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Post by rivalo on Nov 18, 2010 11:01:20 GMT -8
so take the photographs &&
still frames in your mind
hang it on a shelf
in good health and good time DEKKER [/SIZE][/size][/center] She smiled, nodding to him that she was in fact alright after gagging on the alcohol. However, she wasn’t quite all smiles about the park thing. She thought it was funny, though, and he really hadn’t thought it through before he’d suggested it. His brow furrowed as he thought about it, then a silent ‘O’ graced his mouth before slapping his palm to his forehead. ”Good point.” he muttered humorously in response to the park. He blushed again as she continued in her banter, grinning widely but glad that the waiter took that moment to finally arrive. He pulled out some cash to cover the meal (which was rather cheap considering the cuisine) and offered for the guy to keep the change. Dessi soon added to what would wind up being a generous tip and ambled over to look over his shoulder. He pretty quickly handed it over, wagging a finger at her before laughing it off.
He stood up to walk out with her and she continued to speak, but as she suddenly got shorter and popped back up again giggling he could only smile and wrap his arm tightly around her midsection to keep her from falling if it should happen. She rambled and he let her, pushing the door open and having to catch his breath at the cold that greeted them. He certainly hadn’t thought that idea through. She talked about maybe going to his house, and at this point Dekker thought maybe it was a good idea. Dessi beamed up at him and he grinned back down at her before deciding whether or not to drive them both to his place or if he should call a taxi. He wasn’t really feeling it himself, especially considering he was walking just fine, but he felt sure that with another drink and perhaps half an hour he might be in the same state as Dessi. Obviously she wasn’t drunk, but she was feeling a little buzzed from it all. ”Well it was my pleasure, dearest,” he said in response, leading them both towards his sedan in the lighted nearby parking lot. ”And I have, in fact, had second thoughts about that park. I think it’s likely we would both freeze our balls off if we stayed out here too long, so yes, I will take you to my humble abode.” he finished up with a slight faux accent, smiling more as he sidled the passenger door open and held out his hand to help her into the seat. They weren’t far from his own home, a two bedroom house that was simple, but spacious and comfortable. It would likely only take about five or ten minutes to get to his home, so when the engine whirred to life he turned the heat on low and quickly pulled out of the lot and onto the nearby street.
Considering their alcohol intake, Dekker chose to try and remain predominantly silent for the short drive, choosing to take deserted streets and shortcuts rarely traveled and brought them safely to his driveway. It was a circular drive and he parked just in front of the door instead of pulling it into the garage as his head had recently started to fog just a little. He walked around to walk Dessi in and unlocked the door, stopping on the threshold and sighing. ”Well, this is it! Not much from a woman’s perspective and all but it does the job.” he said with a smile, looking at the dark haired woman much more nervously than before. He’d never shown her his home and he was unsure how she would handle it. It was clean with simple yet matching furniture in good condition, a large flat screen along with a few gaming systems and an endless array of books and DVDs on shelves around the front room. A fenced backyard didn’t hold any animals, but he hoped she wouldn’t be too caught off guard by the elaborate hand-made rat cage in the corner. It was about chest high to him and rather large with multiple shelves, and from within the mesh wire that surrounded it two exceedingly curious rats could be seen standing on their hind feet looking inquisitively at them. One was all black with minimal white, the other an attractive blend of brown and gray. He kept his gaze on them for just a moment and then flicked on the light for her to see the living room.
He’d never told her he kept rats or that he had a fondness for them, and hoped she wouldn’t find them completely disgusting. Rats, in fact, were as intelligent as cats with the trainability and affectionate nature of a dog. Plus, far less effort could go into taking care of rats. They worked brilliantly with his work schedule. With his head spinning just slightly he leaned against the door frame, ignoring the cold air that pressed against his back and instead focused on the fact that he hadn’t, in fact, let his hand drop from Dessi’s side just yet. Now, though, if she decided a cold park would be better than his ratty home she could get out the door more quickly. [/SIZE] tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial
for what it’s worth,
it was worth all the while
comments: I hope you don't mind he dragged her right out and all the way to his house! x.X I figured it would make it a tad quicker to skip the drive. xD I CAN CHANGE IT THOUGH IF YOU WANT[/blockquote][/center] |
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Post by dessi on Nov 22, 2010 10:33:04 GMT -8
 you’ve shown me eventually what you’ll do. There was a pleased smile on her face when Dekker agreed that it was perhaps a bit too cold to spend the rest of their quiet evening outside. Though she had lived around these parts forever, one would think that she’d be used to the wet cold by now, but she was too thin-skinned for any sort of cold, or at least to tolerate cold for extended periods of time. She laughed when he mentioned that they’d probably freeze their balls off, batting a reply back at him,
My balls are far too big to freeze over so quickly.
When his arm slid around her waist she involuntarily pulled herself closer to him, allowing her own arm to go around his waist and let herself be led to his car, not stopping to think about her own vehicle, she trusted that it’d be safe in the hands of the restaurant, it wasn’t like it was placed in a bad part of town, and she didn’t have a too terribly expensive car (most certainly not something someone would want to steal or break into).
Shockingly enough, the drive to his house was shorter than she had expected.
A slight pang of envy went out towards him, jealous that he lived so close to downtown Addison. She felt as if she was living on the fringes of society in a lackadaisical neighborhood where nothing exciting happened. Perhaps, the lazy lifestyle of the place she lived was good for her though, since it seemed that Dessi and trouble often times paraded down the streets hand in hand, laughing and singing nursery rhymes like they were old friends (and they were). She would normally be chattering away, but Dekker was too focused on the road (perhaps worried about the alcohol intake he’d experienced at dinner), so instead she resigned herself to staring out the window and considering her future.
When she was ten, in school they had been asked where they’d be in ten years.
As a foolish child, she had said she’d be married and have two kids and a husband well worthy of her devotion. Obviously, she’d done a terrible job at predicting the future, as the path she’d wished to follow as a child had long since dissolved and crumbled away. Still, optimistic as ever, she believed that the current pat she was on was perhaps the best path for her; in a way she felt that Dekker ‘saved’ her. Before they met, she’d been in a deep spiral downwards, though not drug induced, she was slowly metaphorically dying inside, with the only emotional piece of her left in her books. For a long time she’d yearned for someone to understand.
And currently, it seemed she’d found someone.
