Vod Nordstrom (
bitofalegend) wrote2014-01-11 06:23 pm
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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.
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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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?"
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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?"
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"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.
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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."
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"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.
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"Fair enough."
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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?"
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"So how'd you like it, then?"
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Briefs. Nice. Vod's eyebrow quirks.
"I dunno," she says, thumbing open the button on her jeans. "What's on the menu?"
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Or a reasonable amount anyway.
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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."
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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.
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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.
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That had actually been nice, his hands on her tits like that, and Vod lifts her head when he stutters.
"What?"
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"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.
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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."
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