perfectible | (no subject)

[ ooc: continued from here

Betty watches him make a fool of himself as he flops down on the bed, her eyes narrowing for a moment before she shrugs it off. ]

Sit up. [ She commands sharply.] How are you going to watch me from that position? [ She points towards his pocket, where his phone must be.] Pick something for me to move to.

Edited 2018-04-17 06:59 (UTC)

[Oh, right. A female is here, waiting to do heterosexual things with him. Ronan bolts up and scoots to the edge of the bed to sit properly.

Music, yes. Music is a thing that stripping generally requires, if movies have taught him anything. He pulls out his phone and settles on something dark and sexy, which conveniently makes up at least half of his music collection. Then he sets the phone aside and rests his hands on his thighs. He's not sure if that's where they should go, but anywhere else feels a little awkward.]

[ She's almost surprised he picks something appropriate. But it works and now that he's sitting up, she can get to work. Thanks to years of dance lessons and her River Vixens training, Betty knows how to move with music, to find the rhythm quickly.

And she does, taking a step forward as her hands slowly slide down her own body, hips slowly swaying to the music. One hand, however, stays at her thigh, fingers toying with one of the strings that keep her dress held together at her legs. ]

Pull it, [ she orders him.]

[Ronan's heart skips a beat as she steps closer, her body moving in a way he recognizes as alluring. Back when he'd been dating the other boys and the possibility arose that girls might be entering their sex life, Ronan had been in a panic about this kind of situation. Now he isn't sure why. The fluttering in his stomach is more pleasant than not.

He does as she says and pulls the string. It feels a bit like he's unwrapping a present.]

[ She moves only in a way that helps him to unlace one side of her dress, slowly exposing her thigh and then giving him a flash of the thong she's wearing beneath. She steps away before the dress comes completely apart, hoping he'll catch the hint and keep hold of the string that when she turns.

If he does, the rest of the tie will be pulled from the dress completely. Which is exactly what she wants to happen. Either way, she's going to roll her hips and slowly "drop it down" before coming back up again, pulling at the string at the other side herself, her back still him. ]

[He gets it, he gets it. The dress starts to come apart and he's mesmerized. Boys never partake in these sorts of rituals, and if nothing else, he's fascinated by the way she moves. Of course, fascination isn't her aim, and it isn't the only thing he's feeling. Watching her from behind, he begins to imagine what a body like this might feel like when it's pressed against his. He's starting to feel very warm.]

[ She doesn't mind him fascinated, he's not being grabby which she also appreciates. She's the one in control and now that both laces are gone from the dress, she can turn around, the fabric still laying against her body in a way that's barely modest.

She fixes that quickly by dropping back down again, balancing perfectly on her heels before she slowly rolls her way back up. She has no pole to grab onto, to swing around, but instead, she rolls her hips, drawing the fabric up and down her body.

The third time she drops her body down, her hands find his legs, just above his knees before they smooth up his thighs. Then she's turned around in his lap, her ass pressed hard against his lap, grinding.]

[Ronan sucks in a sharp breath, his legs spreading wider and his hands dropping back to hold him upright as she slides onto his lap. He knew they called it a lapdance for a reason, and yet, there's so much more dancing on his lap involved than he anticipated. Betty doesn't stop moving, doesn't give his brain a second to catch up or to question. She grinds and he grows hotter, and she grinds again, coaxing him to want her.

He exhales with a shudder, downright fucking astonished by his own reaction. He's getting hard. He doesn't know how he could not get hard, with someone grinding up on him like this.]

[ As she grinds against his lap, she pulls the fabric of her dress that covers her backside upward. Now there's nothing but his clothes and her thong between his lap and her ass. The tempo of the music changes and she changes with it, grinding with more purpose, her hands sliding up and down her own body before they move hold her own legs, helping herself to lift a bit off his lap and give him more a show. ]

You can touch.

[If he had any inclination to care, he might worry that touching would break the spell. But such worries are far from his mind. Betty invites him, so Ronan reaches, running his hands up her thighs and marveling at the softness of her skin. His touch is only a graze at first, but he grows daring as he moves, cupping her ass in his palms.]

[ Betty has never done anything like this before but instinct drives her. She knows how to move, she knows what to do to turn a man on, even a man whose only shown interest in other men. He goes for her ass and she gently bounces it in his palms to the music, grinding against him again while still encouraging the grip. ]

[This isn't so different than touching a man. Not yet, anyway. Noah has felt this petite and soft in his hands, which is a thought that gets Ronan throbbing harder. He massages her cheeks experimentally, finding them supple and pleasant to squeeze, and every time she grinds against him, his tight jeans get just a bit tighter.]

[ It's about to get a little more different as her hands move to the flimsy excuse for string that holds the fabric at her chest together. With a sharp tug, she pulls the two knots from the holes and starts to pull, pull, pull until the front of her dress slides open even further, threatening to expose her bare chest even more, barely covering her nipples.]

Take it off of me.

