Logs:Turnover Cheer
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| RL Date: 15 October, 2014 |
| Who: Tayte, Z'riah |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Everyone needs a little fun on turnover. |
| Where: Craft Complex and Tayte's Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 28, Month 13, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Moriyah/Mentions, Tahvra/Mentions, Tayre/Mentions, X'vae/Mentions, Yvalia/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Sex. Back-dated. |
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| So far Turnover has been kind of a bust for Z'riah. X'vae is off with a woman the greenrider hates and he hasn't found significant enough distraction to keep him from thinking about it in entirely too much detail since then. So now Z'riah, in all his brilliance, has found himself wandering in the direction he'd last seen his friend going, still decked out in his lovely dress and cloak, mask now held in his hand to make it easier to see where he's going. Women with one month olds don't get to go to parties. It's a rule. Well, Tayte doesn't, anyway, but she has given herself the night off, in any case. The girls are attending the small version of celebration prepared for littles without escorts down to the big party proper, Yvalia having begged since all her friends were going to be there. So it's just Tayte and Tayre tonight. It looks as though they'd gone for a walk and are now taking a bit of a rest on one of the benches just inside the craft complex. They're inconspicuous, Tayre asleep on Tayte's chest. When Z'riah comes into range, she calls to him, softly, but unmistakably his name, though it's a questioning sort of thing. Hearing a woman saying his name right now gets an unconscious, unearned glare before Z'riah realizes it's not the woman in his thoughts. He pauses to look at Tayte and the baby against her chest, the latter more uncertainly than the former. Then the greenrider is turning his path to approach them, a lot less glare-y than he might have looked a moment ago. "Hey," he says in barely more than a whisper, for lack of a smarter greeting. Tayte's brows rise at the glare, but when it tempers, she tilts her head to take him in better. "I like your dress," she compliments quietly, shifting to stand, the babe against her chest. "Do you have a few moments? I have something for you." True, they only spoke a few days past about her knitting him something, but knitting is her job, after all. "Thanks. Just something I threw on." He's totally just had dresses sitting around for ages, waiting for the right moment to be worn out in public. "I have all night," Z'riah admits wryly. He'd rather not have all night, but that's how his Turnover has been so far. "Already?" Tayte lets him have an amused smile for the first before she starts moving. "Yeah. It's in my room." She'll lead the way. "Need a drink?" She offers once they're inside, nodding to the open bottle on top of the booze dresser. It's a particularly fine scotch. Smooth with a lovely burn. "Glasses are in the first drawer. I'll put the baby down and be back." Instead of putting Tayre down on her bed, she goes out of sight and returns without her son, one hand already re-doing the runner's tail her hair's been pulled back in. "Pour me one?" She requests of the greenrider as she approaches him. "A drink would be amazing," says Z'riah as he follows Tayte into her room, moving off toward the booze as soon as she points him in the right direction. "Faranth, this is good," he says when she reappears, reaching for another glass to pour her out a few fingers. "You have great taste, I've gotta say." He hands her the glass and takes another sip from his own. "I should, at least when it comes to alcohol." Men... well. "I'll be back to tending bar in another few sevens." Tayte takes a couple swallows that are less than ladylike, and then she's stepping in, putting herself body to body with the greenrider, tilting her head and kissing his neck. Maybe it's the dress! (No, it's really not.) Z'riah might have questions about the bar tending thing, but those are set aside as unimportant once Tayte is pressing herself against him and her lips are on his neck. It takes him enough by surprise that the greenrider can only lift his head to bare the whole of his throat before he's trying to lean back to look at her. "I thought..." Knitting. Several months before fucking. He's not going to complain, but this isn't what he was expecting. Tayte pulls back just enough when he does so she can meet his eyes. Her look is both amused and mischievous. "Well, if you just want the scarf..." She teases, one of her hands laying against his side. "But it is turnover. And I'm stuck here and not at the party, so... I was thinking we could have at least a little fun." So, this wasn't what he was expecting, but it's a pleasant surprise. Very pleasant. Z'riah grins like this is maybe the nicest thing anyone's ever given him, then he's lifting a hand to catch her behind the neck, leaning in as though he wants to kiss her. He doesn't do it, though, instead waiting for her to finish the motion if that's what she wants. The waiting makes her laugh, a light, excited sort of sound, like they might be two teens necking in the Harper classroom when they should be studying. Tayte leans to meet his lips eagerly, quickly tangling her fingers into his hair. She's not in a rush, not at all. The kissing is fun, or the way they do it is, anyway, but at some point she has to ask, "You're not wearing panties under that dress, are you?" Kissing is fun. And all the better that Z'riah isn't half bad at it. Whether it's the sort of thing Tayte likes or not, there's never any indication that she's not completely in control, either. Her question makes him laugh, which probably means no, but he says in a low, challenging sort of voice, "You could help me out of it and see for yourself." "Well, I don't know, Z'riah-- that's a mouthful," Tayte interrupts herself to point out. "Do you have a nickname? It seems like we could be on nickname terms." Now that they've done so much kissing. "In any case, I'm not sure I could take you seriously enough to fuck you in a couple months," yes, that part is still a couple months away, "if I do disrobe you only to find we match." The horror. She makes an appropriately stricken expression and then beams at him. "Turn around." Her control is a casual sort of thing, by comparison the control offered by some others that could be named. (But won't, because that would be a huge turn-off.) She doesn't seem to mind directing the action in the least, but it's playfully done, as is the way she hums a little as she works the fasteners to get him out of the dress in question. "Zif," comes easily, like he's eager to give her what she wants. "Or Zee. But I'll probably answer to whatever you want to call