed her a clean linen to do the same for him.

 

"None shall be as close to you but the King, and our cousins, of course," he whispered with a content smile. "That is very important...especially at the start." No royal ever wished to play second fiddle or have their things passed about. "You are so bright and alluring," he complimented, his voice drowning a bit into drowsiness as he continued, "people shall wish to get close to you or, if they are already, to take advantage of your newfound position as Lady of Misrule...and who knows what your position might be from there."

 

If this delicate dance worked to her favor, she could wind up better than simply in the King's bed.

 

"I do not wish you to get hurt. You must take care of your attentions, flirtation is a calling card but does not mean you need be home for a visit," he said, managing another light chuckle at the end.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

In her first experiance with a man in such a relaxed and accommodating state, Nicolette found she loved this warm aftermath - why even if she did not come to find the fabled euphoria herself, sex was worth it just to experiance this.

 

Her own voice was soft and low in response. "Then you are thrice Francis..." she smiled, enjoying the story behind his name. "But where in France were you born? Probably not in Normandie. Mmm... even with the way the English people do not like 'French', there is still much shared between us isn't there? I like that the Duke is not shy to show his love of styles from France. Like his dancing. La, he could have shared a dance master with Le Roi even."

 

Upon his wink, she bent to kiss his lips. "There, it is sealed." her eyes danced of the prospect of night upon night of dalliances planned. Though he, nor she, could forget the reason for it - and upon Francis' chuckled revelation she righted some, pushing herself back with hands on his shoulders, "Who rules in the bedroom of the King?" she giggled some then too, it was a surprise revelation, but might explain more why a novice was less than desired by the King.

 

Tending to their housekeeping, Nicolette discovered some amusement in the actions. And what with Francis being so frank, she admitted as much out aloud, "How can gentlmen be scandalised by an ankle after this!" As she was poised there, splayed and he dabbing with his cloth. She probably should have been abashed, but she was oddly blaze about it.

 

Before she next took her turn with a cloth, his penis seemed so harmless in that state. "It is an incredible sort of transformation..." her eyes lifted from her task questioningly, inviting, if he wished, his comment.

 

He was a Duke's man through and through, as he now slid to sober matters. The plots within which they moved required as much, indeed, savored the intrigue. Nicolette rather loved the conspiracies of it all too, although the news given was not all that she'd first thought. She nodded her head in understanding, mentally adjusting her thoughts. Back when they had first spoken last summer, she thought he'd advocated throwing her net wide - but this was very different.

 

Sliding back down to lay with him Nicolette was silent a little while. "I am become His Graces asset, and it is respect that I do not let others... use me. This is part of, how I come to have his protection." Like how she'd been allowed his ring, to become the Lady of Misrule. After the initial surprise of it, she felt better for this. Valuable.

 

Her hand slid around his torso and embraced with quieter thoughts then. In the days to come she would start to look at invites or gestures of friendship rather differently. Cynicism would grow. Closing her eyes she pressed her face to him, and murmured, "It has been a wonderful night."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Somewhere about Paris, I assume. I had never asked. We were forced to move frequently in exile," he explained.

 

Where he had been born, aside from in France, had never been particularly important to him. He had always seen himself as an Englishman.

 

"The Duke would enjoy such a comparison. I wager he has danced with Le Roi, but you would have to ask him." Francis did not seem too jealous of a man. Some might be prickled to talk of another in bed.

 

"His Majesty is master everywhere, but he enjoys a lady who can take charge. It is very taxing, sometimes, to be King," Francis replied in his typical gentle kindness. He likely seemed quite fond of his royal master, which he was. "We are all servants in some way or another, no matter what the King asks of us. When His Majesty leaves Whitehall in disguise, it is our duty to treat him as a simple gentleman, as a common man even, but he is no less King."

 

The King's personal tastes and the hidden parts of his royal life were more than just what the stories became that were whispered about at court.

