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    "My fingers trailed down her side, over her hips, my mouth following. I passed over the core of her heat and peppered kisses over her thighs."

    sashiee says: yum.
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    Closed [only Sashiee Chuu]
    Topic Started: Jan 9 2012, 06:51 PM (420 Views)
    hd1bar

    [OOC: This will take place one late evening on a cruise ship where my character Bonifacio takes a step outside to get away from the crowd and music for his break. Afterwards, he goes back on duty, and as the crowd dwindles down, that's when he notices your character which leads into a discussion that leads into a private space for some lovely lactation action. Any objections?]
    Edited by hd1bar, Jan 17 2012, 05:27 PM.
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    Sashiee Chuu
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    ooc: lmaoo nope seems good. So am I a female, male, and/or pregnant?
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    hd1bar

    [OOC: You'll be a non-pregnant female that will undergo induced lactation. How's that sound?]
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    Sashiee Chuu
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    ooc: fine fine. do start, pl0x <3 (:
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    hd1bar

    Somewhere within a vast ocean, a cruise ship sailed at night. The crescent moon hovering overhead and the array of lights from the passenger rooms illuminated the darkness. The sea was relatively calm, save for the lively party taking place in the main dining hall. It was decorated with numerous tables, fine silverware, slot machines, dealers, guests from all over the globe, just about everything you could find in a dining casino. The food was to die for, the wine selection was fabulous, and the conversations were plentiful. In the midst of the party heat, a waiter poured champagne into the empty glasses belonging to a couple at one of the tables.

    "If worse comes to worse and we run out," Bonifacio said with a smile, "you can always try Russian Senowolf."

    The couple joined in his laughter. According to its description on the secret menu, Russian Senowolf was a beverage that boasted a wopping 90% alcohol. It was consumed on exceedingly rare occasions, by either a brave soul with a strong tolerance or a total idiot. After he returned the champagne to refrigerated storage, he proceeded out of the main dining hall and onto the deck. His black shoes were made from a sturdy leather. Adorned about his legs were comfortable but fancy black slacks with three strips of red, yellow, and green running down each leg from the pockets right down to the ankles. He sported a black vest over his red-buttoned shirt. All buttons were done, and the sleeves reached to the elbows, making for a comfortable gap should he resume dealing cards. All shirts for dealers were fashioned this way to avoid arousing suspicions from guests who might protest about tricks up the sleeves. As expected of all employees, his black hair was kept clean cut. He tamed his orange eyes from wandering about too much. Aboard this particular cruise, shifting eyes suggested inexperience or paranoia, and being that he was Russian in a location heavily dominated by American folk, it would be even more emphasized. He advanced to the ledge and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. The black and red Russian had only recently quit smoking, laughing as he figured a co-worker slipped them into his pockets to tempt him into picking up the habit.

    "That damn punk."

    With one good heave, the suave server launched them into the ocean, quietly splashing into the waves and descending beyond retrieval. He reached into his other pocket and pulled out a small vial, resisting the urge to drink his own alcoholic mixture as his shift was nearly complete.
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    Sashiee Chuu
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    Girlish laughter filtered into her ears, and Josephina automatically pulled a soft smile onto her face to deter any suspicions about her enjoyment. Sea green eyes glanced around at her raucous companions, hiding her disgust at their displays. 'How pathetic', she thought to herself, 'Two glasses of champagne and they're all braying like donkeys, acting as if they drank a bottle of tequila each.'

    Another smile pulled at the edges of her rosy lips as she stood up and spoke. "Excuse me, ladies," her voice was husky and accented, betraying her latin blood among the bubbly blondes around her, "But I seem to have need of the restroom. Don't wait up for me."

    "Oh, Josie," How she hated that horrid nickname, "Would you like me to accompany you?" With the threat of having to haul a drunken body around, she waved the woman off, "No need Stacy, I'll be fine on my own. Finish your conversation."

    Quickly she walked off, full hips swaying with each step as she searched for an exit. The skirt of her red dress swished at her ankles, showing off her left leg with the slit all the way up to her upper thigh. Finally finding the blazing green letters above a door, she moved out of the way of a passing waiter, noticing his eyes automatically look down the large amount of cleavage not hidden by the tight bodice. Ignoring him, she went through the door, taking a deep breath as the fresh breeze hit her uncovered skin and raising light goosebumps.

    She stayed outside for a good while, enjoying the reprieve from the bimbos she had the unfortunate luck to know. A few other people were out, ogling the smooth expanse of her tanned back, starting from soft shoulders, leading to a small waist, and rounding out into a perfect set of buttocks. She followed the movement of a pack of cigarettes passing her by on the water, thinking little of it. Eventually she headed back in, not eager to hear the screeches of the hyenas that were her acquaintances - yet knowing that she had little choice.

