fandomtownies | The Gig: Thursday [7-22-10]

He looked around; quiet, remote, actually fairly pretty. It looked rather familiar.

"Yes," he said with a sigh. "I suppose this will have to do."

"We could go back..."

"No," he said, petulantly; such an act. "I am looking forward to see what you have to present," he said, swinging off the horse.

He meant food, of course. Really.

That got another raised eyebrow and chuckle behind his back, but she dismounted and began to set out the blanket and food.

She was careful to bend all the way over, showing off far more than she needed to.

James appreciated that, and made sure to ogle dutifully. He wondered if the view from the other side would be as appetizing, but he would not put voice to that as yet.

When she'd set everything out, she lowered herself to the blanket and stretched out as if innocently resting - and yet somehow in a most provocative pose. "Please... help yourself."

He enjoyed the spread for a moment longer before joining her on the blanket, still obviously ogling her neckline, wondering if it had been that low when they started this journey.

"Of course," he said, reaching for one of the two ... bread rolls that were on the blanket.

She wriggled a little, accidentally lowering that neckline even more, as she turned slightly onto her side to face him. "Is this what you wished for?"

What a fortuitous accident. "Indeed. I may fire my normal groomsman and hire you on as my stable hand!" he stated, this time ogling for real and not just as a character trait.

"Oh? And do you pay well?" she asked innocently. "Are there good... benefits?"

"Oh, the best, huge benefits," he said, looking her over again as he (subtly, of course, as any nobleman) shifted position a bit to relieve some pressure. His eyes trailed below her waist and wandered there for a moment.

"Huge, mmm?" She took a deep breath, pushing her chest out ever so unsubtlely as she did so.

Oh, look, his eyes moved back up. He was almost certain that the poor shirt would not survive, yet she was still (somewhat) modestly covered.

"Oh, indeed. Biggest you ever saw," he said, nibbling on his bread to stall and see what else Betsy would do.

She tugged at the bottom of her shirt pulling it up to just below her breasts. "I hope you don't mind," she said. "It's just so terribly hot."

"This beastly weather," he agreed, loosening his own shirt; he preferred his Kingdom clothes for horseriding, despite a fan of jeans.

She smiled at him. "Yes, please, make yourself comfortable. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, just go about your business," he insisted, ogling her again.

Oh, she was doing this on purpose, and he had to stifle his grin.

"Very well then," she said and rolled over onto her back, somehow managing to hike her shirt up even farther. She closed her eyes, arching her back a bit, and made a happy contented sound.

One that, incidentally, was not unlike the sounds she made during other pleasurable activities.

[ooc: And I must to bed! Night!]

Betsy sounded much like Helen, and certainly seemed to look a lot like Helen.

"Oh, Betsy, I think there's something on your shirt," he pointed out. It may have been some lint, or a small bug, or just a ploy; she'd never know.

[As must I! Night!]

"Oh?" she looked down at it innocently, then wriggled a little closer, offering her - shirt to him. "Would you please...?"

"Of course!" He leaned over and started miming trying to grab the nonexistant bug. His fingers happened to be at one of her sensitive spots, and somehow her shirt was moved so that even more skin was exposed.

Helen gasped and pushed away. "Why Sir!" She put her best offended look on. "How dare you... stop?" And leaned back in.

That got a snort from the pretend gentleman after she leaned back in. "Why, I am just trying to help! Right there!" he cried out, delicately pinching once more. It wasn't a bug. "I've got it!"

She gasped, arching into him. "Sir! You are no gentleman!"

Notice there was no moving away.

"Indeed I am not," he cried out, pinching again. Such a struggle she was putting up. Really.

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