She aims for such reactions always. Calypso won’t be one to let him forget what he had done even if he was growing. Even so, she isn’t immune and finds herself shivering and humming at the kisses to her throat. She gasps and grunts as her ass is slapped and squeezed. “Well good »
Sapphire—tinted irises roll with amused annoyance, head swaying languidly as a pair of lips gravitate to her throat and ever so gently lay tender kisses. “You.” But her ass is squeezed again, playfully slapped. “This might be a fine addition, but it does not triumph you.”
“Cereal, lou, really?” She shakes her head and smiles. So many options and her darling girl settles for cereal. Laoise sinks into her affections, hugs her and calypso holds her happily. This is the one thing in life she did right.
“I’ll just get a bowl of cereal.” Oh. It seems that she is most definitely a Mommy’s girl, leaning into the affections without the slightest of hesitation and happily returning, embracing her Mother in a hug of true warmth.
The silver haired woman hums and looks at her daughter with a tender smile. “Morning baby” she comes over to kiss laoise in the head. “You want some breakfast?”
One of his only redeeming ones as well. Calypso shakes her head a little, smiling to herself at his words. “Aren’t you just charming” she murmurs and grunts when her ass is grasped, squeezed. She snorts, “me or my ass?” She teases.
Perhaps that is his only leading trait. "Below average, but it's looking up now." Some sort of a romantic, enough to capture a beautiful woman. "I missed you." That supple ass is grasped, squeezed.
Why stick to only one sort of greeting. . . That grows frivolous, boring. But soon strong arms envelope a wondrously supple waist, grasping at her tight as she is reeled in close. "Wife of mine."
She hates that she so easily sinks into it, that she loves the feeling of possession and longing he emits on that singular act. “I’m alright” she answers, hand resting upon his, a pause. “I … missed you too.” She did, she had missed him.
cleats thoroughly used plague her shins, athletic shorts peaking out from under a significantly oversized jumper. here she is. the new star player. ready for her first practice with the new team and apparently a meaning with the owner of the club.
Her silver eyes flicker down to his hand holding hers. She looks up at her afterwards, seeing the awkwardness radiating off of him in thick waves. Calypso is quiet, looking away but fingers tangle with his.
his hand awkwardly grips @fatalewoes, an attempt to be romantic or perhaps affectionate but uncharacteristic nerves causing him to second guess himself.
An affair, yes. A meaningful affair. An indiscretion makes it sound cheap and meaningless. This is the best defiance she can muster at this very moment. She knows how much he hates when she doesn’t look at him. It surely was unique for he had unique ways of showing +
How else should they refer to it? Please, feel free to inform him of another reference and he shall gladly use it. Or they can call it what it was, an affair. She doesn’t gaze at him and there’s mild irritation, fingers trialing down the buttons of his designer shirt. But she +
+ she says softly, bringing her glass of wine to her lips. “Being your wife has been perhaps the worse thing to happen to me personally.” Eyes close as she takes a large gulp of her red wine. Perhaps the day she begins to see real change will be the day she will +
Her chin is grabbed again and she is quick to sink her nails into his hard stomach. “What is with you and touching me” she hissed softly but this time remains within his grip.
“I will admit, you have a great many talents.” But ignorance is low on that list. Her chin falls beneath his fingers, gripped loosely but enough to be felt and her head is tilted back. “I missed that bark.” Did he mean it? Perhaps. Cillian was never an easily deciphered man.