    As it was, the blonde nightmares were gone, most likely in some unknown mens beds for the night. With a sigh of relief she went to the open bar, poured herself a couple fingers of scotch, and found a corner seat to sip and relax in.

    ooc: Let's put the dress as something like this, plus slit:

    http://bestdress.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/silk-red-backless-maxi-gowns-with-sleeves.jpg
    Edited by Sashiee Chuu, Jan 12 2012, 11:43 PM.
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    hd1bar

    Bonifacio shook his little flask a bit, absolutely sure he could consume a portion of its mixed contents without letting it affect his ability to work. The manager, however, disagreed with every inch of his will and insisted even one hint of alcohol consumption would ruin the reputation of the casino. Regardless, he placed it back into his pocket. It would be at the height of its taste at the end of one of his busiest shifts anyway.

    "Alejandro! You're not doing what I think you're doing, are you?"

    Damn. With great reluctance, the black and red Russian turned his head to the left to notice one of the other waiters. Everybody called him Mike, but only the manager knew whether or not that was his real name, as he was the only real employee to specifically request being addressed with that name. Whatever the case, Mike somehow knew about how his real-life name that was tied to the conviction of a gas station incident that was blown up not too long ago, and the only possible evidence found at the scene was a cell phone billed under one Alejandro Rodriguez. Believing he was falsely accused, the suave server discarded that name for the time being until he could find the real culprit responsible for stealing his cell earlier that day.

    "Mike, you motherfucker... Stop putting your goddamn cigarettes into my goddamn pockets! And stop calling me Alejandro! What, are you TRYING to get me fired?"

    "Speaking of fired, where's my cigarettes?"

    "I think the fishies ate 'em by now."

    "You threw them away?! Do you have ANY idea how expensive those sons of bitches are?!"

    "This is why you put valuables in your own pockets, moron."

    "Those are top tier tines! You better get your punk ass down there and get them back, or else I'll report your sorry ass!"

    "You sure you wanna report me...Muriel?"

    A nervous glance embedded itself into Mike's face. Alejandro was often playfully teased by his co-worker by slipping cigarettes into his pocket in a childish attempt to make him confess to the manager. Back when he was an avid smoker, his impulsiveness often got the better of him, but never did he actually threaten to report him. Those constant annoyances inspired the black and red Russian to sneak into the files to discover that Mike was a cover-up for his true first name Muriel. He took on nearly every possible position when he signed up for the job. After all, being a dealer had its way of influencing you into playing all kinds of games.

    "Don't you fucking dare!" Mike snarled with clenched fists.

    "I won't tell if you won't," the suave server retorted, patting the pocket where he put the flask. "This is gonna taste even better when my shift is done. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
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    Sashiee Chuu
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    ooc: You didn't give me much to work on, here, lol.

    bic:

    The glass was empty, damn. That meant she had to either get up and get another, or just give up and go to bed - but she wasn't quite tired enough for the latter. A few more people had left while she had her mind on the smooth taste of the scotch, but the party was still roaring joyfully. Sighing, the brunette beauty snatched a glass of champagne from a passing waiter after standing up, and went to go mingle.

    "Josie!", Stop calling me Josie!, she thought furiously, but didn't show it. It seemed a few of the vultures were still awake - either that or they had finished their business and came back, and that meant she was drinking that scotch slower than she expected. Opening her mouth, she was about to reply with a greeting but didn't get the chance before claw-like nails grabbed her arm and started pulling her towards a quieter section.

    "What in the world is the matter, ladies?" She nearly hissed out the question, her tone of voice making it a demand. The girls ignored her though, not saying anything until she was sitting on a couch that nearly ate her with its softness.

    "Josie," I swear, once more, and-, "What have you been doing all this time? We leave for a few minutes and you disappear on us! Father says he saw you sitting in a corner, drinking a men's drink. What were you thinking! Imagine your reputation if others-".

    She was seeing red, her knuckles were pale, and it felt like the delicate champagne flute would break under her firm grip on it. The glass made a loud clink as she slammed it on the table between them, some of the fizzy drink sloshing out of the rim. The usual husky lilt of her voice was dangerous as she stood up and glared in turn at each of the suddenly wide-eyed girls.

    "That is enough," The words were quiet, but cold, "You forget your place. You know very well nobody else knows who I am here, but I am still your superior. I have let you drag me around the past week, listening to your mindless chatter, but I am done. I do not care what your filthy father thinks, and less of what you do. I assure you, if you bring this up with my family, they will simply use means to silence you. And for the last time," One of the beasts gasped as her hair was gripped tightly, "Do not call me Josie!"

