[ He's at the age where there are three things in particular that any fighter in-field misses when they're older: being sharp-eyed enough to take out a dime-size target at five hundred yards in low light. Being spry enough to run up a dozen flight of stairs without getting winded. Being young enough to get wood as quick as a fourteen-year-old with a can of Red Bull and a porn video -- but with enough stamina to make the most of it. Exercise is the key: privately he's always thought the pencil-necked needle-dicks and the grizzled old farts with ED should join a gym or a boxing club. A round of sparring beats that little blue pill all to hell. ]
[ His eyes track the sinuous tick-tocking of her body, a sweetly secret countdown, her hips rippling as if to feed herself to him. But he doesn't reach for her -- or rise to her taunt, his own words impudently flung back at him. A pair of hotel robes lie puddled on a nearby chair. Walking over to them, he pulls the belt off the first robe, before reaching out and grabbing Korra's wrists. Binding them tightly, he secures them to one of the bedposts in a sturdy square knot with his teeth. Wrenches the belt off the second robe, slicing it in half with his switchblade, before her body is stretched to its full length as her ankles are now tied. ]
[ Trussed and spread-eagled, she is like a ripe fruit on display. She has plenty of room to toss and turn, bend her arms and legs -- but she is also utterly rigid, utterly bound, a tight and helpless thing unable to shield her breasts or the glistening pink bit peeping between the scrim of dark curls at her sex. ]
[ The sight of her at his mercy feeds his cock stiffly upright, tucked against his belly. When he finally condescends to touch her, it's idle, almost offhand. Cool fingers coasting her inner-thighs, forcing them wider apart, as wide as they'll go. He flows to his knees at the foot of the bed, his mouth hovering between her legs, only inches above her swollen and mercilessly revealed sex. Her scent -- warm, saltine, heavy -- makes the air sharp. ]
[ He doesn't touch her. His humid breath ruffles her damp curls -- a deliberate tease. Payback for her earlier remark. ]
no subject
[ His eyes track the sinuous tick-tocking of her body, a sweetly secret countdown, her hips rippling as if to feed herself to him. But he doesn't reach for her -- or rise to her taunt, his own words impudently flung back at him. A pair of hotel robes lie puddled on a nearby chair. Walking over to them, he pulls the belt off the first robe, before reaching out and grabbing Korra's wrists. Binding them tightly, he secures them to one of the bedposts in a sturdy square knot with his teeth. Wrenches the belt off the second robe, slicing it in half with his switchblade, before her body is stretched to its full length as her ankles are now tied. ]
[ Trussed and spread-eagled, she is like a ripe fruit on display. She has plenty of room to toss and turn, bend her arms and legs -- but she is also utterly rigid, utterly bound, a tight and helpless thing unable to shield her breasts or the glistening pink bit peeping between the scrim of dark curls at her sex. ]
[ The sight of her at his mercy feeds his cock stiffly upright, tucked against his belly. When he finally condescends to touch her, it's idle, almost offhand. Cool fingers coasting her inner-thighs, forcing them wider apart, as wide as they'll go. He flows to his knees at the foot of the bed, his mouth hovering between her legs, only inches above her swollen and mercilessly revealed sex. Her scent -- warm, saltine, heavy -- makes the air sharp. ]
[ He doesn't touch her. His humid breath ruffles her damp curls -- a deliberate tease. Payback for her earlier remark. ]