[ Even despite the other man's efforts to match his mood to Keita's, it's obvious both from the duration of the pause (shorter than before, but still lengthy) and from the tone of his voice that he's a little on the back foot. Keita can't blame him for that—the script had been light on detail, after all, containing only instructions for Keita to use a personal anecdote, and the anecdote Keita has chosen is certainly a salacious one.
He shifts slightly and re-crosses his legs, considering the level of detail he wants to get into. It's easier when they're not looking at each other—if they were face to face, Keita would almost certainly not be able to say anything at all. ]
I had thought it might be, [ Keita admits. ] But no, not sticky. Just... smooth, and a bit slick.
[ Even now, he can feel his face flushing, both at the memory and with mild embarrassment at recounting it. Or maybe that has something to do with the slight fragrance of flowers that's beginning to permeate the confessional. ]
They're very, ah... flexible, the tentacles. Capable of touching in a way a person's hands might not. And all those suckers... I'm quite sensitive anyway, so...
no subject
He shifts slightly and re-crosses his legs, considering the level of detail he wants to get into. It's easier when they're not looking at each other—if they were face to face, Keita would almost certainly not be able to say anything at all. ]
I had thought it might be, [ Keita admits. ] But no, not sticky. Just... smooth, and a bit slick.
[ Even now, he can feel his face flushing, both at the memory and with mild embarrassment at recounting it. Or maybe that has something to do with the slight fragrance of flowers that's beginning to permeate the confessional. ]
They're very, ah... flexible, the tentacles. Capable of touching in a way a person's hands might not. And all those suckers... I'm quite sensitive anyway, so...