metharchy | [ DRAFT 16 ] The Woman's Work Is Never Done

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[ DRAFT 16 ] The Woman's Work Is Never Done

Buffet is open again, and the library is next.

Miniature golf course and deck seventeen are still closed until further notice.

[That said and done, Meth was going to enjoy the rest of her day off and retreated to her treehouse.]

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[He doesn't get a chance to reply before she bites down on his lip again. A contented sound escaped his lips and with his free hand he drew her that little bit closer. Tyler doesn't mind the way they're positioned right now, and he's still grinning through the bite.

His other hand still holds her fist, just in case she's gearing up for another strike. Not that he would mind, but with his lip between her teeth, the action could take this horribly south.]

[Meth scoots her hips down his body just a bit so she isn't hunched over his head. It's in the interests of comfort, honest. It doesn't stop her from happily chewing on Tyler's lip, however, especially after hearing him sigh like that.

Originally she'd been intending to distract him with all of this and then rear up to continue hitting him in the face, but Meth didn't really want to anymore. It was much more fun to gnaw on his lower lip some, and then slide her tongue over it. Again, it was something she'd done last time, but Meth enjoyed doing so, and felt no need to switch up her routine to impress Tyler.

This wasn't about him after all. Right now, what Meth was enjoying was toying with his mouth, and of course that she was on top. Meth wasn't dead. She appreciated the contact as much as the next woman would.]

[This is good. Tyler likes this. Somewhere at the back of his mind, a tiny voice is reminding him of his opinion on women. That voice however, is quickly suppressed. Provided Jack doesn't get attached, they shouldn't have a problem, and really, Meth doesn't seem the type to go for a guy like Jack.

Smooth sailing. Tyler can continue without worry.

He responds with a little more force than before, his own tongue sliding out to meet his lips, her lips, her tongue. The taste of blood triggers another sound and his hand shifts to idly run his fingertips slowly up and down her spine.]

[Meth had such a strict policy about interactions with passengers, but Tyler had already managed to get past these issues once, and it put her on a slippery slope. She didn't seem to care about that slope this time around and decided to throw caution to the wind. Policies be damned, she had a crazy motherfucker on his back, beneath her, in her tree house and his blood was in her mouth. She wasn't stopping yet.

Meth felt the touch of his tongue soon enough, and she chose that moment to slide hers past his lips, tasting and exploring his mouth. The hand at her back drew shivers up and down her spine, and Meth's body shuddered in an involuntary reaction.

Carefully, Meth tried to draw her hand free of his.]

[Of this policy, Tyler was completely unaware. Finding out about it would result in an extreme case of smugness that he'd been the one to break the cycle without really trying at all.

Between the work of her mouth and the shiver, it was impossible for Tyler not to be aroused. Given the proximity, he'd be damn surprised if she hadn't picked up on that fact. He released her hand, bringing his own to fall to Meth's hip to firmly get a hold on the girl.]

[Meth was fairly certain this policy was a rather private one that not even all of the crew knew of, and as such it was highly unlikely that Tyler would ever find out. It was something she was very, very grateful for as Tyler would likely become insufferable if he ever found out.

She rather liked him as he was at that moment. Tyler was beneath her and aroused (yes she'd picked up on that fact) and part of that, she was sure, was because of their rougher activities. Her teeth on that lip, which she was sure would never heal at this rate, had to have contributed as well.

Meth shifted her hips above Tyler, restless, as his fingers pressed into her hip. She drifted from his mouth then and started traveling toward the fleshy side of his neck instead.

In the back of her mind, she wondered if punching him again or slapping him would spur him into kicking things up a notch with her or something.]

[The break from his mouth gave him a second to catch his breath. Her lips on his neck are noted and enjoyed and Tyler took this as an opportunity to speak.]

Not bad at all.

[He growled the words by her ear, unable to keep himself from grinning and shifted his hands to hitch under the material of her top and tug clothing upwards. That they were both still fully dressed was a bother to him. He was getting too worked up for the pace they were moving at.]

Just getting started.

[Meth was just fine with helping Tyler get her top off. She straightened up and with an impatient move, grasped the shirt he was already lifting, and stripped it off.

His shirt was next. Meth grabbed the hem of his top and started tugging it up. Her eyes moved down, taking in the skin she was exposing there with obvious curiosity. Would there be scars? Healing cuts? Bruises?]

Sit up.

[Tyler was more than eager to get his gear off, but played it cool. He moved in his own time, sitting up and dragging his t-shirt over his head. Beneath the clothing the man was scarred and bruised, the odd cut or graze from fighting or whatever crazy stunt he'd pulled in the past week or two clearly visible.

He discarded the shirt off to the side and reached to run his hands down her sides. Tyler smirked at her, satisfied with the view the lack of clothing presented before leaning in to catch her lips again while his fingers shifted to the clasp of her bra.]

[OOC: FADE TO BLACK, BUT HERE'S WHAT HAPPENED:

Meth: *clothes come off*
Tyler: *clothes come off*
Meth: *starts to fuck*
Tyler: *tries to flip her over--*
Meth: Stay down :| *smack*
Tyler: *laughs like the creepy bastard he is*
Meth: *eventually, orgasm*
Tyler: *orgasm--PUNCHED IN THE FACE BY METH*
Meth: 8)
Tyler: *yells twice as loud*
Meth: *Gets off him, opens pack of cigarette, smokes and opens the front door with her TK, then shoves his clothes out onto the porch* Thanks for the good time. *draaaag*
Tyler: *laughs* Give me a cig?
Meth: *tosses Tyler a cigarette and a lighter*
Tyler: Thank you ma'am.
Meth: *makes a face* I'm not that old.
Tyler: *snort lol*
Meth: *shoves door closed and starts getting her clothes back on*
Tyler: *has no issue with dressing on the front porch. Pants and shoes on, shirt can come later. contented whistle as he leaves*]

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[ DRAFT 16 ] The Woman's Work Is Never Done

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