[The potent cocktail of additives and aphrodisiacs mask any chances physically and mentally from being noticed, the latter doing more to push them into eating more. The faint dust of pink on Allen’s cheeks darkens from word and offered food alike. His eyes drift more often catching sight of Aqua’s potent curves coming to shape.
She’s never been particularly well endowed leaving him to assume it’s how her black dress clings to her body he’s seeing curves. An enduring voice of reason chides him for looking and lingers on her cleavage, gray eyes darting back away and looking back into hers.]
Are you sure about that?
[The fruit based tart goes down smooth, his tongue lapping at her palm longer than it needs when no crumb is left. The loose nature of his sweater like attire hides his slight roundness, one he doesn’t feel building thanks to the distraction offered by Aqua herself and the food she’s giving him.
After swallowing he steps closer again. He feels hot, too hot in his long sleeves. Hands roll up the sleeves exposing his left arm’s unusual color and texture. It’s far more apparent than the odd scar over his left eye, but it’s never been of problem with Aqua.
However the problem of heat and stirring in his loins does bother him. The acting of feeding and being feed shouldn't have that effect on him, but alas it is and his steadfast pious habits are failing him when a soft pant falls after a bite from her hand.]
no subject
She’s never been particularly well endowed leaving him to assume it’s how her black dress clings to her body he’s seeing curves. An enduring voice of reason chides him for looking and lingers on her cleavage, gray eyes darting back away and looking back into hers.]
Are you sure about that?
[The fruit based tart goes down smooth, his tongue lapping at her palm longer than it needs when no crumb is left. The loose nature of his sweater like attire hides his slight roundness, one he doesn’t feel building thanks to the distraction offered by Aqua herself and the food she’s giving him.
After swallowing he steps closer again. He feels hot, too hot in his long sleeves. Hands roll up the sleeves exposing his left arm’s unusual color and texture. It’s far more apparent than the odd scar over his left eye, but it’s never been of problem with Aqua.
However the problem of heat and stirring in his loins does bother him. The acting of feeding and being feed shouldn't have that effect on him, but alas it is and his steadfast pious habits are failing him when a soft pant falls after a bite from her hand.]
Because I think you’re the sweetest thing here.