"Sorry guys, me and sir have some toys to play with."
From Create Your Own Story
(Created page with '"Quality over quantity," Dean smirks at the four men, and he waits while you straighten yourself up a bit, wiping your stomach with a rag that's hanging from the sling, and then …') |
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| - | "Quality over quantity," Dean smirks at the four men, and | + | "Quality over quantity," Dean smirks at the four men, who grumble a bit, but back off. You slide out of the sling, and Dean waits while you straighten yourself up a bit, wiping your stomach with a rag that's hanging from the wall on a hook, and then pulling up your jeans and tugging on your shirt. You both leave the curtained back room together, Dean's hand possessively on your shoulder as you walk in front of him. |
When you reach the bottom of the stairs, the bouncer turns and looks at the two of you, and then shakes his head. "Lucky fuck," he says. You feel your face color, as you realize he's talking about Dean getting to take you home. | When you reach the bottom of the stairs, the bouncer turns and looks at the two of you, and then shakes his head. "Lucky fuck," he says. You feel your face color, as you realize he's talking about Dean getting to take you home. | ||
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You say... | You say... | ||
*[["Can't we all just get along?"]] | *[["Can't we all just get along?"]] | ||
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*[["Let's go, sir. I want to try those toys."]] | *[["Let's go, sir. I want to try those toys."]] | ||
*[["Oh great, a pissing contest. Let me make it simple: I'm leaving."]] | *[["Oh great, a pissing contest. Let me make it simple: I'm leaving."]] | ||
[[Category: Birthday Bottom Boy's Blackout Bar-night]] | [[Category: Birthday Bottom Boy's Blackout Bar-night]] | ||
Current revision as of 16:02, 27 April 2010
"Quality over quantity," Dean smirks at the four men, who grumble a bit, but back off. You slide out of the sling, and Dean waits while you straighten yourself up a bit, wiping your stomach with a rag that's hanging from the wall on a hook, and then pulling up your jeans and tugging on your shirt. You both leave the curtained back room together, Dean's hand possessively on your shoulder as you walk in front of him.
When you reach the bottom of the stairs, the bouncer turns and looks at the two of you, and then shakes his head. "Lucky fuck," he says. You feel your face color, as you realize he's talking about Dean getting to take you home.
Dean shoots the bouncer a look heavy with meaning. "Luck's got nothing to do with it."
"If you say so," the bouncer grins. "You and me, no comparison."
Dean frowns.
You say...