    She had to go. Her hands were shaking with rage, and her scowl frightened anybody standing in the way as she passed them. Finding her way outside yet again, she kept walking until she found a secluded spot and let out a deep breath she had not realized she was holding. She hated using her status against anyone - she was just a person as anyone else - but the girls her family had sent as her entourage had gotten on her last nerve. For a week she had listened to their squealing, their attempts at looking high and mighty when they thought she was paying attention, and their arrogant view of the world around them. She simply could not handle it anymore.

    It took her a full hour to calm down, and when she went back in she was pleased to see anyone she recognized was gone. She would have words with who her father thought were good guards when she went back home. Ordering another scotch, Josephina sat back in her thankfully empty corner seat, and enjoyed herself once more as she watched the partygoers slowly leave for bed.
    Edited by Sashiee Chuu, Jan 16 2012, 08:21 PM.
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    hd1bar

    [OOC: Sorry. I got a little carried away. Let's get down to business.]

    Alejandro fabulously strutted away at having won yet another game. When he returned inside, he found that the majority of the lively party migrated over to the gaming areas. Their restaurant's food was rather good at revitalization, after all. Only a handful of people remained at the bar or the lovely dining tables. One of his fellow bartenders waved, signaling for him to approach him. He nodded and walked right up to the counter.

    "What it is, Sogoro?" the black and red Russian asked.

    "Hey, man. With all the people heading over to the slot machines and what-have-you, they'll need people to keep fights to a minimum."

    "They still got people fighting over favorite machines?"

    "What can you do? They think that their favorite spots will eventually get 'em a big haul."

    The suave server chuckled. "Rather odd that they have favorite machines that haven't even them even the small jackpots, don't you think?"

    "Whatever the case, we have to be there in cause some drunk tries to incite a riot. Besides, if some lucky girl scores huge, I might actually get some action this time. You don't mind watching the bar for a bit, do you?" He simply nodded to his co-worker. "You're the best, Bonifacio!"

    Alejandro really did not mind the extra work anyway. Number zero; the more favors he complied with, the less likely his co-workers would suspect anything. Number one; the more extra work he put in often returned a generous bonus in his salary. Number two; the more money he made, the better his chances of avoiding turning homeless.

    "One more thing. The fine lady over there ordered this scotch, so take it over to her."

    "Not a problem. Just leave Maurice at the bar so we can have at least one guy manning the bar while the rest of you try to get lucky."

    The black and red Russian took the scotch and elegantly strode over to the corner Sogoro pointed towards. He rolled his eyes at the other employees manning the slot machine army. At least they were not like that all the time, and they insisted it was all in good fun. As they said, if they got lucky, they got lucky. If not, ah well. Still, he managed to force out a little laugh before making his way over to the lady in her corner.

    "Here is the scotch you ordered, mi-"

    At that moment, the suave server had his eyes scathed by her elegant form. He was completely paralyzed for that instance from head to toe, unaware that a gentle touch of scarlet surfaced to his face. And nothing, absolutely nothing else could occupy his mind. Not the gas station incident. Not the hassle he endured to even get hired overseas. Not even Muriel and his fresh threat to report him to the manager could snatch him away from being captivated by what he saw.
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    Sashiee Chuu
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    ooc: tis k (: sorry if this one seems a bit short, btw.

    bic:

    Her eyes raised to the face in front of her at the sound of his voice. This wasn't the bartender she had ordered from for the past week, but hey, as long as he had her scotch all was good. She noted the short black hair matching the thick locks on her head, the ends teasing her hips. His eyes were a bright orange, completely different from the soft green of hers. A pink hue graced his cheeks, and one eyebrow unwillingly raised at that. It was not often that men were struck speechless at her view, mostly because many were too cowardly to try talking to her with knowledge of who she really was.

    "Thank you," Her voice was full and throaty, one that oozed sex in its tone. The tip of a pink tongue peeked out for a moment, moistening the full lips painted a shade darker than her dress. Egads, this man is attractive! Her thoughts were running away, and she forcefully stopped them. She reached out for her drink, taking it from his frozen hand as it seemed he wasn't going to hand it to her anytime soon. Their fingers brushed together, and it prompted her to stand up. This brought them close, and her nose inhaled the soft scent that simply screamed man.

    A slow second passed, yet finally she stepped to the side and around him, moving towards the blackjack tables to play a last game before the dealers left. The silk of the dress swished enticingly as she walked away from him, and if his eyes followed her she didn't notice.
    Edited by Sashiee Chuu, Jan 16 2012, 10:50 PM.
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