[ he's never had sex before, yet he knows what he likes. it's the opposite with ishmael, who had sex once (1) before she became a sailor in an effort to feel something in the midst of her ennui. it was forgettable enough not to count in most cases, but she can't pretend that she's still a virgin either. unlike him, she doesn't know what she likes in bed. she's been rolling with the punches this whole time, like how she deals with the dangerous doldrums at sea.
still, she lies down as instructed, her shirt hiked up to her waist and revealing her plain cotton panties. nothing too exciting there. but perhaps the one thing she has over most people here are her freckles -- from her inner thighs to her chest and shoulders that are usually heavily covered with clothing, with a smattering of moles on her stomach and on various locations on her skin like dark paint splattered onto canvas. the faint scars that criss-cross over her body are hard to miss as well, but every person in the City would have had their shares of those. it's nothing special.
this is nothing special, ishmael insists. yet her heartbeat picks ups as heathcliff makes quick work of her shirt, looking pointedly away when he finally unbuttons the last one and his eyes focus in on her nakedness. she's exposed her chest a couple of times during those stupid card games previously, but this is the first time anyone's seen her in her panties, and it's... a little daunting, not gonna lie. ]
Don't tell me you're just going to stare at my crotch all day.
[ yet she's going to give him a better look by putting both her ankles on his shoulders, as a way to entice him. if he wishes to check, she... isn't wet yet, but how can she when they're starting this off so awkwardly............. ]
no subject
still, she lies down as instructed, her shirt hiked up to her waist and revealing her plain cotton panties. nothing too exciting there. but perhaps the one thing she has over most people here are her freckles -- from her inner thighs to her chest and shoulders that are usually heavily covered with clothing, with a smattering of moles on her stomach and on various locations on her skin like dark paint splattered onto canvas. the faint scars that criss-cross over her body are hard to miss as well, but every person in the City would have had their shares of those. it's nothing special.
this is nothing special, ishmael insists. yet her heartbeat picks ups as heathcliff makes quick work of her shirt, looking pointedly away when he finally unbuttons the last one and his eyes focus in on her nakedness. she's exposed her chest a couple of times during those stupid card games previously, but this is the first time anyone's seen her in her panties, and it's... a little daunting, not gonna lie. ]
Don't tell me you're just going to stare at my crotch all day.
[ yet she's going to give him a better look by putting both her ankles on his shoulders, as a way to entice him. if he wishes to check, she... isn't wet yet, but how can she when they're starting this off so awkwardly............. ]