Shaken from her thoughts when the car stopped, she smiled up at him as he opened the door on her side and led her to his house. It was small, quaint. A perfect bachelor pad. The inside was rather neat, almost spotless (this was an almost worrisome quality for Dessi, as she expected most single men to be absolute pigs). As he flicked the lights on the first thing her eyes traveled to was a cage in the corner. Curiosity tickled her fancy and she went straight over, her smile growing wide as she gazed down at the two pairs of beady black eyes curiously staring back at her. Her brother had owned rats, she’d always loved them and often times helped him play with them or clean their cage, looking back at Dekker, she noticed he looked a little nervous. Walking over to his couch she collapsed down on it and held out her arms, beckoning him over,
My brother used to have rats, they’re wonderful creatures for the person who wants pets but can’t find the time for cats or dogs. That’s a beautiful cage you’ve got there. Your house is quite wonderful.
He’d won her seal of approval.
658
notes: I’ve had rats before too  a grey female named Sophie, and a hairless female named Lacey <3
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Post by rivalo on Nov 24, 2010 16:11:46 GMT -8
--------------------------- so take the photographs &&
still frames in your mind
hang it on a shelf
in good health and good timeDEKKER [/SIZE][/size][/center] As light flooded the open living room he was pleasantly surprised as Dessi immediately made a beeline for the large cage in the corner. She bent just slightly to get a look at them, the two rats doing the same by stretching up and letting their noses go wild taking her in quizzically and likely wondering if she’d be offering them treats any time soon. Dekker was notorious for giving his rats one too many treats, but he couldn’t really help that; they were kind of a weak spot for him. She smiled and promptly made her way to his plush couch, plopping down quite comfortably and looking quite contentedly at him standing in the doorway. He was relieved she didn’t find the rats disgusting little things, and promptly closed the door to let the warmth envelop him completely. He was glad he hadn’t left the heat running when he left, though, else they would have likely been sweating bullets pretty quickly. The house was extremely well sealed, so both heat and cold stayed in without much effort. It saved on his electric bill anyway.
”I’m glad to hear it,” he said with a big grin as he made his way over to the couch. ”And thanks, but it only took me about a week to get finished. It would have been done in a few hours, but I can’t seem to find a few free hours in a row at a time.” he said in regards to the cage. ”I try to keep my house wonderful, but most of the time it’s the rats that get the better end of the deal.” he said with a chuckle before lowering himself onto the couch with a sigh, leaving a respectable space between himself and her, then offered forward the still half-full bottle of wine. Then, pulling it away playfully before she had a chance to grab it, he popped the lid and took a swig right from the bottle before holding it out again. ”My bad, would you prefer a glass? I guess that was pretty gross of me.” he said with seriousness, though his tone was light enough to suggest he didn’t really think it would upset her. After all, it wasn’t like he was a big drooler or anything like that, but he knew some people didn’t appreciate that kind of thing. Perhaps he’d been single a little too long.
”So what do you want to do now? We can watch T.V., or we can play some video games, or we can just say screw it and drink until we can’t see straight. Or we can do all of the above.” he said with a shrug, offering another wide smile before throwing an arm subconsciously across the back of the couch and stretching his legs out in front of him. He pushed his nice shoes off to reveal gray winter socks; it was a good thing he didn’t have smelly feet or that would be really unattractive. He wiggled his toes and watched his feet for a moment and then looked back to her with a silly smile still plastered on his face. His eyes were bright with the enjoyment of having her here with him, and in that moment he wanted to scoop her up and kiss her, but that might have been the alcohol working through his brain at long last. Not that he didn’t want to do that on a regular basis anyway, but the mellow light and warmth of his own home and having her sprawled on his couch only seemed to reinforce his desire to do so. He kept his cool, though, not being so intoxicated that he had no judgment, and drummed his fingers across the back of the couch with raised eyebrows as if waiting expectantly for her response. [/SIZE] tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial
for what it’s worth,
it was worth all the while
comments: [/blockquote][/center] |
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Post by dessi on Nov 25, 2010 18:58:18 GMT -8
you’ve shown me eventually what you’ll do. With her approval of his house and rats, it seemed that Dekker was beginning to relax. He closed the door behind him and the cold was quickly overpowered by the heat and he sat down on the couch, allowing a generous portion of space between them, and kicked off his shoes. Following suit she reached down and unstrapped her heels, happy to have them off (they were starting to hurt, but that was the price she paid for beauty, right?). She felt content and relatively at ease sitting on his couch. Generally the first time home after the first date had been a strangely awkward moment; maybe it was the alcohol that was keeping her unperturbed, or maybe it was because she had already felt like she’d known him for ages and she had basically little to hide from him, and as far as she was aware, he didn’t have much to hide from her. After all, what kind of trouble could an almost over-worked vet get into?
Most certainly not the trouble she got her under-worked self into.
She offered him a knowing smile when she spoke about the time it took him to actually make the cage (that she had not expected) and that if he had more free time it would have been finished quicker, a slight look of astonishment flickered in her eyes as she nodded slowly and said,
Wow, you made that? And was still working at the same time. Good god, you’re determined. So now that’s another thing I can admire about you, you’re a hard working vet who graduated early, and you make bad ass cages by hand, and you find time to ride your horses…Jesus Christ you’re putting my minor accomplishments to shame.
She laughed and playfully winked at him. When he offered forward the bottle of wine she went to grab it, only to let her eye widen in an offended manner as he took it away to bring the opening to his own lips. She crawled closer to him, like a dog wanting a treat, almost crawling on top of him before he stopped and offered it back in her direction. Close enough to where it was in her face, she grabbed it and eyed him and tilted her head back, bringing the bottle to her lips. Not taking too big of a sip she swallowed the liquid (though her tongue was now quite oblivious to its dry bite) and said,
Rude, that habit’s going to have to be fixed, I always get the first drink.
She then laughed and fell into the crook of his armpit and shoulder, her body pressed up against his.
Closing her eyes she listened to him offer suggestions of how they could pass the rest of the night.
Shrugging she took another sip. Leaning her head on his shoulder she opened her eyes and looked up at him and smiled,
I’m happy to do whatever so long as it’s with you…I like drinking, that’s always fun. It’s hard to watch TV drunk, nothing’s ever interesting. Video games can be fun, board games are fun too, we could play strip poker!
