paradisalogs | [Closed] Video games, go!

She tugged and almost didn't let it go. "No."

"... I mean, yes. Uh huh. Your... uh... clothes are over there." Gangly? She'd slap him if she'd heard the thoughts in his head. As it was, she was just lucky that he didn't seem to notice the actual ogling for what it was. Because that was a whole other level of something she didn't need to add to her current complication.

He nodded, taking the towel from her and drying off as best he could. What was worse, truly worse, was just how incredible she looked in relation to him. Not that it was bad that she looked that way, of course. He'd been wrong about her looking just like any other woman in a bikini. She looked like Kenzi in a bikini, and that was something special to behold. The piece of shiny jewelry sparkling in her navel only heightened the effect, sending butterflies through his stomach.

... His thoughts were beginning to spiral away from him. Rolling his eyes at himself, he finished with the towel and walked over to retrieve his clothes from where she had left them.

Please bend over. Please bend over. Please bend ov-- mmm. She let a smug smile slip over her face as he bent to pick up his clothes. The used to be car had a nice ass. She quickly looked away, going over and grabbing her own bundle and tucking it under her arm. Then she turned and headed back to the castle as is, bare feet padding along.

"You coming, slowpoke?"

"You're not getting dressed first?" Admittedly, if he pulled on his jeans they'd end up soaked too, and not in good places, and probably make him chafe. But he was still in his underwear, and while Kenzi may have to deal with that fact, no one else should.

"No point. Not soaking my clothes and making it look like I peed myself, thanks."

It seemed to him that women could get away with these sorts of things easier than men. His compromise was to pull on his shirt, hoping they made it back to their room without difficulty or delay.

They did, of course, because nothing of note was happening now that the carnival was gone. And it had literally vanished over night, a feat she was impressed by, having seen carnies linger around for a while after one had 'packed up'.

'Relief' did not begin to cover what he was feeling. He wouldn't be caught out like that again - next time, even if he was sure he wouldn't be getting wet, he would bring swimwear and an extra towel. Maybe two.

He dug out some clean clothes, combed his hair with his fingers, and called himself presentable.

And she sprawled on the bed after she'd laid a towel down, a bottle of oil on the bedside table and an impatient hum. Food could wait until after she was a gooey pile o' Kenzi.

Oh. She hadn't forgotten. Oil was going to complicate things. And... she was still in her swimsuit. He could only hope he didn't he didn't get oil everywhere. She'd probably kill him if it soaked into her bedspread.

He picked up the oil, spreading it around his palms, then sat down on the bed next to her, wondering how best to approach this. "Full body, you said?"

"Mmhmm. You know, it'll put less strain on you if you straddle my legs. You're bending over too much."

Straddle. "Oh. Ah. Like this?" He maneuvered himself so that he was straddling her, just like she asked - sort of. Did straddling one of her legs count? It was hard to move with his hands already oiled.

"Over both legs. Then you can sit on them. Ish."

Have all the wide eyes, Kenzi. All of them. "Won't that hurt you?"

"No, Kitt. If you sit up high enough, you'll probably wind up sitting on my butt so you can reach everything. My butt has cushioning, and the way your knees rest, you'll be mostly on them and your legs."

"Oh. Right." He had serious doubts about what she was asking of him. The oil on his hands was making life difficult for him - he really wished he'd waited on that, but he'd expected to be leaning over her as he had the night before. He sort of used his knees and elbows to position himself the way she wanted him to be, so that he was indeed sitting on her butt, with his knees on either side of her.

If anyone had told him even a week earlier this would be happening to him, he'd have recommended them for a psych evaluation with Dr Alpert. As it was, he was beginning to think he was the one who needed it.

"Is this right?" He was holding his hands in the air like a surgeon after scrubbing.

Making sure her hair was twisted out of the way, she wiggled under him, grinning. "That's just fine, Kitt. Now, make mama happy."

She knew he was vaguely uncomfortable, and she was likely taking some kind of advantage of him, but really, she was doing him a favor. All kinds of unsavory types were out there who'd do a lot worse. She just wanted a rub.

Oh, Kenzi. Don't wiggle. He nodded, his voice quiet. "I'll do my best." All he had to do was concentrate on the job at hand, starting with her neck and shoulders, keeping the bottle of oil close by.

"Oh, I know you will." Which was a pleasant thought, really. He might be a stubborn jackass, but he genuinely put effort into things.

Like the way his fingers found the same spots that had made her groan last night. They did the same tonight, and she relaxed as much as she could under him.

He was a firm believer in the old axiom that if there was a job worth doing, it was a job worth doing right. No matter how uncomfortable the circumstances. Not unpleasant. But uncomfortable.

He started at the top, just as he'd done the night before, the same method with his fingers and the heel of his hand, digging in deeply into the muscles. She wasn't nearly so tense as the night before, likely due to the hot springs, but there were still pockets of knotted muscles as he worked his way down, stopping only to re-oil his hands.

"M'gonna keep betting with you to make you keep doing this," she mumbled, letting out another sound that bordered on almost being obscene. She couldn't help it, though. His goddamn hands were just... just... there went another noise.

Maybe he'd discovered his calling here. Maybe not. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear sounds like those from anyone else. He was beginning to enjoy himself, scooting up a bit so that he could lean in farther, reaching more of her back.

"I only work nights and weekends, and I don't do windows."

"Windows are for chumps. Why do them when you can do me?" The phrasing was innocent and completely slipped her mind as she let a happy little sigh slip out of her. "God, did you read about massages or something in car form, because day-um, skillz, Kitt-Katt. You got them."

"I'd much rather do you." Same. Same same same. He might throw some elbow into it for a change-up.

"I can't recall. I don't think so." Mmmhmm, he could feel that muscle right there trying to resist him. He rocked himself forward and back, giving himself some leverage to tease out the knot.

So lost in bliss is she, that she doesn't even catch the slip, which she normally would have teased him mercilessly about. You're lucky, Kitt.

The rocking, however, is adding a little extra... extra to the rub, and has the tone of the sound she makes changing just a tad. Just a little, for anyone paying attention. "So good..."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject