Mustang (_mustang_) wrote in nomadsrpg, @ 2013-03-30 11:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | lot, mustang, week one |
Who: Lot & Mustang
When: After the christmas dinner 25th December
Where: Lots cabin
Why: Mustang needs help undressing
It had taken Lot not even 3 seconds to agree with Mustangs plan, slide her agonisingly off his lap and tuck his erection into the waistband of his jeans. Excusing himself quietly so as to avoid attracting attention to his growing problem he grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers with hers tightly, and nearly dragged her along the dock towards his place. Despite being the ‘big man in charge’ Lot’s cabin was located at the far end of the dock, out of the view of the casino and away from the prying eyes of the neighbours. After leaving jail he’d been desperate for privacy and had decided to set up his throne on the fringes of the territory rather than right in the middle of the melee. It was quite out near the edge of the old marine park island but it was quiet and that was ideal for a man who spent a lot of time inside his own head.
Lot decided in that moment that the walk along the narrow bridge towards the island was entirely too long and for a moment contemplated taking her amongst the trees but scrapped the idea when a particularly sharp chill tore through the air.
The urge to touch her was overwhelming, it was driving him mad and she was smaller than him, her strides not as long and he didn’t want to exhaust her before the time was right “Get on my back,” he turned to her with a playful grin, “I’ll carry you the rest of the way it’s quicker,” he panted eyes glinting.
“What?” Mustang demanded, laughing softly at him. His playful side was becoming more obvious the longer they had been something closer to official. There was an oddness about the way he was, holding her hand, possessive and tender while all the time near enough dragging her back to his cabin for sex. She’d felt how hard he was at the dinner, but had expected that he wouldn’t leave the festivities, just push her off to suck him off under the table. She knew he liked a bit of exhibitionism, even after telling her that they shouldn’t in front of the children.
For all of his big tough manly maness, she preferred this side of him, playful, happy and laughing. He was much more handsome with a smile that reached his eyes as well as sitting on his lips. Did she really care about him? She wasn’t sure, but she did know he meant more to her than anyone had for a really long time. Mustang laughed again and dragged off her shoes, knowing that if she impaled him on a steel spike it’d probably cool his libido. She used the strap of the shoes to attach them to her skin tight jeans and moved to get onto his back, feeling his muscles shift beneath his shirt as she secured herself. She couldn’t wait to add another layer of scratch marks to his skin, to kiss and lick every tattoo, to fuck and be fucked by this man, yet again.
“You heard me,” She weighed nothing as she climbed up onto him and he hooked his arms under her legs. They didn’t move any faster than they had been like this but he was enjoying playing with her and by the time they reached the cabin he was out of breath but he was laughing as he dropped her onto the ground outside the front door. Unable to control himself he pulled her to him so that she was sandwiched between his body and the front door and without apology he kissed her full and hard on the lips, his groin grinding into hers. His hand fumbled with the key behind her but he didn’t break away to watch what he was doing, instead just felt about until the lock clicked and the door swung open. Looming over her he herded her into the small apartment and kicked the door closed with his boot the slam echoing through the barren room.
Unlike most bachelor pads Lot’s was a spartan living space. His clothes were always folded neatly and put away and his shoes were lined up under his bed. Anything of value was secreted away, out of sight, as if he was planning on leaving any minute. The only part of the place that looked lived in was the bed and that was just because neither of them had been bothered to make it before they’d left in the morning. Breaking away Lot stepped around her and kicked his boots off tucking them under the bed like the other pair. As he turned back to her his eyes snagged on a pair of black lace pants that were hanging off of the cracked tarnished mirror that leant against the wall opposite the bed.
“Those aren’t mine,” he said sliding narrowed eyes at her, “Which begs the question,” his eyes dropped to the waistband of her trousers, “Are you even wearing any knickers under those?”
Mustang moaned into the kiss as he pinned her to the door. He felt good as he pressed against her, felt good, smelt good, tasted good. He made her feel good, she was happy with him, coming back to the same bed, and even sometimes waking up in the morning in the same bed and with the same man made her feel better about herself, less like a whore and more like an ordinary woman. He stabilised her, but he didn’t need to know that, any more than he needed to know she was genuinely crazy. As she had slept the night before, curled close to him, warm and satisfied in a clean bed, she hadn’t had nightmares, for the first time in years. He made her heart beat so fast she feared she might burst, but for the right reasons.
Mustang liked it here, in this tidy spartan space, but she also liked the messy bed, the underwear on the mirror, her messy mind was leaving a stamp weather he liked it or not. “They can be yours if you want, I think you’d look pretty sexy...and I was going to go home and change, but I was trapped under something...something hard and insistent, so I ran out of time...or you could just check?” She teased, her dark hair already mussed where he’d pinned her to the door.
Lot snorted, “I don’t think either one of us wants to see how good I would look in black lace,” he left it unsaid as to whether it would be because he looked good or because he’d look like a strung out drag queen, though he knew which one of the two was more likely. He stepped forward as if he was reaching for Mustang again but instead he edged around her and took his coat off, he was about to hang it on the hook on the back of the door when a better idea struck him and before throwing the coat to the bed in an uncharacteristically careless manner he extracted the red scarf from the pocket throwing it around his neck.
Without a word he spun on his heel and snagged her to him, her back pressed against his front. With a cold rough hand he palmed her breasts through her top and moaned into her neck. “You smell so good,” he groaned inhaling her in an animalistic fashion that he was too turned on to be embarrassed about. He dipped his right hand into the left side of her bra feeling the soft warm giving flesh beneath his palms and with his right hand he snaked it down her body stopping at the tops of her trousers, “And the sixty four thousand dollar question,” he murmured grazing his teeth up towards her ear before popping the button and dipping his hands deep into the front of her trousers. Soft warm moist flesh met him unguarded, unrestricted and just the feel of her so ready for him was enough to make him come right then and there.
“I might.” Mustang teased, watching him, almost disappointed as he edged around her to hang up his coat, as if his need for tidiness overwhelmed his need for her, which seemed completely at odds with the raging hardon that had pulled him from dinner. He enjoyed her, as a commodity. As far as she knew he had no idea she was bi polar, just that she disappeared sometimes, most thinking she was too lazy to work, rather than too exhausted and too low to get out of bed, and she expected him to discard her when she got ill, but now was not the time.
As he dropped his coat and snagged the scarf her mind wandered. She moaned as he pulled her to him, all other thoughts went from her mind as he touched her, rough and cold, insistent and hungry. As his hands touched her skin there was nothing other than sex in her brain, a lust for this man who seemed to need to get inside her, need to own her completely, as he groaned she needed him too.
“There never was a question, I promised you quick access, whenever you wanted it, all you have to do is tell me and you can know that whenever you look at me I’m naked underneath and yours.” She moaned as he touched her, grinding into him.
With Florence he’d been gentle, patient, slow, loving. Not vanilla per say but there had been more communication about their feelings, how both of them loved one another, and he treated her accordingly. Slowly worshipping her body. With Mustang it was different. Though he had felt desire for Florence it seemed different to the kind he felt now for the woman moist again his hand. With Florence he had wanted to be with her, to coexist beside her happily, but with Mustang he wanted to possess her. The passion he felt for her was bordering on violent, he pawed her roughly, he groaned, he growled and he bit. He wanted to spend hours between her legs because he wanted to hear her cry out because of him. He wanted her to realise that she would never experience pleasure like this at the hand of another, it was only he who could make her legs quiver as the orgasm rippled through her body. He knew she couldn’t be possessed, wouldn’t be, she’d made that clear but in the throes he liked to pretend.
Lot grazed his teeth up to her ear and captured her earlobe between his teeth. Slowly he pushed a finger between her folds and was inside her, not bothering with easing her in, hell he could have ripped the pants off her and plunged straight into her and she’d have been able to take it. She would even have loved it and as much as he delighted in their angry, forceful exchanges he was feeling devious and was more determined to take it slow. Maybe it was because of the gift she was going to give him but suddenly he felt that it was more important than ever that he show her that he was the only one for her. He may not have been ready to tell her his name and the past that came with it but he was ready to make her feel like she was his only one.
“Did you promise me because I’m your leader? Or because you wanted it too?” He knew she’d wanted it too but it’d been a power play he’d known that the minute he’d sobered up. He wasn’t asking her to rehash the details he was asking her to confirm an emotion. Tell me I’m the one you want not because you need me to survive in this cruel word but because you’re feelings actually transcend that.
“Both.” Mustang admitted, groaning softly and pushing against his hand. She knew he wanted to hear that she was in love with him, because it gave him an emotional control she couldn’t let him have over her, let anyone have over her, ever again. She had been once and it had been the beginning of the end of her world. “I need you to keep me safe and warm and I want you, because you’re the only one that can do it...I’ve fucked tribal leaders in other areas to stay safe, I’ve never woken up in their beds, because I’ve never wanted to...you I want to be with, to be around, always...” She dropped her head unwilling to see the look on his face as she spoke, admitting what she saw as a huge weakness. That she cared for him, needed him, more than she wanted to.
“Now it’s your turn...pretend you want more from me than...” She twisted her hips against his hand. She didn’t even care that he was lying, it’d be her second Christmas gift. The pretense at love.
In a romantic book or possibly a movie he would have known without needing her to say it that she wanted him for more than the security he could provide but this was real life. She kept things close to the vest like he did, never leaning on anyone so she could prevent herself from falling on her face. It was smart and he liked that about her. But he was still human. Years behind bars may have made him cagey, stoic and sometimes cold but he had needs and feelings like any regular person. He should have tried hard to push the feelings down knowing he didn't deserve them and that they could jeopardise his role as leader but a more optimistic part of him felt that he needed to hold onto this need for companionship to stop him from becoming completely hollow.
Stopping he withdrew both his hands from her body and turned her around to face him. Though she'd tried to hide her face Lot felt that it was important she look at him when he answered her. "I need you" he said ducking a little to meet her rich brown eyes, "You stir things in me I thought I'd forgotten how to feel," like making him smile and laugh and generally remember that life wasn't a complete pile of shit. He smiled every morning when he felt her body next to his and had entertained the idea of having her there every morning for the rest of his life on several occasions. He knew he wasn't done repenting for Florence's death and he wanted to wait for that to pass before giving himself to mustang but when he looked around the room and saw the small, so far controlled, clusters of chaos manifested in a pair of abandoned pants and an unmade bed, part of him suspected he was done waiting, that it may be time finally to move on. Trouble was part of him was scared to be happy. afraid that after all these years it had been his sorrow that defined him.
"I am drawn to you like a moth to the flame, you have bewitched me," and then to further prove this he kissed her, his mouth slanting over hers to deepen it, his arms circling her waist.
Mustang sank into his kiss, listening to him talk, tell her things she never expected to hear from him. Just for today she would believe him, see the sincerity in his eyes even if it wasn’t really there, choose to see love even if there wasn’t any. Wasn’t it festive to be in love this time of year anyway rather than just whoring herself out. Christmas had never been a good time of year for her, even back when she’d had a family, because other than her brother, she’d never really felt that the people that shared the overstuffed Gilchrist home were her family.
Mustang leaned into him as he broke the kiss, not attempting to move away from him and smiling at his last words. “Did you get that from a movie or something?” She teased softly, before kissing him again.
Lot rolled his eyes, “I haven’t seen a movie with lines that good in 9 years,” he scoffed, “I’m offended that you would even think I’d dare to use recycled material with you,” he gave her a chastising squeeze. Looking down at her he exhaled, his mood picking up to see her smile at his words, finding that pleasing her had brought him more happiness than he’d expected. He was constantly being surprised around her and that was as nice as it was frightening.
He slid his hands down her waist to pull up the hem of her top, “I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” he confessed as if pained to admit it.
“They haven’t even made a movie in three years.” Mustang kissed him, grinning at the smile on his face. “It’s a shame they don’t have video cameras any more, we could blur out your face to retain your dignity and make a bomb off it...no internet, there’s gotta be a lot of frustrated pervs who can’t get any themselves.”
“Mmm, maybe I am...Better help me get out of my clothes then.” She lifted off her top.
Thinking about it it was quite tragic that video camera’s were now redundant. Remembering some of the things they’d done together a recording would have kept him very warm during the nights she was absent from his bed. Though if they both continued down the road they were on the amounts of nights he spent alone wouldn’t outweigh the number of nights he spent with her. That being said he wasn’t sure he wanted anyone else to know about the multitude of things she could do with her body and to his. He’d once made the mistake of thinking about her with other men and was unexpectedly overcome with jealousy, after that he’d employed an ‘ignorance is bliss’ attitude and didn’t think about it again.
“I don’t think they’d be able to handle it,” he boasted with a shamelessly arrogant smile sliding the zipper to her pants down and pushing them over her hips so she could kick them off. There was something very empowering about having her naked in front of him whilst he was still fully clothed and he savoured the image. He felt like the big bad wolf and she a helpless red riding hood. He turned them both and walked her backwards until she hit the door lightly.
“Arms up,” he commanded gently but firmly waiting for her to oblige so he could tie her to the hook
Mustang stretched up to let him tie her to the hook on the door, as the red scarf secured her to his bedroom door, kicking off her black jeans. As luck would have it she was far too busy arching her back to display her breasts to worry about the fact, that in a world without electricity, they’d be a bitch to iron. Never mind, she was Lot’s girl now, she’d get one of the others to do it.
“They wouldn’t, but it might be fun, maybe we should give them something to listen to instead?” Mustang teased. Her nipples pebbled at the look on her lovers face and she licked her lips, dampening one set to match the other, prepared for whatever he wanted to do with her, do with her. She’d been whipped, spanked, cut, shared, in fact there was more than one scar on her body that was the mark of ill usage, and as the scarf pulled the muscles of her shoulders she would have freely admitted she liked the extra spark that came with risk and pain.
The sight of her body perfectly displayed and completely at his mercy rendered Lot temporarily speechless. His erection stiffened anew and he felt the pain as if someone had stabbed him in the gut. He wanted to make this last for her but how could he do that if even the sight of her bared before him had his arousal going into overdrive. Licking his lips Lot ran his hands over her hips, down her back and cupped her ass palming the flesh, familiarising himself with it all over again. With his mouth he trailed kisses down her neck and towards a nipple. He captured the peak in his mouth and bit down softly delighting in her groan of approval, or had it been his? He was starting to lose control. He wanted to say something but words were still evading him so he did the next best thing and he sank to his knees positioning his face between her legs. He kissed her belly and trailed his tongue lightly over a scar that he always wondered about before arriving at the top of her groin. His hands gripped the backs of her thighs one coming towards the middle so that he could slide a finger into her while he tongued her clit slowly.
He felt his dick stir in his pants and he entertained the idea of stroking himself off but thought better of it and instead focused his attention on her. Focused on lapping slowly, sucking, flicking and fucking her with his hand. Breaking away he gazed up at her as if awed.
Mustang arched her back even more as he bit down on her nipple, letting out a soft groan as the combination of his hands on her, his gentle biting and the pull on her shoulders. Mostly she had to fake it with the johns, but the fact was Lot wasn’t a normal John. His arousal for her seemed endless, he wanted her to stay in his bed when he was done with her. She never wanted him to be done with her. He could fuck her dry and just keep going.
As he sank between her legs she let out another moan, the feeling of his mouth on her, his fingers inside her. She felt her weight begin to shift onto her knees. She still wasn’t used to it, someone else getting her off.
He could kneel between her legs all day. Not only did she look amazing as her body quivered with pleasure but she tasted and sounded good as she writhed under his tongue. As he licked her he groaned, matching hers, subtly rocking his own hips trying to ease his pain with the friction of his jeans against his hard on. He could barely take it, he wanted to keep it all about her but just hearing how much she enjoyed it was driving him to despair and he wasn't about to come in his pants like an inexperienced teenager. He should have known that having her at his mercy when he was in such a state was going to make it nearly impossible for him to remain in control. With a growl he pulled away from her standing up and freed her from her confines at the door. Forcing her legs around his waist he picked her up and threw her down to the bed not following until he'd ridden his body of his own shirt, his muscles tensing causing the images on his skin to ripple as if they too were unable to be unaffected by her.
"You have me all worked up," he admitted his voice gravelly. He had to be inside her so badly he almost couldn't get his belt off to drop his trousers.
Mustang moaned again as he released her from her bonds, hoping he wasn’t done with her, she had been so close to orgasm when he stopped that as he forced her legs around his waist she was sure he had to be able to feel how wet she was through his jeans. She watched him undress, her eyes dilated as she watched the tattoos on his skin move. She knew they were just prison ink, but to her they meant he was tough, could take care of himself and they’d turned her on from the first time she saw them. Now that he was hers, they only pushed her buttons more. She pushed her fingers up into herself, continuing what he started, getting herself off as he struggled with his belt, her eyes on his and a wicked smile on her face as with one foot raised to keep him off her she made him watch her come. Not a small orgasm, but a huge toe curling rip tide, her hips lifting clear off the bed. He may have been her leader, but she happened to like being worshipped by this beautiful man, and she wasn’t done yet.
He's just managed to get his pants over his ass when she pushed her foot against him and started to finish what he'd started. He stared down at her incredulous, caught between being so turned on and a little pissed at being denied. He watched as she bucked from the caresses of her own hand and he bit his lip to keep from batting her foot away and forcing himself deep inside of her. If she wanted to play it that way then so be it.
When she was done he stared at her and slowly, wordlessly, got off the bed. Kicking his jeans off he rounded to the side of the bed and grabbed her leg yanking her towards him and once she was close enough he flipped her over so she was laying on her front. He then manoeuvred her so she was hanging off the edge of the bed her torso resting on the mattress and her knees nearly touching the floor.
"It's not nice to tease," he bent over and murmured in her ear his palm resting high on the back of her thigh, "You know what happens to bad girls who tease?" His hand came down firmly on her ass the crack echoing, "They get punished,"
Mustang cried out as his hand came into contact with her skin, but there was no pain in it, just arousal, even as she felt the pain spreading as her skin pinked. She wet her lips and raised her ass to him. “I’m sorry I was a bad girl Lot, teach me a lesson.” The tone of her voice didn’t speak of repentance, it still reverberated with teasing. She knew he liked to hurt her, as much as he liked to give her pleasure and she liked to let him. Whatever stresses he needed to grind out within her body she would allow it. Tied to the back of the door, staked out on his bed, nearly worn out and sore, her body unable to cope with any more as he continued to use her. The only thing she wouldn’t allow him to do was share her...unless it was with Niro, she’d been with him, and while he was violent, he had introduced her to choking sex, which she’d enjoyed.
His hand came down once again on her a red palm print beginning to bloom on her smooth pale skin. He hadn’t meant to hit her so hard but at the absence of her protest he came down again, the red finally thickening, the shape of his becoming visible. A savage thrill of power ripped through him. Florence would never have let him do this, this would have been something more akin to abuse. He felt wrong for thinking of her during this time and to remind him that these women were very different from one another he brought his hand down on Mustang again. Her grunts spurred him on and with one hand he released himself from the confines of his underwear and then positioned himself at her slipping the head of his hard on up and down her, coating himself with her arousal. He brought a slap down on the opposite cheek and afterwards slipped effortlessly inside of her his moan loud and uncontrollable. For a moment he didn’t move just sat buried inside of her warmth, enjoying the feel of her gripping him, “Fuck,” he bit out.
“That’s what I want you to do. If I’m a bad girl, make me pay...fuck me, hurt me...over and over...it’s what I want too...I’m yours.” Mustang pushed her hips back into him, grunting, knowing she was pushing him, her not letting him take control was what had pushed him to this today, and this was what she liked. As a whore she had so often either had to be or was chosen to be a ball stomping dominatrix, when in reality what really got her off was no control at all. Before the Pulse she’d met a john who had liked to dress her up as his wife, strap her to the bed and watch three men take turns with her pussy, mouth and ass, or stick her in a ball gag, put a vibrator in her ass and fuck her until she could take no more, normally after the other three were done with her, her clamped nipples were red and sore and her skin was sticky with sweat and cum. It was a long, very well paid and relatively safe gig and she’d loved it.
He didn’t want to hurt her, sure it was fun in the moment but Lot didn’t want to inflict irreparable harm, harm that would leave not only physical but mental scars on her body. Sometimes her lack of protest made him worry. He knew that in her business what the client wanted the client got but how many had abused that? But that being said there were ways in which it suited him. He wasn’t read for safe slow loving sex, wasn’t even sure he was capable of it anymore not if this was anything to go by. He didn’t save her feelings or stop to ask if she was okay as he rutted behind her, hard and fast. He dug his fingers into her hips bringing her back to meet him thrust for thrust not allowing her to adjust herself or slow so that she could keep up with what was comfortable with her. He liked to lavish attention and pleasure upon her but sometimes it all got a bit much and at the end he was stripped down and consumed by his own primal needs. With his knees he moved her own further apart so he could push himself even deeper into her. He slowed replacing his shallow advances for long deep ones that hit until his stomach touched the top of her ass. He stuck his finger in his mouth coating it in spit and then slipped it underneath her finding her clit and circling it slowly. He was desperate to come but he didn’t want to do it without her, without her felt too much like she was doing a job and despite that being her ‘purpose’ in life he didn’t want her to feel that way with him. He could feel his orgasm building up inside him, rolling through his legs making his balls tighten. He could feel the way she gripping him, tightening and flexing practically milking him. “You’re so tight,” he groaned trying to keep his thrust controlled but he could feel himself nearing the edge.
Mustang’s eyes rolled back in her head as his finger found her clit, feeling his skin on hers as his stomach hit her ass, she wished she could understand what it was she felt when she was with him, but even now, as he controlled her and she felt her hips bruising beneath his fingers, her body filled by him, stretched and pushed by his demands she knew, with complete certainty that any pain was temporary. Mustang felt her muscles pulling him deeper, bottoming him out in her. At this point she’d be telling most people to pull out, not to cum in her, because the ability to deal with unwanted pregnancies was much more medieval these days, but with Lot it felt like leaving the job half finished, and because he concentrated on getting her off more often than not she was too turned on to think about it. Which was exactly how she felt now as she came, shaking and wilting into the mattress.
Lot felt her start to grip him, her muscles spasming as her orgasm took hold of her, overwhelming her body. The feel of it was more than enough to rip his own moan of ecstasy from the bottom of his lungs and he came spending hard inside her, unconcerned with the more serious consequences and just focusing on how fucking good it felt to come. Panting he thrust a handful more times before pulling out, hooking his arms around her and bring her back off of the bed to sit in front of him so he could rest with her skin against his. His lips found her neck and he dusted the skin there and across her back with feather light kisses. His breathing was laboured as his heart tried to slow down to normal but he sighed, “That was amazing,” he smiled against her skin the serotonin in his body making him soppy turning him into some sort of temporarily love sick puppy. After that admission he said nothing and instead just sat there with her in his arms, her heat against his, listening to her breathing as well as his own. These were the moments he enjoyed. The sex was mind blowing but the quiet moments where they both embraced one another and forgot about their duties or the reality that lay outside the door, those moments were the ones he learnt to truly enjoy.
Mustang leaned into him, chuckling. “You keep me around because I’m amazing, and I stay because you are.” She muttered between panting breaths, smiling as he kissed her back and neck. He was different to anyone else she’d been with since before she’d become a hooker, since she was sixteen. After that she’d used her body and never once considered it as anything more than a commodity to contain her troubled mind.
She turned her head and kissed him softly. “Sally Gilchrist...My name is Sally Gilchrist and that name is not to be used outside this room...Merry Christmas.” Mustang murmured
Lot blinked, his eyes choosing to linger closed just to savour the minutes, to prolong this feeling of content. Once his mind kicked back in and reminded him of who he was, what he’d been, what he’d done the feelings of contentment would be but a distant memory. She was amazing, or at least unlike anyone he’d ever been involved with before, but he didn’t shower her with compliments, in Lot’s experience excessive praises to ones person from another in the heat of the moment strayed very quickly from genuine to superficial. But he appreciated the compliments she paid him, sometimes believing that they were sincere.
“Sally,” he said softly testing the word out, seeing how it felt on his tongue, at the forefront of his mind. It was unexpected if only because Sally was such a traditional name that in the coming years it had faded to be associated only with the older generation as the baby boomers chose more modern names. Now of course nobody went by the names given to them by their parents. Sally explained her nickname though. “Sally Gilchrist,” her last name included a biblical reference. No matter how hard he tried he was never free from reminders of his past. It was almost tempting to think of it as destiny. A man on the run from the shames of his past should find solace in a woman who would inadvertently always remind him of it - forcing him to accept it? Or forcing him to forever repent? “Mustang Sally,” he teased shutting the soured thoughts away in the dark box at the back of his mind and kissing her.
“No one’s said that name in so many years.” Mustang said softly, her chin wobbling slightly, before her face reset, glad she had her back to him so he couldn’t see her weakness. The last person to say her name had been her brother Thomas, the last time she ever saw him, long before the Pulse. “That was the song they set me off dancing to, before I was upgraded to whore, the club owner thought he was funny. They called me Mustang and I had a little cowboy hat and plastic guns.” Mustang chuckled softly, remembering the brief flash of nerves before she realised all these caterwauling pervs would pay her to dance...and within weeks she’d figured out they would pay much more for more. That way she’d managed to pay for her apartment and clear most of her brother’s school fees so one of them didn’t have to lose their whole life.
“Lot, not that this isn’t nice...but it’s not because my feet are going numb.” Mustang teased him softly.
Quietly Lot disentangled himself from her but only to allow himself the room to pick mustang up and throw her onto the bed. He wasn't planning on surfacing for hours yet and even then he imagined he'd only be at the casino for an hour or two tops, just long enough to say hello and look like the responsible capable leader he played at. Tucking her under the mountain of sheets and then himself his sudden onset of soft hearted tenderness had yet to fade and so he pulled her gently to his side allowing her body to warm his and vice versa.
"Did you like dancing?" He asked keeping his tone free from anything that could resemble judgement.