Steph -- the only word for it is 'wriggles.' "You
know, I *believed* you when you said it wasn't just
about the Robin suit."
"Good," Bruce says, and rolls down Steph's -- stockings.
Silk. With a seam she'd spent all night convinced was
crooked.
"These things --"
"Are quite attractive on you," Bruce says, and kisses
her ankle. Softly.
"Yeah, okay, fine, but -- um." Steph pats the bed to
either side of herself. "You could totally be up here
now, you know."
"The thought had occurred to me," and Bruce is working
on her other stocking. Slowly. Softly.
Rargh. "Like, right *now*," she says, and doesn't
actually kick him when he goes for her other ankle. "I
don't have that many nerve endings -- oh. Hey."
Bruce is a big man with a big reach, which is really
nice and obvious with him spreading her legs like this.
And holding her ankles.
"I think you're on the right track, Spooky."
Bruce kisses her -- calves.
"Or maybe you -- come *on*, you had me at that stupid
fucking party for *hours* --"
"A 'fucking' party might have been more entertaining."
Steph doesn't -- Tim has been known to describe that
sound as a 'squawk,' and she doesn't do that. The Birds
don't get to *have* her, so there. "You... okay, you're
good at being distracting, but --"
"You'd rather be bent over the pommel horse, again...?"
It's an honest question. Curious and -- thing. Mm, pommel
horse. "I'm *bored*," she says, and flexes her ankles.
Bruce lets them go, which is terrible, but also means she
can pull her feet up and plant 'em. She'd ditched her
panties on the way up the stairs, natch.
"Tim doesn't -- make you wait."
Yes. No. "Not like *this*. You -- you're a dirty old man
and a *tease* -- ooh."
Lick. Right. Up. Her. Thigh. Oh, and ooh, and also *yeah*.
Especially since Bruce is kind of *nuzzling* Steph's cooch,
rubbing and sniffing and generally making her feel like a
very happy -- animal.
Steph lifts her hips.
Bruce pulls *away* --
Steph *growls* --
"Well, why didn't you *say* so, buttercup?"
She could really seriously *kill* him for that, especially
since she *knows* that he's totally training her to take
it, to get *used* to it from him the way Tim's used to it,
but --
But he doesn't do this the way Tim does. It's not really
careful, and it's more messy than thorough. She's going
to be all *over* his face, dripping off his -- his damned
*chin* --
"Oh -- oh, yeah, that --"
She's --
Steph digs her fingers into the comforter and *bucks*,
just to watch Bruce ride it. Ride *her*.
Yeah, maybe a pommel horse isn't good for *everything*.
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