[These business parties were always dull as hell. Bunch of opportunists rubbing elbows and showing off their trophy wives, had been her first thought the first time she'd been invited to one of these, and the sentiment still held true now at her dozenth or whichever one.
She's only here because she's rubbing elbows a bit too. Being a fitness coach and nutritionist for the very rich and very famous had its perks — mainly the paycheck — and she's networking tonight in order to keep her business booming. She's schmoozed as well as she can for the time being, gotten several interested parties, and one guy who wanted her to model for him, to which she had been somewhere between flattered and insulted. In any case, she's freed from social obligation for the time being, and nurses a drink at a reserved table while people-watching.
Someone catches her eye. She'd noticed her before: an elegant, melancholy-looking woman who stood always in reach of a distinguished-looking man. Her husband, Fang had guessed, but they don't necessarily look loving. There's a level of performance in marriage here, just like there was in every aspect of these networking parties, but there has been not even the illusion of closeness in these two. It was not her business, Fang decided, but she finds herself waiting and watching anyway, and when the man excuses himself to talk to a friend, Fang heads in the direction of the woman.
She does it in a way that is unhurried and casual, makes a show of talking to others in the crowd before going to stand beside the woman. A moment passes, two, and then she looks over, brow furrowing some, as if trying to remember her from somewhere.]
Have we met? I swear, I've talked to most everyone here, but I don't think I've said hello to you.
[The woman's very pretty, and a bit of harmless flirting would keep this sorry excuse of a party from being too boring.]
[ kotone's honestly lost track of how many times they've done this since the night before. it was golden week, sasha had invited her over. they've taken breaks at points to sleep and eat, but—god, it's impossible to think right now. she grabs on tighter to sasha's hips with a gasp, pressing her up against the glass pane of the shower as she keeps slamming into the older woman's pussy, that wrist-thick cock hammering her depths like it has so many times before. ]
Still soooo tight— [ she gasps that out, eyes fluttering. her hips crash against that thick ass with a steady plap! noise, setting it bouncing and pushing her forward against the glass as the steam and pulses of hot water envelop them both.
she isn't even sure what time it is. mid-afternoon. sasha had said something about expecting company over the holiday, hadn't she?
but that doesn't matter right now. she wants to fuck her harder, deeper—]
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She's only here because she's rubbing elbows a bit too. Being a fitness coach and nutritionist for the very rich and very famous had its perks — mainly the paycheck — and she's networking tonight in order to keep her business booming. She's schmoozed as well as she can for the time being, gotten several interested parties, and one guy who wanted her to model for him, to which she had been somewhere between flattered and insulted. In any case, she's freed from social obligation for the time being, and nurses a drink at a reserved table while people-watching.
Someone catches her eye. She'd noticed her before: an elegant, melancholy-looking woman who stood always in reach of a distinguished-looking man. Her husband, Fang had guessed, but they don't necessarily look loving. There's a level of performance in marriage here, just like there was in every aspect of these networking parties, but there has been not even the illusion of closeness in these two. It was not her business, Fang decided, but she finds herself waiting and watching anyway, and when the man excuses himself to talk to a friend, Fang heads in the direction of the woman.
She does it in a way that is unhurried and casual, makes a show of talking to others in the crowd before going to stand beside the woman. A moment passes, two, and then she looks over, brow furrowing some, as if trying to remember her from somewhere.]
Have we met? I swear, I've talked to most everyone here, but I don't think I've said hello to you.
[The woman's very pretty, and a bit of harmless flirting would keep this sorry excuse of a party from being too boring.]
so sorry for taking so long! i've been sick
it's okay! i hope you're feeling better
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so sorry for the delay! the holidays destroyed me
same! only getting back to rping again now
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Still soooo tight— [ she gasps that out, eyes fluttering. her hips crash against that thick ass with a steady plap! noise, setting it bouncing and pushing her forward against the glass as the steam and pulses of hot water envelop them both.
she isn't even sure what time it is. mid-afternoon. sasha had said something about expecting company over the holiday, hadn't she?
but that doesn't matter right now. she wants to fuck her harder, deeper— ]
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