me, Tayte." He's a nice guy like that. Z'riah turns so she can help him out of the dress and once it's bared enough of him to see, he is wearing underwear, but they're certainly not the sort Tayte would be expected to wear. And he's, you know, happy to be here. "Is there anything I can do for you?" "Mm. Zif. I like that." The blonde answers with a warm smile. Her hands run down across his back, across his sides, around his front before she's gently pushing with one hand to turn him to face her. "I'm afraid I'll have to wait, but for what it's worth, you're doing wonders for me just now. Do you know you're the first man I've made out with aside from the baby's father and a very, very drunk and gold flight lusted encounter with a gay man that I've had in the last three turns? It's almost like having my first crush all over again." Her eyes are vibrant in their excitement, and she shifts to push him playfully over to the edge of the bed so he can sit. And Zif really likes her hands on him even if he's just slightly disappointed that there isn't something more obviously physical he can do for her sake. Not that he has any problem whatsoever with kissing. "You poor thing," he purrs, not unlike the way Tayte said the same to him not so long ago. "You're beautiful, you know. You could do a lot better than a gay man. I know a lot of them are hot," very aware of this fact, "but they can't appreciate you the way you should be appreciated." Not the way he can appreciate her, obviously. It's with amusement and no small measure of teasing that Tayte says, "You say very nice things, Zif. I think I'll keep you." At least, until she's through with him. That smile stays as she settles on her knees in front of him. "You do like this sort of thing, don't you?" She asks as hands slide along the insides of his thighs, nails teasing across the sensitive skin there. Without really waiting for an answer, she'll help herself. Her fun tonight is in learning him, at least in what ways she can, just now, with their arguably limited time. She has the skill of (who's shocked?) a whore, discarding away things that don't work quickly but not being worried about trying something new in its place. This is fun! And she helps make it so, though she does require him to place a hand around the handle in her hair to help her sort what feels good from what doesn't. He would assure her that he does like this sort of thing if she'd given him a chance, but the sound he makes - not loud but definitely pleasantly audible - probably does as much assuring as could ever be wanted. Z'riah is certainly not the shy sort, about the sounds he makes or how he helps Tayte discover what he likes, but he is considerate, even with a hand making use of that convenient tail of hair. Even when he's close and it would be so easy to be less considerate, his touch lightens and he not only warns her but asks if he can finish. Tayte probably gets extra points for the way she comes away from him just long enough to meet his eyes intently and say the highly erotic phrase, "Cum for me," before she's closing her mouth around him. And what good whore doesn't swallow? When she's finished, she uses his knees to push herself up and settles herself on his thigh. "Shells but two months can't go by quickly enough." She'll express emphatically with a smile before leaning in to kiss him soundly. Z'riah, panting his breath as Tayte settles on his thighs, returns her kiss with all the gratitude he feels for that fantastic blow job. But he has to pull away after a few moments and he gives a rather different sort of groan than before; unhappy. "Not now, Yizi. Fuck." He doesn't try to move right away, except to wrap his arms around Tayte like she'll somehow keep him grounded right here so long as she doesn't get up. Tayte's brows lift, amusement pulling at the corner of her lips as she looks at him. "Somewhere to be?" She reaches up to stroke his cheek. "Not that I think it is an excuse, but just in case, I was joking about keeping you. I'm not looking to get tied down - perhaps not even literally anymore," she pauses to consider this and then shrugs, "Let me get you your scarf. I'm still working on the hat and mittens." She shifts to rise and fetch the thing in a deep green shade with attractively masculine cables across it. "No excuse," Z'riah assures her. "My friend is an idiot. But that's nice to know. I'm not looking to get tied down." Even if his pretty blue eyes flicker over her at the mention of literal tying. Because he might be okay with that. He lets her go as she shifts to get up and he rises so he can get himself situated. He doesn't seem to intend on putting that dress back on before he goes, but when Tayte brings back the scarf, he's clearly impressed. "Damn. You're good." "Do you want to borrow something to wear? It's cold out there." Tayte's voice isn't exactly maternal, but there's obviously some care-taker element to her. The complement is acknowledged with a smile. "I'm better at the bar. The knitting is just to keep my fingers nimble. The knitting and the magic tricks." She's kidding, right? She has to be. She's already moving to a chest to pull out a pair of draw-string pants and then a large charcoal grey sweater that's obviously been knit for a man larger in stature than Z'riah, but that will certainly keep him warm on his trip. "You can get them back to me later. No one will miss them." She's sure and offering them over. "I have a cloak, I'll be fine. Just going home." Even though he just said something about his friend. Z'riah glances at her again, brow arching despite his unconscious grin. Magic tricks, indeed. He's already a fan of them. He might ask if she were sure if she didn't seem sure about the clothes. The greenrider takes them and starts pulling them on as he says, "It's a good excuse to come back. I'm really sorry about this." "It's turnover, isn't that the time we're supposed to forgive and forget and all that? Start anew?" Tayte says wryly to the greenrider, moving to adjust the sweater for him so it sits a little nicer across his shoulders, and then lets her hands smooth it across. She leans up to claim a kiss. "Don't feel so bad, Zif. The baby's going to wake soon anyway, and what fun would I have been then?" Aside from the fact that he'd have gotten to see her tits. "I hope things work out for your friend." She can say it earnestly, because she's a good person. Seeing Tayte's tits would be way more fun than dealing with the aftermath of the Evil Bitch That Must Not Be Named. Even if there is a baby hanging off of them. "Me, too. I'll see you again soon, hopefully. And thank you." He really, really means that. "That was fantastic." With that, Z'riah turns to let himself out and he definitely doesn't look eager to go. So it's probably not an excuse. Or he's a really good actor. |
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