It didn’t necessarily occur to her that strip poker was not a ‘video’ game. She curled her legs up onto the couch and cuddled closer to him, closing her eyes again she wedged the bottle of wine between them and said,
You have got to be the nicest man I have ever met…but I’ve met a lot of douche bags…it’s really nice to know there’s still someone out there with a sense of chivalry and decent morals, for a while I was beginning to lose hope in the world.
Her speech was slightly slurred, but she meant every word of it. Every moment she spent with him, she felt like it’d only be appropriate to count her lucky stars and often reminded herself to hold onto him, as he’d probably be the last nice person she ever met.
The world just wasn’t what it used to be, was it?
o675
notes: well that’s cute of you, dessi.
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Post by rivalo on Dec 2, 2010 19:03:51 GMT -8
so take the photographs &&
still frames in your mind
hang it on a shelf
in good health and good timeDEKKER [/SIZE][/size][/center] As his head rolled back for just a moment onto the plush rest of the couch, he caught himself sighing and letting his alcohol-afflicted eyes slide closed, but as he could hear Dessi's shoes hitting the floor and she began to speak he snapped himself out of the heavy feeling that came with a little too much alcohol intake. He looked over at her as she spoke incredulously about him, but he wasn't quite sure he liked the sound of it. He wasn't perfect by far, but she definitely made it sound like she had something to live up to. He laughed mildly at her words, "Oh I promise you're glorifying it a bit too much." he said with humor, letting his eyes linger on her a little bit longer than intended. When she took the bottle following yet another swig her words were reassuring that he wasn't a totally disgusting man, and that she was perfectly okay with him drinking the way he did. "Apologies, madam, I will never make that mistake again." he said with a big grin, laughing as she took a swallow for herself.
She didn't much offer her own input for what she'd like to do, but what she did say flattered him quite a bit. Maybe it was because they were both getting drunk that he was so struck by what she said, but then again he would have been struck if sober, too. She'd never said anything like that to him, that she didn't care as long as she was with him. It further suggested that she truly cared for him like he cared for her, and as she humorously suggested strip poker his wistful smile only served to linger as he was riding high on her compliments. Within moments she curled up against him, her legs coming up off the floor and she wedged the wine between them and settled against his chest. He looked down at her in shock and wonder, still taking in her slurred words with his own sluggish brain. Just as a drunk person would do, he looked over at his rats and mouthed words of gleeful surprise at them before pointing subtly to the dark haired woman against him. They, of course, knew his every secret and if they understood English like he wished they would they would have known upon sight that this was the woman he'd filled their rounded ears with for the past six months.
Shaking off his drunken goofiness, he tried to be a bit more suave about it all. "Well, I'm kind of a big deal." he said with mock smugness, gesturing upward with his hands as if he really couldn't help his awesomeness. He laughed in jest before growing a little more serious. He liked her being this close and wasn't about to lose it any time soon. He hunkered down a little more in the couch and wrapped his arms securely around her whether she liked it or not. He felt as if he could scoop her up like a child if he wanted, but settled instead for letting his left arm wrap around her shoulders and the right over to brush the stray dark hairs from her face. He let his hand linger on her cheek, much like he'd done that day on her floor only a week after they'd met, again reveling in the feel of her soft skin against his hand.
"You know, I don't care what we do, either. So long as I'm with you." he said slowly, his voice somewhat husky and as slurred as hers had been. "You've got to be the most unique and honest and straightforward woman I've ever met." he said in all honesty, letting his only slightly rough cheek settle onto the top of her head. He sighed, not allowing the words that should be saved for at least six or more months of dating slip out of his drunken mouth. He let the more than comfortable silence settle for several moments before deciding to break it, the drunkenness either going to send him into slumber or a suddenly horny frenzy, "Hokay, we either need to drink more or start strip poker or do both." he said with a big grin, but not trying to move from his comfortably intimate moment with Dessiree. [/SIZE] tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial
for what it’s worth,
it was worth all the while
comments:[/blockquote][/center] |
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Post by dessi on Dec 8, 2010 12:54:18 GMT -8
you’ve shown me eventually what you’ll do. This would most certainly not be the first time that Dessiree had found herself three sheets to the wind in a man’s house. However, this would be the first time that she found herself maintaining a small degree of control over her actions; it was a shock to her hidden sober self that she had not already stripped and begged for sex (oh yes, she had a bad habit of begging when she was drunk). Perhaps it was because she wasn’t as drunk as she felt, or maybe it was because deep down in her heart and in the back of her mind she felt like Dekker was much more than someone to take advantage of while drunk. In fact, she was more than certain that it was because she liked not being alone and was rather terrified of doing anything that could potentially scare him away. The knowledge that someone knew basically all about her and hadn’t pushed her away or left her yet kept her scared of what was going to happen next between them, it was like she was wandering down a dark path without a flashlight to see what lie ahead (and that thought terrified her).
Still, she was trying to trust that nothing ‘bad’ would happen so long as she remained positive.
When he casually shrugged off her compliments she laughed (perhaps a little too loud) at his sarcastic gesture, but when he slouched down on the couch and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, she closed her eyes and pressed as close as the bottle between them would allow. There was a momentary silence, and Dessi felt obligated to fill it by mumbling almost incoherently,
This is really nice, I like this…
Her voice was slow, as if she were falling asleep, if given the chance, she probably would. Something told her that Dekker really wouldn’t mind if she did; but that’d be a rude way to end a date, wouldn’t it? But then again, she hadn’t ever fallen asleep on anyone to know exactly what their reaction would be, so for now she’d attempt to maintain consciousness until both of them agreed that their bedtime had passed and it was time to catch up on their beauty sleep. His declaration of not caring what they did so long as it was together broke the silence and warmed her heart. With her eyes still closed, she let a relaxed, but generally pleased smile twist her light-pink painted lips upwards, but merely nodded in response. His compliment made her heart stop for a moment, it had been a long time since she had heard someone genuinely tell her how they felt about her.
Opening her eyes she looked straight ahead with a blank expression as she mulled his words over.
Chewing on her lip, part of her was telling her to get out of it while she could, that there was commitment in the future; and ‘old’ Dessi was unbelievably terrified of such a thing. Luckily, most of her was reasoning that it was about damn time she tried something new (trusting, that is) and kept her put. However, he did not provide her with much more time to think over what he had said and was glad, as her heart had begun to ache at the thoughts. What he said next made her laugh again, a drunken chuckle. Not really sure how to play poker, a more brilliantly drunken idea popped into her head, slurred words filled the silence that had proceeded her laughter,
Or we could just drink and strip.
Not thinking over what she had said, she broke out from under his embrace and grabbed the bottle of wine to make sure it didn’t fall over and spill all over his clean couch. Twisting her shoulders and elbows back behind her back she unzipped her dress and let it fall to her ankles; as gravity threw her purple dress down on the ground she quickly grabbed the bottle and stuck the opening to her mouth and took a long swig, her head tilting back, swaying on the spot. She swung back down onto the couch in the exact same spot she had stood up from, now only clothed in a bra and panties. As strange as she was about the scars on her neck, she was far from ashamed about her body and most of the time did not miss a chance to show it off. Looking at the bottle, now probably missing half of what it had contained when they had arrived at her house she spoke loudly,
You know, I really like this kind of wine, and it’s really cold in here.
Obviously it was cold, considering she had little clothes on; but that had not registered as a reason as to why. Nonetheless, she used it as an excuse to practically sit on top of him and straddle him, shoving the bottle in his face she smiled brightly and said,
Let’s see who can drink the most in one drink!
It seemed like a better idea, since she had no idea how to play poker and probably sucked at board games.
o862
notes: –hums ‘tequila makes her clothes fall off’-
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Post by rivalo on Dec 25, 2010 10:45:29 GMT -8
so take the photographs &&
still frames in your mind
hang it on a shelf
in good health and good timeDEKKER [/SIZE][/size][/center] She quieted, but he could feel the smile cross her face as she pressed against him. He smiled involuntarily in response, adjusting to press closer to her (as if that were possible) and welcoming the giggle that came with his following comment. He hadn't let too much time pass between them; even drunk he knew that letting a serious compliment sitting in the silence to be pondered wasn't a great idea, especially for Dessi. The last thing he wanted to do, the very last thing he wanted to do, was ruin the relationship he'd been working for since he'd first set eyes on her. He was glad for the laugh, but not even in his adorably innocent drunk thoughts had it ever occurred to him that she would go for stripping and drinking. He hadn't really thought of it that way until she rolled suddenly to stand, unzipping her pretty violet dress and letting it hit the floor.
His eyes followed her in shock, watching the dress slip over her curves and fall into a colorful puddle on his floor. His eyes stuck to it for a moment, slightly wider for a moment before he realized her feet were sliding out of it and moving towards him. His eyes lifted and immediately found the garments he had never actually seen on anyone but his mother. He'd made out pretty excitedly in college before, but even then nothing but his hands found the inner garments of a woman's wardrobe. He'd never met anyone he felt it was worth losing anything to. Now, here she stood in front of him near naked with almost every inch of her impossibly perfect body revealed to him. Well, it was impossibly perfect in his opinion anyway.
As quickly as she'd stripped, though, she was suddenly on top of him, taking a swig quite happily and completely ignorant to his growing discomfort with the situation. His hands pressed into the couch cushions and familiar feelings stirred within his now hotter and faster flowing veins, making his swallow and close his hazy eyes tightly before opening them again as if to be sure he wasn't dreaming. She was impossibly close, every single arc of her body available for him to discover. Was this how he wanted it to be though? With more than just his hands and back stiffening he needed to figure out really quickly what he wanted to do, despite the alcohol clouding his judgement and encouraging him to do what nature had infused so strongly in his brain.
"Uh," he finally stuttered out, his eyes getting stuck on a few places before managing to snap up to her face. "Well uh, sure, I mean that'd be great." he said, relieved as she snugged back into the cuddly place she'd been before. He took the bottle, relief painfully obvious across his face as he chugged quite a bit and released a sigh of insecurity. "I agree, great wine, we should see who can drink the most." he said, downing more. His head spun but he separated himself gently from her, standing to head over to a linen closet. He staggered, tripping and catching himself on the while and busted into laughter, "I meant to do that." he said in an embarrassed tone, snatching a heavy throw out of the closet and moving in a jagged line towards the couch where she lay seductively bare. He plopped back down again, hoping the cold walk had done him some good, then threw the blanket across her and himself and pulling her back in again. Sighing with frustration, he worked up the courage to just tell her.
"Dessi," he said awkwardly, his tone as sober as he could make it, but still stumbling a little on the 'S's, "I've never.." he said, feeling like a child and taking another deep swig of wine. "I mean, what I'm trying to say is.." he said, waving his hand in the air as if he couldn't quite figure it out. He sighed again, his chin hitting his chest in frustration. What a pride buster. He leaned forward, away from her warmth which was threatening to warm him up again while keeping his eyes down, slinging his arms across his knees above the blanket. "I'm a virgin." he mumbled in shame, rubbing his face before turning to grin quite drunkenly at her. "More wine darling?" he said in a fake English accent before laughing and dangling the bottle in front of her. He tried his best not to let his eyes drift from her own. [/SIZE] tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial
for what it’s worth,
it was worth all the while
comments: -dekker's blue balls defrost-[/blockquote][/center] |
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Post by dessi on Dec 26, 2010 21:41:05 GMT -8
you’ve shown me eventually what you’ll do. When it came to the concern of other’s sexual activities (or lack thereof), Dessiree was rather oblivious. Most of the times, if she believed it suited her own needs or desires; she did not bother herself with it. There had been several instances where she simply proceeded ‘as usual’ when the unfortunate other half was clearly uncomfortable with what she was doing. Unabashedly selfish, Dessi’s lack of morals and inability to show selflessness in the sex battlefield was probably astonishing to most people.
And more than likely terrifying to virgins.
Unfortunately, for most people, they caught her at the height of her sexual desire drunk. With her, once her own clothes had been shed, she’d find her way into their pants whether they wanted to or not. Sure, there’s probably a chance she’d committed rape (unknowingly) once or twice. Yet, the falter in Dekker’s body language stopped Dessi’s sex train quicker than a baby carriage thrown onto the tracks a few hundred yards down. Through the alcohol, she sensed something was wrong, and in turn, she too faltered. His awkwardness made her awkward, this had never happened before, and she did not know how to react. So instead of instigating the situation further, she slid off his lap and instead curled back up beside him where she had been before she had stood up to take her dress off. She sat in a silent ponder.
What if he didn’t like her as much as she’d been thinking?
