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

"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.

She reached a hand up to cover his. "Gently, good sir."

"I am not sure I quite have it," he declared. "It may be lodged under your shirt." Gentle. Squeeze.

She smiled at him and slipped her shirt up so that he'd have good access. "Do help me then, good sir."

Oh, well then, as a gentleman he would have to investigate further. "I think you,ve been bitten. Here, let me draw out the poison," he said, moving the fabric up and lightly teasing the 'bite' with his mouth.

She gasped and moved closer. "Sir!"

He moved over to the other side to duplicate his efforts there. "Betsy!" he cried out.

She leaned in to nibble on his ear. "Call me Helen," she whispered.

He grinned. "So you are Helen," he murmured.

(i think the other is friendslocked now, not just locked to us.)

She laughed. "Maybe. But I still don't have any horses named Helen."

[ooc: Okay. I can throw up a post at the hotel and link that. You just need to change the subject/title to Saturday night from Friday.]

"Well, then, there goes my whole eve, as I was planning on having Helen out for a ride," he said, spoken like the cad he was.

[Can do!]

"Oh, so very sad," she said, going to sit up and straighten her clothes. "Well, we should head back then, I suppose."

Two can play that game!

"Well, if that's what you want," he said, not moving much. He was comfortable; he laid a hand on her stomach as if to slow her movements. "But I was enjoying myself."

"Oh?" she said, raising an eyebrow, but letting him stop her.

"You were not?" he asked, tracing a little pattern on her skin with his forefinger.

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