bitofalegend | (no subject)

Entry tags:

dakin,
in game

(no subject)

All of it, this whole thing, is fucking mental. If she didn't know for a fact that there wasn't any acid or anything in her system, she'd swear it was one big trip, the aftermath of another overdose, but everyone she speaks to swears it's real and, well...you've got to start trusting some time, haven't you? 'Suspicious bastard' just isn't in Vod's nature - she'll leave that to Howard. Someone, some girl, took her to the clothes box, so she's managed to swap out the clothes she's been wearing for two days (clean knickers, thank God) and feels a bit more like herself, in skinny black jeans and torn cotton. She's even managed to find a passable pair of boots. It's something, at least.

Vod's always sort of thought of clothes like armour.

The sign over the door says that this place is called 'The Winchester', and it looks...a lot like a lot of pubs Vod's spend time in. It's definitely a start.
Now she just needs to get shit-faced.

And laid. Strapping one on? Would definitely be welcome.

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Vod has pretty much always been in favour of a nice grip. She groans slightly, shifting her hips to push her arse back into his hands as they kiss.

Dakin takes the opportunity to squeeze. It's been all Irwin for a time now and, while it's nice and certainly has its benefits, sometimes he just misses being with a woman. There are so many differences between the two and he loves them both.

Her arse is totally a ten, and she knows it. She pulls back a little, biting her lip over a grin.

"Quite a lot of clothes still," she says. "Wouldn't you say, mate?"

Dakin smiles, pulling back just enough to start tugging his shirt off. He might make some smart remark about how her own ragged shirt might be stretching the definition of clothing, but not now. He's distracted, pleasantly so, and his capacity for smart remarks tends to decrease the longer things go on.

Well, yeah, okay. That'll definitely do. Vod eyes him up appreciatively and then she peels off her own t-shirt, dropping it on the floor. She loves this bra. The colours awesome and it makes her tits look amazing. She sets her hands on her hips.

"Still good to go?"

Dakin takes a moment or two to simply appreciate the view. Her tits look amazing, but he can't wait to see what they look like out of the bra. He steps back in closer again, still smiling self-assured and a little challenging. "Still good. You?"

"Fuck yes," she says, reaching behind her to unhook her own bra, shrugging that off too. She covers her tits with her hands and grins.

Dakin's grin falters. Modesty, feigned or not, isn't exactly what he was wanting right now. "What's this? I let you have a good look at me."

He's a brat, Vod can see that a fucking mile off, but it's definitely not enough to put her off, either.

"Not the same thing though, is it?" she says. "Your bare chest, my tits? Not exactly...wotsit. Comparable."

"Fuck comparable," Dakin huffs, looking more put out by the moment. He isn't above sulking (and other tactics) to get what he wants, it's worked for him in bed before, but he doesn't want to put in effort this early in the game. "What's so bloody special about them that you won't let me see?"

"They're a ten, these are, mate," she says, grinning, a very definite tilt to her chin. "Absolutely."

But she does let her hands drop.

Dakin's not exactly done a comparative study or anything, but he's seen his fair share of porn, so the ranking might be debatable. But still, visible tits are better than no tits at all and he's not about to complain. He also knows enough to try to flatter a lady and smiles and looks on appreciatively.

"Fair enough."

Vod stretches her arms up over her head and then sits on the edge of the bed, leaning back on the heel of her hands.

"Well?"

Dakin takes a moment to strip down to just his briefs. It's less clothes to worry about later on, plus he knows full well that he's got nice legs and there's a better chance of their being appreciated now than later on in the proceedings.

"So how'd you like it, then?"

Briefs. Nice. Vod's eyebrow quirks.

"I dunno," she says, thumbing open the button on her jeans. "What's on the menu?"

"It depends on what you're in the mood for," he says, smiling and moving closer to the bed. "I can offer a lot."

Or a reasonable amount anyway.

There's something about him that reminds her of JP - not the accent, definitely not the body - but something. Vod shrugs, shifting her arse so that she can squirm out of her trousers. Today's knickers are, frankly, tiny.

"I just want a good fuck," she admits. "Don't really care how."

Dakin can definitely manage that. He comes closer and goes back in for another kiss, rough and perhaps a bit over-enthusiastic. It's clear he's got the end goal in mind.

But he doesn't even bother actually verbally replying to her and running the risk of coming off as uncool. He tries not to think about it much, but it has crossed his mind that he might sound as old-fashioned to her as someone from the nineteen-fifties would sound to him. It's not a pleasant thought.

It's not the tidiest kiss that Vod's ever had but tidy can fuck right off, anyway. She had enough of that with Javier. She wouldn't mind a few bruises as long as no-one's staring meaningfully into her fucking eyes.

This? Has definitely got potential.

As Dakin continues the kiss, he also takes the chance to finally give her tits the attention they deserve. His exploration falters momentarily though when confronted with the piercing.

That had actually been nice, his hands on her tits like that, and Vod lifts her head when he stutters.

"What?"

"Nothing." He pauses, glancing at it briefly. "Never come across one of those before, that's all."

"What? This old thing?" Vod cups her left breast, squeezing her nipple between her fingers. "Had it since I was a kid. Got it when I was sixteen. Forged my mum's signature."

She grins, flashing the gap between her teeth.

"So does it... Is it business as usual, then?" Because Dakin, while he may be a brat most of the time, is at least fairly conscientious in bed. (When it suits him.) He likes being good at things, incredibly good at things if he can be, and that doesn't happen by not asking questions and ignoring what your partner likes best.

Vod nods, fingers curling around the back of his neck to pull him down against her, bare skin to bare skin. "Feels amazing when you tug it. You can use your teeth if you want."