Maeve
Another giggle, another wrinkle of her nose, and a playful shove at his shoulder. "Your opinion is biased, mon amour." She tells him, rolling her eyes even as she tugs off her shirt, leaving her in nothing more than a bit of scrapy lace that covers her tits. It's better than all the layers. Maeve snuggles against him, tucking her head against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. He's right, the heat will become stifling, but there were options for it. A dip in the ocean, a shower, striping naked... All of them viable. "Not all whores manage such a thing." She hums softly, drawing back just enough to look up at him as their fingers lace, giving his hand a little squeeze. "I'm not sure. I haven't told too many people that I'm aligned with her."
The idea of him being a housecat isn't unappealing. She's always liked cats. A jaguar is more suitable, though. If only because it can actually do some damage. Real damage. "Isn't that a thought? You as a housecat... I wonder what color you'd be." Maeve muses softly, playing with his fingers idly as they lounge lazily together on the couch, a soft breeze coming in through the open window. "I like it. Like it a lot."
The idea of him being a housecat isn't unappealing. She's always liked cats. A jaguar is more suitable, though. If only because it can actually do some damage. Real damage. "Isn't that a thought? You as a housecat... I wonder what color you'd be." Maeve muses softly, playing with his fingers idly as they lounge lazily together on the couch, a soft breeze coming in through the open window. "I like it. Like it a lot."
But the cut of your love never hurts, baby
it's a sweet butter knife
it's a sweet butter knife
