May 19
Lemme try your boots on?
@sgt-riot
ha! sure thing, sugar, though i ain't think they'll fit you. mind the spurs, too. they ain't just for show.
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Lemme try your boots on?
@sgt-riot
ha! sure thing, sugar, though i ain't think they'll fit you. mind the spurs, too. they ain't just for show.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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bites you
oh hey there, darlin'. y'got plenty of a mouthful?
finally back from leave, feels good to be back
(Jason places his duffel in the back of Cain’s impala as the sound of early birds and critters fill the air. There’s a morning dew that clings to his arms, making his arm hair stand on end in the chill and make him feel strangely clammy.
It didn’t matter. The object of his desire, the person who had now owned his heart for the better part of a week and some change, had been helping him pack, had been getting the farm prepared for the two of them to part from the state. Jason had found it endearing, how Cain had worried and kept checking, re checking… He could watch Cain march circles for hours. But eventually, he speaks, after taking the cigar out from between his teeth.)
You ready?
@saw-shadow-company
Cain shuts the trunk around their shared stash with a laboured grunt. It's still... unnerving, leaving the ranch. It's always hard, especially when he stays for a long time. He knows he'll miss Miss Maise Mae. Lightning. Licorice. All the other critters and creatures. And even though Ryan will take good care of them--always does, really--it's still hard to bid them goodbye.
He jangles his spurs for a second before moving to the driver's side. "Yeah, I'm ready," he says, but he looks anxiously back at the house. Ryan's already here, leaning against the porch. With his hat and the scarf, it's impossible to see his face--but that's just how he is.
Think I need to take you out to the old stomping grounds. You’d be interested in something like that?
@saw-shadow-company
oh, hell yeah, jase. what's the old stompin' grounds? where we goin'?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
(Sex doesn’t come easily to Jason. It wasn’t always the case, but you become more than friends with people you shouldn’t have met, and suddenly the concept seems… crude. It wasn’t too dissimilar when him and Cain had started coming together in the night. Jason had started being taught more proper ways of intimacy, and he was more than eager to learn. 43 years of life and he’d only just started to understand how beautiful and essential lube is. Cain had his heart.
But tonight proved difficult. He couldn’t exactly describe how it happened. One moment, he was breathing heavily into Cain’s ear, muttering sweet nothings and doing his best to be more tactile- the next moment he was a deer in headlights. Frozen, still, staring down at Cain as dread and fear creeped up his spine, locked his limbs, put him into a cold sweat. He couldn’t muster anything to say, anything to think- other than fear. All he could feel was utter disgust and shame in himself. And, god, did he want to claw at himself.
It’s when he hesitantly tries to keep going that he feels a cautious hand on his chest and realizes any words Cain says sounds as if Jason was pulled into water. Muffled, incoherent. And he curses softly, ducking his head down to breathe, but nothing seems to work.)
@saw-shadow-company
Cain notices it immediately.
He notices when Jason's hips stutter, when he pauses and goes still. At first, Cain doesn't quite realise why--partners have stopped to tease him before. Make him beg. Draw it out.
But that--that doesn't feel quite right.
When Jason tries again is when it clicks for Cain.
"Oh, hey, Jase, easy," he groans out, a shudder running up his spine as he reaches a hand back to stop him. Blind, fumbling, his palm presses on sweat-slick skin. Jason's skin is almost clammy under his touch. "Easy. Take a breather, lovebug."
Jason's always a bit odd about their extracurriculars. He's forbidden Cain from looking at him. From facing him. So, despite how desperately he wants to see Jason's expression, check in on how he's feeling, Cain continues to face pointedly away.
"Jase? Do y'know what you need? Touch or no touch?"
(Jason presents the tiniest of bugs on his finger to Cain, the fondest little smile on his face as he watches it crawl around.)
Pirate bug. Hide what’s in your pockets.
(It seems his sense of humor has started to shine through just a tiny bit, even if delivered in a monotone and dry manner.)
@saw-shadow-company
Cain cranes his neck to see, watching the tiniest little tyke skitter on Jason's fingertip. Doesn't look more than a little speck to him.
"How'n the hell can y'tell somethin' that tiny?" He asks, bewildered as he lets out a light chuckle. As if to prove his point, he squints and tries to get closer. "Maybe I need glasses. Yer sight's better'n mine."
Phoenix had never been to a strip club before today. Always too busy, never interested enough. If he wanted to get his rocks off, he’d do it some other way. But sometimes his job puts him in odd places, and sometimes those odd places are some high end strip club where the patrons throw hundred dollar bills like they’re pocket change.
Somehow, he and Snake had managed to slip in without having to pay some stupid fee at the door, and are now just waiting for an opportunity to find their “client” of the night — some dude who Graves insisted they took care of for one reason or another.
“You think we can get away with ordering a drink or something?” Phoenix asks under his breath, trying to canvas the area for the target without looking at the on stage talent and getting flustered. “Bastard’s taking forever to show up.”
It’s proving to be a lot harder of a task than Phoenix had originally thought it would be.
Sitting in a strip club, shirt off and legs spread is a frequent enough occurrence for Snake that it's not hard. Probably why Graves wanted him for this mission in the first place--the experienced whore to keep the flustered, sheltered man in check. To balance him out.
Still amuses him to no end seeing the red on Phoenix's cheeks and the way he refuses to look at the stage. It's cute. If they weren't working, Snake would probably tease him about it. Maybe he still will--just not right now. Not when they're both still in pre-mission jitter phase.
"Mm, men like that don't run by our time, sugar," Snake drawls out as his eyes trace a pretty thing doing splits on stage. Damn. He's flexible, but not quite that flexible. "Their watches are just for show. All to prove they can drop a band on a timepiece only to be late anyways.