"[color=#2ecc40]He does have a pretty punchable face, he's earned a place on my ready to punch at a moments notice list[/color]." She giggled softly against the side of his neck, her knees tucking a little as she felt more and more of the lethargy wash over her. "[color=#2ecc40]No one but the two of us. You're the one I want to spend that time with anyway.[/color]"
She didn't mean to be falling asleep on him, to be tired to begin with. This whole evening had been going to be about him. She was going to have tempted him into the bath tub, gotten him clean and not smelling like the job, and then had tempted him down into the big bed and had her lips wrapped around his cock -- both sets of lips -- at some point in the night. But he had put a stop to that, had disarmed her greatest tool she had to feel in control of a situation, and had pleasantly not done to her what so many others had in the past -- used that momentary opening in her defenses, to work their way in, and fortify the crack they'd caused.
Colt had done that. Colt had snuck in, over the weeks, of course, but finally tonight had been when the keystone had fallen into place and that arch holding the rest up had settled into place perfectly around it, leaving him an open pathway. He had free access to a part of her she hadn't realized was still in there, and the only person who had ever taken the time to figure out it was still there to begin with. The child-like wonder and happiness that didn't come with conditions. The last time she had felt that happy had been...
Had been before that night the Old Man had stood, dumbfounded as someone had dropped copper pieces into his hand and he hadn't told her not to do it again. At fourteen that had defined her self worth, and it had continued at barely registering for the past thirteen years. She had seen the look on his face, the shame as he had tucked the copper into his pocket, and would later give her a portion of it to do with as she wanted. After that, she had learned that if she stayed still and occasionally make a small moan or gasp. That was the day she had lost what Colt had found once again now.
"[color=#2ecc40]Ya asking ta marry me, so ya can carry me to bed, like a bride?[/color]" Her words slurred as her eyelids had long ago dropped closed, her fingers fisted in his shirt as she had curled up atop him, barely able to reply, she's too far gone into the sandman's realm. "[color=#2ecc40]He's gonna carry me ta bed,[/color]" and her fingers tightened into a tighter hold on his shirt, but she was asleep. The safest she had felt, since the Old Man had stopped letting her sleep on the edge of his bed when she was still a child.
She didn't mean to be falling asleep on him, to be tired to begin with. This whole evening had been going to be about him. She was going to have tempted him into the bath tub, gotten him clean and not smelling like the job, and then had tempted him down into the big bed and had her lips wrapped around his cock -- both sets of lips -- at some point in the night. But he had put a stop to that, had disarmed her greatest tool she had to feel in control of a situation, and had pleasantly not done to her what so many others had in the past -- used that momentary opening in her defenses, to work their way in, and fortify the crack they'd caused.
Colt had done that. Colt had snuck in, over the weeks, of course, but finally tonight had been when the keystone had fallen into place and that arch holding the rest up had settled into place perfectly around it, leaving him an open pathway. He had free access to a part of her she hadn't realized was still in there, and the only person who had ever taken the time to figure out it was still there to begin with. The child-like wonder and happiness that didn't come with conditions. The last time she had felt that happy had been...
Had been before that night the Old Man had stood, dumbfounded as someone had dropped copper pieces into his hand and he hadn't told her not to do it again. At fourteen that had defined her self worth, and it had continued at barely registering for the past thirteen years. She had seen the look on his face, the shame as he had tucked the copper into his pocket, and would later give her a portion of it to do with as she wanted. After that, she had learned that if she stayed still and occasionally make a small moan or gasp. That was the day she had lost what Colt had found once again now.
"[color=#2ecc40]Ya asking ta marry me, so ya can carry me to bed, like a bride?[/color]" Her words slurred as her eyelids had long ago dropped closed, her fingers fisted in his shirt as she had curled up atop him, barely able to reply, she's too far gone into the sandman's realm. "[color=#2ecc40]He's gonna carry me ta bed,[/color]" and her fingers tightened into a tighter hold on his shirt, but she was asleep. The safest she had felt, since the Old Man had stopped letting her sleep on the edge of his bed when she was still a child.
03-01-2024, 11:57 PM