No. Such thoughts of negativity would not be allowed to creep in; though at the thought of it, she did want to cry. When he got up she was left alone on the couch, completely confused by everything she nursed her self-inflicted wound by finishing off the rest of the wine, she sprawled out on his couch, not bothering to see where he’d stumbled off to, but the sound of thudding feet and an embarrassed, slurred voice told her he wasn’t too far away. Sitting up on the couch she looked over an realized he’d only gotten up to get a blanket. Slightly relieved that he wasn’t running out of his house like a bat out of hell, she sighed silently and slunk back down on to the couch and waited for him to return. She was happy to see that he had returned, she’d been getting cold. But I suppose she deserves that, discarding her dress without consideration of where they were in their ‘relationship’ and all.
Not necessarily waiting for an invite, she crawled under the blanket and pressed her half-naked body against his fully clothed one.
Dekker said her name, the s’s slurred slightly. Responding to her name like a dog would, she beamed up at him. It was strange, how she felt about him. Had he been any other man, she might have put her clothes back on and left at the slightest assumption of discomfort with her. With Dekker, she attempted to reason that he had another excuse for his stiffness. His words were heavy and slow, he stumbled over them like a toddler would their own feet, and she was instantly attracted to his child-like demeanor. Absentmindedly reaching up with her arm, she toyed with the ends of his hair, gently twisting it between her fingers; her eyes never left his, curious as to what he had to say.
Part of her heart dreaded his words.
In the end, however, she was instantly relieved with it (perhaps not the best reaction from her). So he had responded to her surprise straddling the way he did because he had no idea what to do with a willing woman sitting on his lap. Suddenly happy again, she crawled back onto his lap; her right hand precariously perched near his crotch, her left on his chest,
And you had me all worried that you hated me.
A foolish smile lighting up her dark eyes, her voice a quiet whisper as she leaned in close, her lips almost touching his,
We can take it slow, there’s no need to rush, we have the night, fuck, our entire lives ahead of us, but do you trust me enough to give it a try now? Besides, I drank the rest of the wine while you were up…
Her right hand, still in the place she’d put it, tightened a little, as if she thought she could convince him to do what she wanted by mere touch. And she probably could, he’d just need a little coddling. Looking for a way to ‘seal’ the deal, she closed the minimal space between their faces and pressed her lips against his gently.
After all, the first kiss should always be the sweetest.
o789
notes: O:
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Post by rivalo on Dec 27, 2010 11:12:58 GMT -8
so take the photographs &&
still frames in your mind
hang it on a shelf
in good health and good timeDEKKER [/SIZE][/size][/center] Obviously being completely drunk and insecure at the moment he didn't catch Dessi's initial insecurity in the least. He was embarrassed even though some woman may have found it attractive, but even more unnerved because she bounced back so quickly. In a moment she was back on top of him, her movements slower and obviously meant to baby him because of it. His pride brought a stirring of irritation at being treated like a teenage boy getting his first hand job from an experienced girl, but the sudden placement of her hand wiped pretty much any thought from his head. His body responded accordingly and he almost missed her speaking again, but when her hand tightened again he jumped just slightly, making him laugh in embarrassment as he pressed into the couch. A freight train of feeling he wouldn't have thought possible torched through every system his body used to operate, but he tried his damndest to stay focused. To stay on top of the situation. "I could," he said shakily, a nervous grin twitching at the corners of his lips as he looked into her eyes and continued, "I could never hate you." he finished sincerely, determined to keep his brain in control and not his balls. To be honest his intoxication was really taking a toll and heightening every sense he had, so he wanted nothing more than to indulge in her offer.
But this wasn't how he'd imagined it. He had never let it happen before, nor had he wanted it to happen when he'd been drunk with girls previously, so it was important he keep that in mind now. But then, none of those women had been Dessiree Pearson, either. His hands clenched into the couch and he frowned just slightly as she murmured to him, closing his eyes and trying to keep them away from the sight of her breasts in that lacy getup. When his eyes opened, though, she'd finished speaking and was so close he could feel the heat of her rolling off and onto himself. Then, their lips touched and he lost complete control. Fire and ice mingled to create the feel of her lips against his and he couldn't help but accept and return the gesture. Hands released from the couch cushions and found her slender waist, easing lightly up her back until he found her face. His hands laced easily into luxurious black hair he hadn't thought to be able to feel any time soon and he kissed her back, loving the warmth and letting his hormones get a little too much control.
On impulse, he soon had her flipped and stretched across his couch cushions, pressing against her without crushing her, an arm under her back to place his fingers between her shoulder blades, the other moving from her face and down her side to grip her waist, all the while not even giving her a moment to breathe if she had wanted to do so. He latched to her lips and after a few moments moved to her neck, tracing the curves and lingering over the scars that riddled it to touch more softly.
His brain was buzzing between alcohol, testosterone, and halting sober thoughts that insisted he stop in his horny tracks and figure a way out of this situation. He didn't want to make love to her in a way that he wouldn't remember and in a way that might suggest they were just horny and had nothing better to do. He didn't want it to be out of control; he wanted it to be slow, and he wanted to discover her in a way that no one else had in her entire life (and vise versa obviously). His mind was screaming for him to stop, but his drunken turned on body yelled equally as loud to go, go, go! Frustratingly on cue, his gut gave an uncharacteristic lurch; he froze, his lips poised over her collarbone where he'd just been kissing before untangling himself from the couch and launching towards the floor. He tripped, sprawling into the kitchen where he lie on his back laughing his ass off before the vomit choked it off and he had to scramble back to his unstable feet. Running jaggedly towards the restroom, he just managed to slam the door behind him and get to the pot before it started (how embarrassing! was there no end to his humiliation?!). He stayed there for several minutes before collapsing weakly across it as if a life line to the present. With a shaking hand he flushed it then lie there with an arm draped across his fortunately clean toilet bowl. Too ashamed to move, he shut his eyes and let his head spin wildly until he could handle standing again. [/SIZE] tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial
for what it’s worth,
it was worth all the while
comments: OH NOES[/blockquote][/center] |
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Post by dessi on Jan 4, 2011 19:49:53 GMT -8
you’ve shown me eventually what you’ll do. Underneat her, she could feel him writhe uncomfortably. If she were anyone else, this’d be the perfect sign to stop. Then again, if she was anyone else, she’d have backed off the second she noticed that he was sexually awkward. Unlucky for him, she was not that type of person and felt a strange desire to push him to the edge, to see what it was like when he lost control. When her hand tightened around his groin, he jumped, and she couldn’t help but laugh. Drunk and intrigued, he was adding fuel to her sex fire, unintentionally of course. But his best reaction occurred when their lips toughed. The fire turned into an explosion as he responded accordingly. Working her lips against his, her hips pressing into his, she was moving towards the goal she’d set for the night. What was better was when his lips began to move down her body, pausing at every single new curve he had to explore. Perhaps he had a few things up his sleeve that she didn’t think he would have.
