confessions after dark;

She kept close to him. Hearing his name. "That's a fitting name.." The xtc made her jaw grind more. Taking his cue to go to a less populated dancefloor. "So you're my knight in shining armor then?"

“Don’t laugh,” Jules said, setting her sketchpad down on the table. “But…okay, you probably have heard that I’ve started seeing this guy, and we’re going on our first date tonight. Thing is..”

She exhaled slowly in an effort to release the nervousness that she was feeling.

“…I haven’t been kissed. Ever. And I don’t want him to think I’m some smelly fish with these cold, inexperienced lips of mine.” Okay, so she was babbling now, and she turned her body to face him fully.

Ever since she moved in next door to him, she’d gotten to know Jack very well, to the point where she trusted him enough with her life and her secrets…and her inexperience. It was why she hadn’t thought it was odd for her to even consider him for this request because she knew that he wouldn’t think badly of her once she asked him.

“Copper! Oh no, not again!” Riley sighed, letting her arms fall to her sides in defeat. Her orange tabby had made it a habit of sneaking into her neighbor’s backyard – lately, it had been his house, of all places! – whenever it wanted. This meant that she had to knock on his front door to ask for it back, which was something she knew was tiresome.

So far, James hadn’t had really complained outright, but today could very well be the day for it. Rather than go next door empty-handed, she took one of the apple pies she’d been baking and walked next door, appreciating how the cool English countryside air chased away the heat from her oven.

That afternoon, the house held a comfortable, lazy warmth. The heating had kicked in just enough to make a shirt feel unnecessary. James strollled barefoot across the wooden floors wearing nothing but a pair of dark jeans, his torso bare, the faint scars from old operations catching the soft light as he moved. He pulled out a chair at the dining table, settled in with a fresh mug of coffee, and let the quiet wrap around him like an old, well-worn coat.

The unexpected noise of something pressing against his garden's glass doors made him raise his ocean blue hues from the screen to the sight of an orange cat, then turned upon hearing the doorbell. Most likely, it was the owner of that cat again. "I suppose he enkoys being rather troublesome." He muttered to himself, the former spy's lips curving into a smirk as he lifted himself up from the seat, leaving the mug and the laptop behind to open the door, the sight of his blonde neighbor not catching him off guard. Although, he hadn't bothered to cover his torso.

"I follow the news when it concerns or involves me, Miss Vale. I am quite well known for my... exploits, shall we say. But me and Vicki have a history. I would like to leave it at that for now...."

He dated Vicki back in the day. A fling for a bit as he hoped it would doubt her suspicions of him being and certain vigilante. And it worked. All she saw was a billionaire playboy who likes to party and fast cars and women. But he was older now. Mature. And sought a different kind of companionship. And the more they spoke, Veronica seemed to be what he wanted.

With smooth confidence, she reached out and wrapped her fingers lightly but firmly around his forearm, feeling the solid muscle beneath the fabric of his sleeve. Her touch lingered there, her thumb brushing once in a slow, teasing stroke along the inside of his arm. “Careful with promises like that,” she murmured. “A Vale woman doesn’t forget easily… and we tend to collect on them.”

Kat was enjoying herself. This is what she needed. Just to get away from Gotham for a bit. Miami had the best nightclubs really on the East Coast. Damian approached her. His breath smelled like club soda and lime. At least, that's what she picked up on with his approach. Her senses were heightened off the xtc.

"Hey, good looking.." She greeted him back with her own smile. It made her wonder why a guy who didn't drink alcohol was hanging out at the club. Already, he was asking her questions and assuming this was her first time in Miami.

She kept dancing though just in the mood to. "Actually no..not my first time..just haven't been here in a while.."

"What's your name?" She was being friendly still. "Wanna show me what's changed since the last time I was here?" She had some legal troubles, mostly pertaining being a sibling to a Greek mafia member for starters. She had worked hard to clear her name on her parents murders.

Without warning, he stepped away from the wall, still buried deep inside her. The sudden shift in position made her clutch at his shoulders, a startled gasp escaping her throat. He carried her across the room, her weight nothing against the surge of adrenaline and desire pumping through his veins. Her inner walls clenched around him with each step, the friction nearly unbearable.

He spotted the heavy oak table across the room and moved toward it with purpose. With one sweep of his arm, he cleared its surface—papers scattered, a glass tumbling to the floor. The crash barely registered in Duncan’s mind as he laid Lorraine across the table’s surface, her back meeting the cold wood. Her hair spilled around her like dark water, her chest heaving with each ragged breath.

He gripped her hips hard enough to leave marks, angling her pelvis upward. From this position, he could drive deeper, control the pace with brutal precision. The table was the perfect height. Duncan watched her face as he pulled back slowly, almost completely withdrawing before slamming back into her. The impact jolted her entire body, sending her sliding an inch up the table. He caught her before she could move too far, dragging her back onto his cock with a force that made the table legs scrape against the floor.

“This what you wanted?” he asked, voice rough with exertion. He shifted his angle slightly, searching for that spot that had made her eyes roll back moments before. “There it is." He changed his angle once more, lifting one of her legs higher, hooking her knee over his shoulder to open her wider. The new position let him drive even deeper, hitting places that made her thrash beneath him. The table creaked dangerously with each powerful thrust, but Duncan couldn’t have cared less if it collapsed beneath them.

When he hooked her leg over his shoulder she let out a sharp, surprised laugh that turned into a moan as the new angle drove him impossibly deeper, the head of his cock dragging relentlessly over that perfect spot inside her with every thrust. Her free hand flew to his shoulder, fingers biting into muscle as her head fell back against the wood, mouth open, eyes half-lidded but locked on his face. “Harder,” she demanded, voice wrecked and commanding at once. “Don’t you dare fucking hold back now.”

foster sat and twitched and gasped as her professor worked her over. clearly she knew exactly what it was she was doing. between the way she pulled down the panties, kissing her hips, speaking against her skin to cause those soft vibrations, and then there was the way her tongue snaked over her arousal. in that especially, foster couldn't hold back her noises. the tiny gasps from before became loud and open, legs twitching more and more. her hips pushed forward a little bit as the older woman worked. yes, to give her more access she seemed to want, but also just without thought. it was hard to deny the want of more as she blew her. "oh, oh professor...-you are so good at this," she confessed. not yet even able to properly answer her yet. first she had to compliment the professor and how actually skilled she was at this.

Roxanne leaned in and dragged her tongue slowly up the entire length of Foster’s cock, swirling around the swollen head before sucking it deep into her mouth with a throaty groan. She bobbed once, twice, hollowing her cheeks, then pulled off again, letting a thick string of saliva connect her lips to the slick tip.