[There's no hesitation. As soon as she invites him, Ronan reaches up to peel the dress off her body. He's eager to experience the rest, to find out what this is, to know what she feels like. His palms brush her breasts as the fabric falls away, sending a fresh jolt of excitement through him, because he's never touched a girl's breasts before. They don't feel like he expected them to feel.]

[ There's a satisfaction to someone doing exactly what you say. But Betty feels the sudden urge to see what he wants, the curiosity of knowing what might excite him, what she can show him. It's not exactly to help him feel pleasure so much as to know that she has the power to give that.]

Tell me what you want. [ As she says it, she guides his hands to her chest, to encourage him to touch and feel.]

[Spurred on, he cups her breasts in his palms, gently squeezing and familiarizing himself with their fullness, their weight. His cock throbs. He pinches one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing it to hardness. His cock throbs again.]

I...

[An unsurprising side effect of avoiding any form of pornography - especially the heterosexual kind - leaves every version of Ronan at a loss when it comes to verbalizing desire. Dirty talk is not part of his skill set, and his brain is considerably less functional when he's horny.]

I just want you.

[Help him.]

[ His inability to be specific is pathetic, she thinks. Some dirty talk would be really nice right about now. But that doesn't render him useless to her, not when she's horny and the idea of fucking him appeals to her on so many wicked levels. Think of all the people it might hurt, might teach a lesson to.

And think how good it might be to get a good, hard screw in before she finds somewhere to dance. She's never had that before. And Ronan seems unusually pliable in this moment, she has no doubt she can convince him to do what she wants. So she moves off of him then, climbing onto the bed beside him.]

Take off the rest of it. [ His clothes, hers.]

[As there isn't much left to take off of her, Ronan attends to himself first. His hands drop away from her and he shrugs off his jacket, then yanks off his muscle tee. Pathetic though he certainly is, his body is the best thing about him, and he knows it. He's more confident with his hard-cut muscles on display, a wicked grin flashing across his lips. He loosens his belt and unfastens his jeans, nudging his boots off as he slips free of the last of his clothes. No one has ever been disappointed to see him naked and he doesn't expect her to be the first.

He doesn't give her much time to admire him, though. Leaning over her, he lays his hands on her waist and caresses down her body until his fingers hook into the band of her panties. He peels them off her slowly, taking his time with it, because the anticipation has him harder than anything. He doesn't know if he's going to like this. He likes the not-knowing.]

[ Oh yes, there's something she likes. She won't be the first to complain about the way he looks naked, she is very much a fan. Even if she doesn't get the best look at him before he's moving back over her and pulling her thong right off, shimmying them down a lot more gracefully than she'd expect of a guy as hard as he appears to be.

She's only ever done this with one guy before so this out to be interesting. Whether or not she likes it will be another story. So once he gets the thong off of her, her own smile curves into something wicked.]

Have you ever been with a girl before?

Never.

[A fact that makes him feel both lost and excited. He can figure out the mechanics easily enough, but he doesn't know how to pleasure a woman, which is an entirely different matter. Confronted with her curves and her bare body, he doesn't know where to begin. His fingers graze her skin, running over her ribs to her breast, teasing her nipple. He assumes she'll tell him what she wants. She hasn't been shy so far.]

I'm guessing you've never touched one either. [ She slides a hand down her own body, letting him watch, wanting him to watch as he touches her in other ways. But her hand has a much lower goal and once her fingers slip between her thighs, she presses her legs slightly together to give herself a little more friction as she touches herself.]

That's a shame. We're very soft.

[He watches very closely. He wants to understand it, the pace and the pressure and the movements that can satisfy her.]

You are.

[Soft. Not unpleasantly. It isn't what he seeks out, but he isn't repulsed by it. The mysteries of her body might intimidate him, but he's not afraid. He learns from her, observing while he continues to play idly with her nipple, and once he believes he has some idea, his hand drops away to join hers between her legs.]

[ For this moment, she's content to play teacher but that might fade soon enough, the impatience that is a hallmark of this version of herself may shine through. For now, she's not interested in letting him just barrel forward when she wants to come herself.

She lets him touch her, guiding his hand to where hers had been, parting her legs more to give him better access, to show him where she wants to be touched.]

Here.

[Ronan doesn't know what makes here a particularly better spot than any other, but that's what she says, so that's what he does. He won't wear her patience thin. After all, he's a supernaturally quick study when he wants to be, so his fingers move precisely the way hers had, the way she wants them to. It's warmer than he expects, and wetter, and - most surprisingly - inviting even for him. His cock throbs with eagerness to be inside her.

He doesn't rush. She had shown him her pace and he takes his time in massaging her. Once he's confident and he can spare the focus, he bows down to kiss her. Not on the lips, but on the throat.]

[ Thankfully, he is a quick learner, it seems. And his fingers soon take the place of hers in touching her, which keeps her impatience at bay. She hums greedily, in confirmation that he's doing well, encouraging him to keep touching her as she rocks her hips a little into that touch.

Meanwhile, his mouth finds her throat and she reaches up to tug at his hair, experimentally, to see if he likes it or not, her voice a little more breathless than she intends it to be.]

Tell me how you want to take me, Ronan. Hard and fast? Slow? From behind? On top of me? How? Tell me.