The night was young and obviously full of surprises.
However what she was not expecting was for him to pause mid-action and raise up halfway. Opening her eyes she saw a look of panic register across his face. Confused, she furrowed her eyebrows and frowned, but before she could even ask him what was wrong, he was rolling off of her. The second his body left hers, she was cold. Shivering on the couch, she began to fear that she had scared him, or that he didn’t want to do this. But when she sat up, she noticed he was running for the bathroom. Halfway to his destination, he tripped and fell into the ground, laughing loudly. Sitting up she twisted around and looked over the back of his couch to stare at his hysterically laughing form. Before she could ask what was wrong, he was back up and sprinting. The sound of a slamming door followed by the obvious noises of puking made her frown.
No, she hadn’t scared him, just made him drink until he was sick.
Good job Dessiree. Flopping back down on the couch, she let the adrenaline slowly leave her veins and allowed her hands to stop shaking before she stood up and stumbled towards the closed bathroom door. Not realizing that he’d probably close it all the way, she walked into the door, hitting her knees loudly. Cursing she slid to the ground right outside of the door and listened for him but heard nothing. Sitting with her legs splayed out in front of her she gazed at her toes and began to speak through the door,
I am really sorry about this…I really forget that I’m one of the few people who can’t drink themselves sick…I would know because I’ve tried. Are you ok in there? Do you need help?
She listened to the silence for a little more before standing up and trying the door knob, pleased to find that he hadn’t locked it she pushed it open and shook her head at what she saw: Dekker sprawled across the cool bathroom tile, looking like hell. Clicking her tongue she walked over and knelt down beside him and ran her fingers through his hair like a mother comforting their sick child,
Hey, babe. Let’s get you up and into bed, ok? I’ll get you some water too.
Somehow, she coxed him into standing and led him into his room. Making sure he was comfortable before she left, she retreated into his kitchen and looked for glasses. Tearing through cabinets she finally found what she needed.
God how she hated violating kitchens that weren’t hers.
Filling the cup with water from the tap, she retreated back into his room and handed him the water and then crawled into bed beside him, not stopping to think hat the reason she was cold was probably because she’d been walking around his house in her bra and thong without thinking twice. Closing her eyes and sighing, she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, with the initial horniness of the alcohol wearing off, she was glad to just be close to him.
I really am sorry about getting you sick. I’m a shitty date, I know.
At least she still had her good looks and personality to rest on if he didn’t like how she was drunk.
o742
notes: C:
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Post by rivalo on Jan 5, 2011 16:22:18 GMT -8
so take the photographs &&
still frames in your mind
hang it on a shelf
in good health and good timeDEKKER [/SIZE][/size][/center] Dekker jumped only slightly when a BANG erupted on the other side of the door, startling him out of the sleep he’d surprisingly been slipping into. His head lifted just slightly to squint at the big white door and realized Dessi was sliding down to sit in front of the door. Oh, he’d just puked his brains out and was now in the bathroom with her out there. He attempted to groan, but ended up leaning against the tub with nothing coming out of his mouth. He shook his head, the tawny hair flipping attractively (lucky bastard) to the side while he tried to clear his head. When his eyes opened, though, she was in the bathroom and in front of him, making him grin widely. When she called him babe it was really the only thing he caught along with the tingly feeling of her fingers through his hair and he only grinned more, obliging to being practically carried into his room. He giggled childishly as he tripped over the door jam, letting her place him into his bed and moving back down his hall. Snap out of it, Dekker!
He shook his head again and sat waveringly up and pushed the covers back, ripping his nice shirt off and managing to wrench a clean tee shirt on before collapsing back into the bed, his jeans and socks still on. His eyes closed, listening to the banging coming from the kitchen. He struggled to maintain consciousness and sat up again, slapping himself in the face while pulling the down comforter up to his waist where he sat. At the sound of padding feet his eyes focused, taking in the sight of mostly naked Dessiree and only managing to grin again, leaning his chin on his palm as he slumped over to watch her walk in. He’d really lucked out on finding someone as lovely as her. She brought him water and he downed the glass, something he hadn’t expected to do, but at least it would help with his surely disgusting breath. With a relieved sigh he fell back onto his pillow, pulling up the comforter as she pressed her face into his neck. His skin tingled dully at the feeling and it made him smile stupidly some more, but the fact that she was speaking made him focus and he concentrated on her words. ”You are not a shitty date.” he said slowly, going for proper pronunciation while sliding his arm under her head to wrap a strong arm comfortably around her. He liked the feel of her soft skin against him and pressed her closer, turning his head to kiss her softly, gently on the forehead.
He let his lips linger, eyes closing as he sighed and then moved his mouth lightly across her brow in an affectionate manner. With his other arm he reached carefully over - he didn’t want to move too fast and end up punching her - to brush the hair from her face. Dekker turned on his side, leaving his arm under her head but moving back enough so that he could see her face. He blinked a few times and then smiled sheepishly, ”You didn’t tell me you had a twin sister.” he said stupidly before realizing he was seeing double. He laughed, rubbing his eyes before opening them to see just one beautiful Dessiree in his bed. In his bed! ”Oh nevermind.” he said with a laugh, then reached over to touch her cheek lightly. He stared at her now, perhaps a little longer than intended but with drunk people you never really know what they’re thinking!
