[ There's a definite moment of uncertainty when he starts, a brief pause where Pelan feels that maybe this will be more awkward than it is enticing, but Lucas saves it with pure charisma. Music would distract from that faint awkwardness, cover it. But as soon as his shirt's off, she's forgotten about it anyway.
Generally speaking Pelan doesn't prefer men. If she had to choose (and thank the gods she doesn't), she's more often to chase down women. There's an appeal to that softness, the delicacy. Lucas is all bulk by contrast, but the curves of his body draw her eye, the shadows they cast giving the impression that even though he is thick, he's lean.
She shifts where she sits, her eyes accepting the invitation down into his waistband just in time to catch the way he gropes himself meaningfully.
She laughs. ]
I hope you will.
[ But as she says it, she's skimming her hands over her own abdomen to release the clasps on the band covering her chest. It falls away forgotten, and her hands slide up to cup her modest breasts. The gaps between her fingers exposed dusky, pert nipples, a few shades darker than her skin. The constant brush of her fingertips draws them to stiff nubs in short order.
Importantly, it doesn't look like she's doing this for him. She'd expose herself more, if that were the case. Rather, she gives the impression that she's really just allowing him a glimpse into a genuine response to the presentation of his naked body. ]
no subject
Generally speaking Pelan doesn't prefer men. If she had to choose (and thank the gods she doesn't), she's more often to chase down women. There's an appeal to that softness, the delicacy. Lucas is all bulk by contrast, but the curves of his body draw her eye, the shadows they cast giving the impression that even though he is thick, he's lean.
She shifts where she sits, her eyes accepting the invitation down into his waistband just in time to catch the way he gropes himself meaningfully.
She laughs. ]
I hope you will.
[ But as she says it, she's skimming her hands over her own abdomen to release the clasps on the band covering her chest. It falls away forgotten, and her hands slide up to cup her modest breasts. The gaps between her fingers exposed dusky, pert nipples, a few shades darker than her skin. The constant brush of her fingertips draws them to stiff nubs in short order.
Importantly, it doesn't look like she's doing this for him. She'd expose herself more, if that were the case. Rather, she gives the impression that she's really just allowing him a glimpse into a genuine response to the presentation of his naked body. ]