the one where Arthur is a douche (for thesecurity and <lj site="l

[chesstotem]

Ariadne was a little surprised, truth be told, at how well her date with Arthur was going - not that she'd thought it would be bad, per se, but she'd expected a bit more awkwardness about the whole thing.

Instead, what she got was Arthur being charming, handsome and just plain nice, talking easily about work and music and wine, while Ariadne chatted about designing and weird architectural details and they compared notes on a few of the cities they'd both been to.

It was still pretty early, but Ariadne had never really been able to hold her alcohol, so she demurred at the bartender's suggestion of another drink.

"We should get out of here before I start stumbling around in these shoes." They were sensible enough shoes, though still pretty new and liable to hurt her feet if she wasn't careful.

Comments

[chesstotem]

Ariadne was happy to comply with his request - much more room on the bed, much softer, easier to maneuver.

She had no doubt that she was far from the most experienced lover Eames had ever had, but she knew what felt good, and what felt good right now was her hand braced on his shoulder as she rocked herself against him. She discarded her bra, another irrelevant piece of fabric, nothing more than an obstacle to more contact with skin.

She was hot, her skin flushed and breath ragged.