”I sure do -- “ he started, then cut himself off with a grunt and an expression of confusion. Maybe the confused look would throw her off. Re-focusing. ”You’re awfully gorgeous, you know that?” he said playfully, shaking a finger in front of her before smiling, ”Don’t answer that!” he said, not realizing he was muttering off and likely looking like a doof. ”Nevermind!” he said, as if he was going to say something when in reality he hadn’t said a damn thing. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his legs into hers after pulling the comforter up enough to keep her warm. He placed his cheek on her dark hair and sighed with contentment, ”I’m glad you’re here Dessi. So glad you’re here.” he said truthfully, his eyes closing as he said it. ”I think you should meet my parents. I think I should meet your parents.” he said drunkenly, but fully aware of what he was saying. He might regret it in the morning if she ended up terrified, but alcohol really loosened the inhibitions. Words of love lingered on the tip of his tongue, but the alcohol had begun to clear amidst his foggy mind and he realized where it was going, and instead decided to lay quietly with her, wishing he could pull her even closer than he already had her. [/SIZE] tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial
for what it’s worth,
it was worth all the while
comments: oh drunk dekker. drunk dekker.[/blockquote][/center] |
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Post by dessi on Jan 5, 2011 19:36:45 GMT -8
you’ve shown me eventually what you’ll do. Alerady she could feel the alcohol starting to wear off. The adrenaline of the sex-drive had ebbed away, and now she was left feeling empty, cold, tired, and sick. The hangover was always the one thing that she hated about drinking. She loved the way she felt when she was drunk. To her, she always felt like drunk Dessi had nothing to lose, drunk Dessi had no inhibitions, drunk Dessi didn’t care that she was once a heroin addict, drunk Dessi didn’t even acknowledge the fact that her parents had kicked her out of the house in her greatest time of need. No. Drunk Dessi was everything she wished she could be all the time. Sure, she acted like she boasted and brazenly declared lots of things about herself, but she rarely had the confidence behind her words to back up the way she was trying to make her feel. She was a messed up maze of emotions and thoughts…all wiped away when she was drunk.
And lucky for Dekker, she found drunk Dekker highly amusing and cute.
In fact, she was enjoying every minute of attention that she was getting from him, whether or not he would later mean what he said now. She felt that drunk men and women told no lies, and she knew that there was truth in his words when he spoke. A small smile lit up her eyes as she snuggled closer to him and listened to the sound of his chest rumble as he spoke. When his arm wrapped around her, she instantly felt safe, wanted (something she’d wanted to feel her whole life). With a puppy-love smile plastered across her darling little face, she listened to him babble, then couldn’t help but laugh (quite loudly) when he looked at her and said he never knew she had a twin sister,
No, dear. That’s just the alcohol playing tricks on you. Though, believe me, I wish there were times when I had someone that looked and acted just like me so that way when I did something wrong I could blame it on her. Funny story, when I was a kid I had an imaginary friend named Dez. I told my mom she was be, but invisible. Dez always did the bad things. Now that I think about it, my mother really hated my ‘Dez’ excuse. I just think she doesn’t have a sense of humor.
The pleased look slid off of her face as he mentioned that he’d like to meet her parents.
Even his drunken compliments on how pretty she was were lost as a cold wave of terror shot through her veins. Her head spun as she thought of what would happen when she finally went back to visit her parents. She’d imagined what the encounter would be like several times. Most of the outcomes all had her end up worse off than she was when they kicked her out in the first place. Most of the time she imagined that her mother probably wouldn’t even let her in, much less answer the door. If she did have any hopes of stepping foot into the house she’d been thrown out of she’d have to catch it just right, like when her parents weren’t home and it was just her brother. He’d let her in because he loved her. With all of that swirling around in her mind she began to shake slightly, closing her eyes tightly she whispered in a quiet and terrified voice,
No…no. Please, no. Why? Why would you want to meet them?
Never mind meeting his parents. She’d probably end up loving them and wanting them for her own while being equally jealous of Dekker for having such supportive parents. In fact, she’d probably end up asking them to be their adopted daughter. It was what could (or rather, would) happen if she went back to her parent’s house again. She’d figured that after many paychecks and pre-publication books ignored, she’d got their motives loud and clear.
They really wanted nothing to do with her.
o678
notes: and they were cuddling just fine until he brought that up ;D
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Post by rivalo on Jan 6, 2011 18:01:59 GMT -8
so take the photographs &&
still frames in your mind
hang it on a shelf
in good health and good timeDEKKER [/SIZE][/size][/center] She seemed to be enjoying his attention and he sure as hell was enjoying hers. Especially in the wee hours of the morning as they were, thoughts flickered across his mind of how he wanted her to stay with him all the time, every night; he would give her a key tomorrow, actually. Drunk Dekker seemed to forget that this was only their first date, even if they had already been friends for quite some time. In his brain he'd been ready to keep her since he met her, but in Dessi's mind that kind of thing surely hadn't even come about just yet.
She started telling him a story and he smiled, feeling the alcohol beginning to ebb more but words about her mother other added fuel to his thought of meeting her parents. He wasn't sure what he'd do when he went to their doorstep, especially since they hadn't wanted anything to do with their beautiful daughter in so many years, but there was nothing like time to make an adult come to their senses. When people get closer to death, they seem to realize that it was people who mattered - not their money or their pride. Surely if they saw Dessi on their doorstep sober and lovely with a decently put together aspiring veterinarian they would want something to do with her. How could anyone not want Dessiree around? It was an idea he simply could grasp, especially while intoxicated.
With her closer than ever and his eyes closing, he almost didn't notice her quiet and terrified words. He felt her tremble and pulled her closer, wrapping his arms all the way around and being sure the comforter was up to her chin. He sighed, not liking the ugly feeling creeping into his gut and the ache attempting to begin in his lower back and neck after skidding across the floor. It was only after he realized she was already quite warm and the tone she took that he really started paying attention. He frowned, tiredly giving her a little more space to let her breathe and look at her more soberly. What had he done? Should he take it back? Pretend he didn't know what he was saying? With the drink ebbing away, he realized precisely what he'd said and what it would mean and wanted to take it back. All this progress and he'd throw it away in one drunk moment.
Might as well stick to his guns. Pride was one thing men could never avoid.