 

Francis chuckled, "It is not the gentlemen that are scandalized by an ankle, but legs are a part not oft seen by a man unless bedding a woman, so it is quite scandalizing for a woman to tantalize a man with so sexual a gesture. That is what is so meaningful of an ankle." He grinned. It was the hint and tease and promise of more that was so arousing, like an invitation to bed.

 

"Is it? I suppose it is. One moment, like bone, the next like flesh. Quite the work of our creator." He grinned in amusement, looking down toward his flaccid cock. If she paid it too much attention it would not take much to prove bone again!

 

"An asset? An asset is too much a thing. Non, une amie," the blond assured her. "His Grace is good to his friends and an enemy with a long and cruel memory to those who attempt to do him, or his friends, harm." The Duke might refer to alliances, but he spoke of 'friends.' For what he expected was unerring friendship and loyalty in return. Alliances, like assets, were bought and sold with the movement of the tide. The Duke was not as interested in momentary things, those had their use but not for this sort of game. He had heard enough of the Duke's choice in terminology and philosophy during Buckingham's pontificating. Clearly, Buckingham's lessons were useful too, that he remembered such distinctions!

 

"You shall have his protection as long as you are his loyal friend, and my protection, meager as it is in comparison."

 

"It has," he agreed. "You had quite the successful evening at the ball and then now." Francis had yet to learn the part Buckingham had played in her ring and new title. "You can stay, if you wish, or I can send a servant down the street to have them fetch one of His Grace's nondescript coaches so you can return home semi-covertly." Either way she could stay snuggled for as long as she wished, Francis seemed quite comfortable.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Did it feel like an adventure for a little boy?" She asked, hearing of his constant moving during Exile. She'd never thought much about the situation of the English nobles that hid in Europe before. It was enjoyable to talk like this, learning more about the man, while laying this close. Her fingers slid up over his chest, "... did it give you a thirst for adventure perhaps?" Nicci mused.

 

She felt a silent pleasure at her good guess about Buckingham. She thought learning more of Cumberland was just as important as learning about the King. Francis did need to correct her guess about the King, though further talk of that vanished from her mind at his more surprising revelation. "The English King goes out in disguise?" there was an incredulity in her voice, "does he have his gentleman and life guards in disguise also - visiting just anywhere in london. But, such a striking man. Doesn't everyone actually recognise him? La, but perhaps they know not to undo the charade, and keep their silence."

 

"That must be very exiting." her gaze returned to Francis again, and she smiled at him with her growing belief that he was a daring adventurer, just poised for action. Though not so much just now. Unless one counted his... "Bone? Yes, like a bone." she grinned of the simile. "And now, after this, is the thrill of my own ankle reduced? Is the excitement only for those a gentleman has not already had. Do I need dare a greater flirtation with you when next we meet?"

 

"Une amie," Nicolette repeated, choosing this time to kiss Francis' face softly. Hearing him tell her these things continued to increase her esteem for him. And too, now and then he dropped in the loveliest comments. She did not make a fuss of it of course, but it wound about her with a sumptuous happiness. Pressing fingertip to his nose she teased, "Francis, I might just love you, if you do not beware." was her playful warning with dancing eyes.

 

In the depth of her thoughts she made private vow to remain a true friend to Francis, to Buckingham, even to England.

 

"I'd like to stay a little longer..." She replied lazily, reaching to tug up a blanket over their cooling bodies, tugging it back around over herself.

 

 

OOC: shall we fade out on our scene around now? Nicolette can take up that offer of a carriage after a little cat nap

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...

"I used to watch the ships a lot when we were in ports," Francis revealed. "That gave me a yearning for the sort of adventure one only gets at sea."

 

Francis had not been so much correcting her guess about the King, because His Majesty surely liked a woman who could take charge and challenge his bedroom antics. A man who did all the commanding sometimes needed a break from decisions. It was more simply that he was always still king. One had to learn to make the decisions that would please him. An odd dance.

