cuddletalk | video | un: vaquero

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video | un: vaquero

[ The sheepish look on his face is not one that he's proud of, especially because of what's happening immediately behind him. There's a dog on its back, all four legs in the air, and its chewing on the rope of his lasso. He only wishes that he could say this has happened to him before. ]

If anyone's seeing this, I could use a little help to get out of this...situation.

[ The dog barks. ]

I don't know if I'll get arrested for this, but I think this animal might belong to someone and is lost, so any distractions for the police would be very appreciated.

[ Another bark, like the dog approves and is enjoying its upside-down antics, kicking its legs in the air like it enjoys it. With a wary look back at the screen, Vasquez gives one last pleading look of help in a single expression. ]

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[ And there she stays until he moves her, laying her down on the bed with a goal she can already see, making her relax against the sheets, stretch her arms above her head, eyes unfocused on the ceiling. Her thighs spread easily when his hands part them, and she knows she’s still wet and hot, wondering if that is exactly what he’s after.

She sighs out a content chuckle, nodding, more to herself than him. ]

Oh, this is more than fine.

[ She hasn’t realized how much she wanted to feel his mouth on her until this very moment, but it makes her suddenly impatient. ]

[He cocks his head to the side, like he's so self-satisfied with his decision that even though no one's going to see it, he feels intent on bragging about it, even silently. Once, a long time ago, a whore had told him that the best way to please a woman was to say a Hail Mary down there.

Vasquez doesn't exactly recite that, but he works his tongue like he's praising Claire, his fingers pressing hard against her hips so that she'll have proof, tomorrow, of what they did here today.]

[ At the first touch of his tongue, Claire gasps, sensitive and reactive. She relaxes into the sheets further, pressing her hips down closer to his mouth, exhaling in long, drawn-out, pleased moans of contentment. The way his fingers hold on to her hard enough to bruise feel like a good retaliation to the scratches she’s dug on his back, but it doesn’t stop her from rocking her hips a little anyway.

She reaches up, toying with one of her nipples with one hand, the other burying itself in Vasquez’s hair as she moans louder, arching her back in an attempt to get more, more, more. ]

[It's been a very long time since he had a woman like this. In his outlaw days, there'd been no one, and before that had mostly been whores or men that he could have a tumble with, but never anyone that he wanted to impress so much.

Every once in a while, he lets his gaze flick up to her chest, watching as she touches herself. Still, even that isn't something he can think about, because when her fingers sink into his hair, he finds his eyelids fluttering, losing a little control himself as he works his tongue faster.]

[ She’d like to say she doesn’t want, or need to be impressed, but she knows it’d be a lie. She wants him to be good, to make her come, multiple times. She wants to come back to him time and again, because she likes Vasquez and she doesn’t want to be disappointed.

And so far, she’s got to say, she really isn’t. Her fingers massage his scalp more than anything else, tiny presses this way and that, suggestion than guiding him, because he’s got her on the ropes already, panting, arching, hips rocking up and down and moving against his mouth. She’s loud about it, too, uncaring now if any of her neighbors hear them. ]

Oh yeah you - I’m - [ She bites her lip, groaning as the tension builds. ]

[Every time her fingers dig deeper into his scalp, touch his hair a little more, he's moved to moaning, which in turn only helps what he's doing (and where he is), and it's more than a little bit of an aphrodisiac, driving his tongue and working it a little harder, a little more enthusiastically, and maybe just with a little less control.

He's always been jealous of women for this, because while she's ready to come again, he's nowhere near able to, but he wants to bring her off as best as he can and he's not going to take failure for an answer.]

[ There is no way this would result in failure. She's completely lost in the sensations, the heat, the way his tongue moves against her, the way he moans, just making it all stronger, vibrating just right against her clit. She rocks and writhes and moans, herself, pressing against his mouth, asking without words for him to fuck her with his tongue, just like that, just - ]

Just like that!

[ Claire shudders, hairs raised all over her body as she arches, getting close enough she can taste it, now. ]

[Now that she's moving like this, making demands known like that, Vasquez can't stop. He might not even unless she asked him very firmly, but right now, there's nothing more that he wants than to really fuck her with his tongue, determined as he works her, his every stroke and curl and lick a deliberate, hard thing, sliding his hand down so he can have a little help, just a little.

Might as well make sure he's paying her all the attention he can, otherwise she might not be satisfied.]

[ With the help of his fingers, with the hard work of his tongue, it isn't much longer until Claire is shaking apart again, her whole body jerking as she comes, her fingers tight in his hair now, pulling to the point she spares a thought about how she might be hurting him.

She's loud, too, his name and God's on her tongue, her voice broken, cracking on the words. ]

[When he eases back a little, the tug on his hair is even harder than before, but it only makes him smirk a little wider, a little more wicked for what he's been doing. When she's finished and he's cleaned her a little, he eases back and sprawls at her feet, absently tweaking her toes teasingly.]

If you give me a minute to get myself together, I'll get a cloth, then we can decide never to move again for the night.

[ Her body jerks a little in reaction to Vasquez not pulling away immediately, until she can't take it anymore and she moans brokenly again, pulling at his hair. He pulls back, though, grinning like the cat who's got the canary, and Claire breathes out loudly, ending on a chuckle as she stretches, pleasantly burning everywhere. ]

Take a minute, take ten - I'm not moving, for sure.

Ten minutes is a very long time to be up.

[After all, he's also been put through the wringer and his legs are feeling a little wobbly. He doesn't bother with clothes as he heads to the bathroom for a piss, then a quick wash, bringing back a cloth once he's cleaned himself up a little.

He works it over her legs slowly, having been careful to get it to a good temperature, taking his time to wash her body before he sets it aside and curls up behind her, making some space for her.]

Come here, settle in, would you?

[ Claire has to admit his care is welcome - almost surprising, in a way, that this old-fashioned cowboy would take the time, but she appreciates it all the same, eyes taking him in as he cleans her up, quiet settling in the room.

It's easy to scoot closer, until her back is pressed to his front. She reaches back, wrapping his arm around her waist, and sighs contently. ]

Next you're going to tell me that you're planning on cooking me breakfast, too.

That's a step that I don't do. Unless you like beans in a can? And burned, probably.

[That had been the extent of his ability on the road, where Emma had taken care of the cooking on their way into Rose Creek and the other women had done it after. He's more than happy to eat, but he's not the cooking type. Wiggling in a little more, he wraps his arms around her, getting comfortable in his cuddling.]

How about I'll be here and I'll have my morning cigarette outside of bed?

[ CLaire chuckles, bringing his hand up with hers to kiss the back of it, before letting go, sighing contently, her body still humming a little. ]

Well, it's a good thing I can whip up a decent breakfast. The perks of parents owning a diner.

[ She grunts gently. ]

You can have your morning cigarette on the balcony.

On the balcony, yes, fine.

[He's mumbling the words into her shoulder as he curls in, his eyes already shut. He's not long for sensible words, so he hopes that she can understand the mumbling that he's offering, because it's the best he can do.]

You can tell me about the diner in the morning.

[ She hums, feeling herself growing sleepier by the second, his regular breaths lulling her. ]

Sure.

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video | un: vaquero

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