"Well, I mean, why wouldn't I want to meet them? I don't know what kind of people wouldn't want you around. Might as well let them see what they're missing.." he said, trailing off into an unflattering yawn he quickly attempted to stifle with a cough, hand reaching up to cover his mouth. "My bad." he said sleepily, again slowly moving his free hand up to run his fingers gently through her dark hair. When it came down to it he was a little old fashioned and would like a man's permission to marry his daughter, even if that wasn't for years. He might only get one chance to ask, just in case. Feeling more physically crappy but more clear headed than before, he wanted to emphasize the fact that he meant what he said and scooted closer before she could say anything else. His lips pressed tenderly to her forehead and lingered there for several moments before whispering sleepily, "It would all be fine. I promise." he said reassuringly, hoping to hell he wouldn't fall asleep. [/SIZE] tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial
for what it’s worth,
it was worth all the while
comments: TSK TSK DEKKER![/blockquote][/center] |
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Post by dessi on Jan 6, 2011 18:52:43 GMT -8
you’ve shown me eventually what you’ll do. Why was it she was so adamantly against seeing her parents? Was it because she felt that any exchange between them would only end up in a fight about how they’d treated her when she needed them most, or was it because she was afraid that they’d show a sense of remorse for what they’d done to her? If the latter occurred, then that would give her no one to blame all of her personal and personality problems on. The way she operated, she always needed someone (other than herself) to blame all of her larger issues on. Nothing was ever her fault directly, it was always twisted with someone else’s tainted touch. To forgive her parents would mean that she’d have to let go of her ‘abandoned’ issues and accept the fact that she is wanted and not everyone she meets wants to just use her up then throw her away.
She worked in irrational thought like that.
Though, she’d never been a very rational person to begin with; even before she’d started to use drugs. But as a child, the things she’d overreacted about were always small things like stubbing her toe twice in one day (she had a fear of walls for a short while after that). Sadly, when she started to grow older, her problems grew too. She used the fact that she wasn’t very popular and desperately wanted to fit in as the reason that she got into drugs. To further demonstrate her irrationality she’d gone and used drugs in her parent’s household when she knew full well that they’d be home very soon. Of course, if someone asked her to explain her irrational thought, she’d only sit and flail around like a scared fish out of water simply because then she’d be forced to reconsider her original actions. And to do that would admit that she was wrong.
In her mind, she was never wrong.
Dekker felt the tiny tremors of fear as they shook her muscles and pulled her closer, assuming she was cold. Closing her eyes she tried to calm her terror and still the shivering. While she appreciated the closeness that transpired between them, she did not appreciate the idea he was pushing on her. Feeling sick to her stomach, she shook her head, but didn’t move as he pressed his lips to her forehead. She shook her head and finally broke the closeness and simply said,
No, it’s just not happening.
Not wanting to face the issue anymore, she rolled over onto her side, facing away from him and pretended to fall asleep. Anything he did or said, she ignored; it was how she handled with probably being forced to face the fact that she could be wrong about something (her parents, in this case).
Though she pretended to sleep, actual sleep refused to relieve her of her guilt.
Tired eyes watched the time on the clock slowly grow into the hours of the early morning. Finally, around six am, she was no longer able to simply lay there. Quietly sitting up in bed she slid out and padding into the living room, she curled up on his couch under the blanket he’d pulled out for them earlier. Running a hand through her hair, she quietly began to cry. What was she supposed to do with someone who genuinely wanted to be in her life? Her lack of trust for every person she’d ever come across refused to allow her to simply accept that he wanted nothing from her in return other than her general company and love (which she’d give to him and then some). Staring out into the dark room she whispered,
Why is this so hard?
o619
notes: you only make it difficult on yourself dessi. It’s really not that hard.
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Post by rivalo on Jan 8, 2011 18:39:48 GMT -8
so take the photographs &&
still frames in your mind
hang it on a shelf
in good health and good timeDEKKER [/SIZE][/size][/center] Dekker frowned, unhappy that she was pushing away from him so upset, but fear prickled at the corners of his mind at the movement. He was losing her, that quickly he was losing her to a drunken comment. Panic tried to rise up within his exhausted mind but as she rolled over, he sensed the only thing he could do was let her have her alone time, not pressure her, even though his heart screamed to plead with her, pull her back in again and make her see. Force, though, would never work with Dessiree, and he would simply push her further from him. He sighed, whispering a soft apology to her pale back before gently running his hand along her bare side. With no reaction, though, he withdrew his hand and let her be, unfortunately falling asleep within minutes of their silence. He knew she wasn't sleeping, but he didn't know what to say to her.
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A few hours pass and Dekker starts awake, a quite horrendous dream he couldn't quite remember jolting him out of the slumber he'd been so deeply in. His senses came quickly back, though, and he realized what had happened mere hours before and that Dessiree should be in his bed. Dekker groaned, his hands covering his face from both the sickly headache and the realization of what state he'd left her in. He sat up, hair messy and eyes tired as he looked around and realized she wasn't in the room. Had she left? She could have called a cab he supposed.... Glancing at the clock he saw it was almost seven in the morning - convenient since he had to be at the clinic at ten, this would give him time to wake up even though he would kill for another hour - so he padded slowly out into the hall and peeked around the corner, heart pounding as he expected an empty living room. Surprisingly, though, she sat curled on the couch with wet eyes. Had she slept at all? Should he ask if she's alright? Should he go back to his room for another hour?
Sucking up his courage, he probed quietly out to her, his voice shattering the silence that stretched through the house. "Dess?" he said tentatively, rubbing his eyes with anxiety, "Um, want some breakfast?" he asked hesitantly, still peeking around the doorway as if a child caught sneaking to watch a late night episode of cartoons. His eyes looked pleadingly out at her turned head, hoping against hope that she'd give him something to do. When she said nothing (or rather he was afraid of the silence she might let linger) he tried again "Listen, I was out of line earlier, just forget what I said about.. you know.. your parents and stuff. It's not a big deal or anything." he said with a shrug, running his hand anxiously through his hair, desperate to just get past this and get back to where they were before. He wanted to wake up and cuddle with her, make her breakfast and maybe even give her a kiss before he headed to work. Very domestic, he knew, but he wanted it to be anything than it was at the moment.
He sighed again, frustrated and terrified of what she would surely say next. [/SIZE] tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial
for what it’s worth,
it was worth all the while
comments: AH'S THINKIN... she could be like 'NO DEKKER!' and run away and then they can meet up again later, maybe while he's with a client or something but they can't really talk and she can be all cold and stuff. OR, LIKE, we could jump to injuries? but i'm totally fine with drawing out dekker's frustration and dessi's terror longer. xD WHATEVER FLOATS YA BOAT! or they could eat breakfast and it be all awkward and she say it's fine and pretend nothing happened until they see each other again. xD or you can skip to pony violence and injuries and we can draw it out from there. xD HOLLA AT ME[/blockquote][/center] |
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a grey female named Sophie, and a hairless female named Lacey <3