[Oh, she hadn't expected him to do that, and for just a moment she balks. Groping and touching is one thing, but she'd best make a decision quick on whether she truly wants him to lift her skirt while they're in public.
The sensible, logical side of her says no, and there's a hundred different reasons why. No, it's too dangerous; no, what if you're caught; no, there are people nearby and if you moan they'll hear you, no, tell him no, he'll stop, tell him to wait until you get home, make it a bait, he's eager to catch you, make him hungrier--
But his fingers are warm and rough against her thigh, and it's all she can do not to beg him to slide them against her. Her panties are soaked through already, wet and sticking to her cunt, and she can't stand the thought of walking all the way home without at least a taste of what's to come.
White teeth flash against red lip as she bites her bottom lip. She spreads her legs a little wider, giving him more than enough room to touch where he likes, and rolls her hips back once more.]
. . . yes.
[She breathes it out, her head ducking forward. The movement bares her neck to him, and she thinks suddenly of how an animal signifies submission, by going pliant and baring their most vulnerable parts. She thinks of how she must look right now, no better than some common slut, slumped over in an alley while a man touches and takes as he likes. And she thinks, with dazed amusement, how her mother would shriek to see her like this: not just in public, not just letting a man take her, but a Scot, and oh, what a shame that is.
She won't be this pliant all night. That's hardly fun. But for right this second, Rosalind submits, shivering beneath his hand.]
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Date: 2018-03-14 03:05 am (UTC)[Oh, she hadn't expected him to do that, and for just a moment she balks. Groping and touching is one thing, but she'd best make a decision quick on whether she truly wants him to lift her skirt while they're in public.
The sensible, logical side of her says no, and there's a hundred different reasons why. No, it's too dangerous; no, what if you're caught; no, there are people nearby and if you moan they'll hear you, no, tell him no, he'll stop, tell him to wait until you get home, make it a bait, he's eager to catch you, make him hungrier--
But his fingers are warm and rough against her thigh, and it's all she can do not to beg him to slide them against her. Her panties are soaked through already, wet and sticking to her cunt, and she can't stand the thought of walking all the way home without at least a taste of what's to come.
White teeth flash against red lip as she bites her bottom lip. She spreads her legs a little wider, giving him more than enough room to touch where he likes, and rolls her hips back once more.]
. . . yes.
[She breathes it out, her head ducking forward. The movement bares her neck to him, and she thinks suddenly of how an animal signifies submission, by going pliant and baring their most vulnerable parts. She thinks of how she must look right now, no better than some common slut, slumped over in an alley while a man touches and takes as he likes. And she thinks, with dazed amusement, how her mother would shriek to see her like this: not just in public, not just letting a man take her, but a Scot, and oh, what a shame that is.
She won't be this pliant all night. That's hardly fun. But for right this second, Rosalind submits, shivering beneath his hand.]
Yes sir . . . would that be better?
[Mm. Perhaps not entirely submissive.]