"You mean you don't want--" Alistair begins, raising his chin to smile, and then stops there--a stuttering pause while it sinks in that there's probably a reason for that preference, possibly a reason that would make Alistair want to kill someone. The smile falters and then comes back smaller. "I'd smother you."
It's close to what he'd been planning to say before anyway--you mean you don't want an enormous sweaty human to crush you while you're trying to have a good time--with an illustrative pat to his. abs. there are abs under there somewhere.
But that's good. It's something Alistair can do, easily; he's wound up beneath his women, too, much more often than not, whether through personal preference or a tendency to fall in with ladies who like to push him around. One thing he knows he can do right. Confidence enough for him to go ahead with the trouser removal, carefully. He doesn't try not to stare. "What else?"
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Date: 2016-07-22 10:30 am (UTC)It's close to what he'd been planning to say before anyway--you mean you don't want an enormous sweaty human to crush you while you're trying to have a good time--with an illustrative pat to his. abs. there are abs under there somewhere.
But that's good. It's something Alistair can do, easily; he's wound up beneath his women, too, much more often than not, whether through personal preference or a tendency to fall in with ladies who like to push him around. One thing he knows he can do right. Confidence enough for him to go ahead with the trouser removal, carefully. He doesn't try not to stare. "What else?"