Loving the way you swallow it all even snot.

Nice…just poured a little Four Roses and rocks…very quiet here, aside from the good musical selections

Spreading your ass cheeks facing the door wishing I had more time tonight.

with the saliva dripping along my chin through parting lips.

Megablocks
Don't feel too bad, she's easy to miss. She's small, dressed in drab colors, and she doesn't have any deadly weapons on her. For the Night City she was practically wallpaper.

Her head tilts more as she rambles at you and your eyes try to decide what side of her head.

Well, you hadn't screwed over Nobunaga. You dealt with him fair and square. Besides Iridia is right, your ass is BANGIN'!!!

Yeah! Carnyx. That's your name. She said. then she laughed at her self. Like you didn't know that. Ooohhh shit.

She rubbed her face. Yeah, I'm between kissing boo boos and catching babies at the moment. I decided that eating was a good idea.

She winced as you jammed your finger in your eye.

Do... do you have a boo boo?

Tongue sucking your mouth deliberately filling in with My drooling saliva.

slipping to my knees as my tongue moistens my lips.

slobbering beneath the kiss with racing heart.

You are back!!!!

all three
~s~

and nice choice...
here's a complement:
for John Prine ... Tyler Childers - I Guess They Oughta Name a Drink After You

Walks I. After going to the spa…

Hey baby!!!

Compromise

running to kiss You.

South Town
My eyes are drawn to you as you speak up. I feel a pang of shame, being caught unawares. I tell myself that if I was in perfect working order, I would have had you scoped out 10 minutes ago, when I first passed by this place in the Delamain.

My left eye sticks in it's previous direction, holding the gaze on something in the distance, a person having argument, so the electronic signal it gives my visual unit has two people hugging in the far distance being overlaid on you calling out to me. Your features pull up a multitude of photographs from previous meetings, a tab within a folder within another tab.

Pictures of you at a bar, looking at me with derision. Avoiding eye contact. A far cry from the position now, where you're calling out my name.

Eir. That's what the folder is titled, that's what I go with.

"Eir, right?"

Unless my note taking was sub-par, which it never was. I step out of line after making a value judgement. I could go several more hours before my need to eat overcomes any other thought process or physical functionality. The dossier I've compiled on you notes that you're a ripperdoc, and operate freelance. Since my trip by Doc 2/47 showed the area closed, there wasn't much else in terms of quacks I could trust not to pry into the vast libraries of knowledge I had.

To fix the vision issue, the wild wall-eye that I present, I close my left eye. A finger comes up to press against the flesh of my eyelid. It knocks the stuck motor-servo loose, and when the eye opens again, both of them are looking at you. Much better for my depth perception.

"Grabbing something t'eat?"

I allow a bit of the brogue through, which has shown in the past it allows an American to trust me a little more. As a sidenote, I recall that in England, an Irish accent actually does more harm to my trustworthiness.

speakeasy

grok

How many Heinlein fans are here?

Converse

EXASPERATIONS

Every
Xtracurricular
Activity
Subscribed
Perpetuates
Elevated
Reinvigorating
Attempts
To
Inspire
Only
Never
Sleeping

SLEEPING

OOC Lounge
A growled sigh as I slide within, powerfully aware of the time of day and how little of it remained for play. Early starts and late finishes, the temptation to caffeinate and lustfully satiate was ever building. A breaking point was inevitable; a moment of pure, primal drive that dispensed with all the niceties and sought nothing less than the utter ravishment of another being. Selfish, ruthless, merciless; an outpouring of pent-up lust to leave exquisite curves trembling and sweat-gleaming and utterly ravaged. Body and mind exquisitely broken, for a time, to recover or not according to their own inner darkness.

But not tonight, alas. Time enough to pour a drink and breath in the smoke and threat of rain before passing out beyond black-out curtains. And wait for the dreams to come, vivid and intense and inevitable. The torment of an imagination sparked and left to frustrated wait.

Are you drinking whiskey or is that just a musical theme?