[ it's a paradox, maybe, but restraint has never been her best feature. given her posture and her poise, she might be easily mistaken for a restrained personality. peggy's is certainly a guarded one, as anyone who sniffs around her personal life can attest. but beneath those sharp-edged airs and graces lurks a white hot temperament. and it's this vein rip now skirts, plundering instead that thin veneer of restraint. like little shudders along her muscles; introductory, easy, and sweetly foreboding.
how on earth did she end up here? how on earth did they? it's a question which barely merits the brain cells as she squirms above him, the silk of her blouse sliding on the textured wall. and peggy scrounges together the thought that maybe she ought to feel regret for having diverted him last week. no reason that both of us should go without, he'd offered. and she balked.
no, she refuses to let this new regret darken a doorstep already overcrowded with so many others. thinking about it only distracts her from the unmediated delight he's offering her right now. well -- practically unmediated. there are his tightening hands to consider. and the way he's just-about-avoiding where she'd really like to feel his tongue -- near-misses that she's starting to realize aren't misses at all.
his aim is intentional -- and utterly. as realizations go, this one only fans the flames.
peggy sinks back against the wall. this time, her corresponding grip only tries to take him nearer -- sod the scratch of his beard against tender skin, sod the arguments his fingers make to keep her stilled and restrained. a few too many heartbeats have passed with peggy playing the ingénue in rip's little overture; it's time that she saw fit to claw back. as lovely as his current exploration proves to be, she uses a fistful of hair to try and pull his mouth higher once again.
no subject
how on earth did she end up here? how on earth did they? it's a question which barely merits the brain cells as she squirms above him, the silk of her blouse sliding on the textured wall. and peggy scrounges together the thought that maybe she ought to feel regret for having diverted him last week. no reason that both of us should go without, he'd offered. and she balked.
no, she refuses to let this new regret darken a doorstep already overcrowded with so many others. thinking about it only distracts her from the unmediated delight he's offering her right now. well -- practically unmediated. there are his tightening hands to consider. and the way he's just-about-avoiding where she'd really like to feel his tongue -- near-misses that she's starting to realize aren't misses at all.
his aim is intentional -- and utterly. as realizations go, this one only fans the flames.
peggy sinks back against the wall. this time, her corresponding grip only tries to take him nearer -- sod the scratch of his beard against tender skin, sod the arguments his fingers make to keep her stilled and restrained. a few too many heartbeats have passed with peggy playing the ingénue in rip's little overture; it's time that she saw fit to claw back. as lovely as his current exploration proves to be, she uses a fistful of hair to try and pull his mouth higher once again.
she's can aim, too. ]