 

The Villiers cub found it not that much different being one of His Majesty's gentlemen, minus the fucking and substituting it for seeing to the fucking, for his royal master still did like some honesty and some informality, but that made him no less royal master.

 

"He does, indeed, as you will fast learn at any libertine parties, but he likes when people play with the ruse, even if they show that they know covertly. I cannot say who accompanies him in such times, mademoiselle, for that would be careless." It was well-known among libertines that the King went out in disguise, but he took his oaths on joining the household rather seriously.

 

"And, no, the thrill of your ankle will not be reduced." He chuckled. "Such flirtations will now remind me of other arousing things."

 

He smiled when she touched his nose lightly, tilting his lips up to kiss the finger. "I do not shy from any dangers." He did not think she really meant to feel in love with him, and he surely felt love as an affection that could surely extend to those one shared a bed with, for there were more intimacies than simply the body shared there in the best of cases. "And the gentleman of His Majesty must be fearless, do you not think?"

 

He shifted further into the bed with her, sharing their warmth and closeness without any hesitation. Soon he would bring her far greater pleasure than what a man could when breaking through those virginal barriers. He truly could not wait.

 

(So I totally saved the draft eons ago and then forgot I never posted it...SORRY )

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"... and of any thing you are, it is certainly not careless." Nicolette purred turning her focus back upon Francis himself.

 

He could tell her much of His Majesty, her understanding of the Royal nature was maturing, but her and now she was with Francis. "Quite the opposite of careless in fact..." His skin was warm, she mooched a little closer, sharing body heat. "...which I think I've benefited from tonight." With prospect of other nights softening her words with a smile.

 

His comment that adventures upon the ocean could not be found upon land, was not ignored, but stowed away in her mind. It seemed an apt theme for some Rule of Mischief in his honor. In private, she'd think upon it more, and try come up with something that might amuse him, and, hopefully, make him smile of her. She desired his warm feelings.

 

"Yes, always." A mellow giggle jiggled her body as he nipped her fingers, his declaration was appealing too, "so you shall trust in your deftness, your wits and fast reactions, to avoid those darts mmm?" Nicolette did enjoy the role of huntress, even of the most elusive game. She wanted his love. Not for exclusiveness, of him, nor herself, but in that selfless devotion towards that the romantic within her yearned to give, and to receive.

 

Her eyes slipped closed, nestled there, it was peaceful and so very safe.

 

 

 

 

 

OOC: no probs!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

She dosed off and when his man put his head in the room, Francis told him to ready her a coach, though he had little idea why she felt that she would need to leave.

 

Some time later, he woke to see her off, padding down the stairs in a pretty velvet house coat similar to the one she had seen Buckingham wear, which might suggest that it was the duke's fashions that ran the tailors in the household. He gave her a kiss before she ventured out into the night, saying, "Next time, you stay."

 

He sent Tommy with her to make sure she would be safe on the short trip back to Basildon's.

 

(Fin?)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

She was loosely dressed, but barely awake as they went downstairs - well she was awake enough to admire his house coat, in Buckinghams style. There was something very reassuring of the way styles of the master ran comfortably though the household, though why that was, she could not quite put her finger upon. She was more focussed upon the warmth of the man, peek of his chest at it's neckline reminded her of how much more of him she'd seen.

 

"Good night Francis." she murmured upon his kiss. The words he gave her none so cliche, so that even a sleepy Nicolette caught her breath. Meeting his eyes, she gave a look, a nod of head -- there could be no mistaking that she was elated with the idea, the joy of it tensioned her stance!

 

She did not want to diminish it's lustre with an artless assent.

 

And Tommy was waiting (poor man to have been woken at this hour!) With a grin growing upon her face, she moved to the carriage, and upon a flirtatious impulse turned and flashed him her ankle before she scurried on up. Giggling, laughing, oh what a wonderful night - and more, much more to come!

 

 

 

OOC: Oui!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Archived

This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.
×
×
  • Create New...