[ The dress is such a feast to the senses that Jet isn't sure where to look first; steadfastly, he kept eye contact regardless of how perfect her tits looked, or how lacking her slender waist appears without one of his hands anchored to it. It's downright unfair how just a simple sundress enhances the already obvious beauty before him to a degree that Jet feels as if he needs to touch her. He never quite noticed the mole by her soft lips until now, nor her voluptuousness. Young women were truly built different nowadays...
Jet follows Hannah to the couch, slumping against the armrest and placing the bag and beer can on the table. He's a habitual man-spreader, but tries not to take up too much leg room. ]
...
[ She was... laughing? At him? Was that a good thing? Jet hides his bewilderment by cracking open his beer and taking a few gulps to take the edge off what he perceived as a moment of stupidity on his end. He definitely could've been smoother about it. But he could tell it didn't exactly ruin his chances of getting laid this evening. He'd never understand women; the younger they were, the harder to read they became. That flustered look on her face was cute as hell, though.
Oh, her hand is on his leg. She wants to kiss him. Oh. ]
Wouldn't want that, would we? [ He, too, leans forward; one hand coming to her chin, thumb ghosting across her bottom lip — the other testing the waters, delving under her sundress to lay claim to her thigh. ] I'm right here.
no subject
Jet follows Hannah to the couch, slumping against the armrest and placing the bag and beer can on the table. He's a habitual man-spreader, but tries not to take up too much leg room. ]
...
[ She was... laughing? At him? Was that a good thing? Jet hides his bewilderment by cracking open his beer and taking a few gulps to take the edge off what he perceived as a moment of stupidity on his end. He definitely could've been smoother about it. But he could tell it didn't exactly ruin his chances of getting laid this evening. He'd never understand women; the younger they were, the harder to read they became. That flustered look on her face was cute as hell, though.
Oh, her hand is on his leg. She wants to kiss him. Oh. ]
Wouldn't want that, would we? [ He, too, leans forward; one hand coming to her chin, thumb ghosting across her bottom lip — the other testing the waters, delving under her sundress to lay claim to her thigh. ] I'm right here.