[ someone recently told him people know what they're getting into, taken out of context but still true. he shares each one of those concerns with her. they shouldn't do this. they won't work. not here, not at home. their friendship could disintegrate into worse shape or into nothing.
but the next photo appears on his screen and he can’t reason with what he feels. pleasant surprise that she’s sent another ( he hadn’t expected anything else ), appreciation for how beautiful felicity is. god, she’s sexy like this. oliver’s been attracted to her from day one, but this? she’s right that he wants her. he doesn’t have an illusion that he can feign otherwise. he yanks his shirt over his head, figuring he can give her something to look at since she's exposing herself to him. she's seen his scars, the tattoos, every part of him — he assumes, anyway. this is the most of her that he's laid eyes on.
when she receives a photograph of him, it's him shirtless on his bed with his pants unbuttoned, zipper halfway down. nothing over the top. he doesn't know where the limits are. palming himself unsolicited seems a bit much. ] And if I was? What else would you wish for? My hands? My mouth?
Tell me about what you think about with your hand between your thighs. [ it's not an instruction to touch herself so much as it is a walk me through this part of our lives, but there's no pass or fail here. ]
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Date: 2019-01-20 07:08 am (UTC)but the next photo appears on his screen and he can’t reason with what he feels. pleasant surprise that she’s sent another ( he hadn’t expected anything else ), appreciation for how beautiful felicity is. god, she’s sexy like this. oliver’s been attracted to her from day one, but this? she’s right that he wants her. he doesn’t have an illusion that he can feign otherwise. he yanks his shirt over his head, figuring he can give her something to look at since she's exposing herself to him. she's seen his scars, the tattoos, every part of him — he assumes, anyway. this is the most of her that he's laid eyes on.
when she receives a photograph of him, it's him shirtless on his bed with his pants unbuttoned, zipper halfway down. nothing over the top. he doesn't know where the limits are. palming himself unsolicited seems a bit much. ] And if I was? What else would you wish for? My hands? My mouth?
Tell me about what you think about with your hand between your thighs. [ it's not an instruction to touch herself so much as it is a walk me through this part of our lives, but there's no pass or fail here. ]