The drinks and the chat with Jim had done a lot to help bolster her mood following the change in weather. Mostly the drinks; talking about all the recent events here and her past was only adding to her homesickness, and Jim reminding her of Abel brought all the wrong thoughts into her head. As she climbed the stairs back to her room, she realized that being alone was not what she wanted right now. Needed, she mentally amended, the liquor warming her body and making her mind spin a little. She recalled the nice man who had made her breakfast the other morning -- Damon. Sounds like demon, she mentally laughed to herself, all the religious talk bringing the term forward easily. He was on the same floor as her, just in the opposite direction. Altering her path, she made her way over and knocked, Abel's jacket trailing from her fingers onto the floor. Without waiting for a response, and without any thought to privacy or social niceties, she turned the knob and let herself in.
Luckily, Damon hadn’t been watching the cam feeds for once. He’d returned not long ago from downstairs where he’d had dinner and grabbed a bottle of wine to bring upstairs with him, and he was sitting on his couch with a Stephen King book he’d found in the study. He didn’t really read anything extensively, but horror came closer than anything else to catching his interest. When Theo entered his room before he could tell her to come in, he was slouched down in his seat wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants, ankles crossed, book held in front of his face. He didn’t stand on propriety… anyone in the house would have been welcome to enter his room except for Simms, who’d already been told he’d best not even think about it if he were to be set free from his cell.
Damon lowered the book, then tossed it onto the cushion next to him as he sat up. “Evening,” he said, intrigued by her sudden appearance.
Theo's gaze moved around the room, her eyes wide and greedily drinking up what she saw. "If I didn't like my room so much, I'd say I got the short end of the stick." She looked back to Damon, gaze raking up his form and pausing on the scars raging up his right side. Her curiosity was replaced by a faint tinge of worry, and she moved away from the doorway into the space without hesitation. Theo closed the distance between them, draping her brother's jacket over the coffee table just in front of the couch. The hand that had been holding the jacket gestured at his chest.
"What happened?"
“I’ll have to see yours sometime,” Damon said. It was interesting how every room was different and so very attuned to the individual taste of its occupant. He’d never had anything like this back home, but it was the kind of room he’d always felt he deserved, and here it was. When Theo mentioned his scars, he traced over the visible ones with the tips of his fingers, almost idly. They stretched up from beneath his waistband all along his right side and then below it, carving an arc down his hip and onto his upper thigh. “Shed fire when I was a teenager,” he said. “It caught on fire with my stepdad inside it, and I was tryin’ to get him out.” He smiled faintly. “It was a long time ago.”
She took a few steps forward, coming between his legs; there was zero hesitation that she might be invading his personal space. Teeth sank into her lower lip as she couldn't pull her eyes away from the scarrage. One hand reached out, lightly brushing fingers over his shoulder.
"It looks like it hurt," she replied. The skin was smooth beneath her fingertips, almost like plastic. The colors of her tattoos stood out strikingly against his pale flesh. Finally her gaze roamed back up, meeting his; an impish smile quirked her mouth. "I'm a little surprised that you're not surprised about me being here. Do you get lots of random visitors?"
As expected, there was zero protest from Damon about Theo’s nearness. She didn’t look like the sort of girl who placed a lot of rules upon herself about behavior. That was just the kind of woman he liked. Sure, there wasn’t anyone he’d actually turn down, but he had preferences like everyone else. “It did at the time, yeah,” he said of his scars. Often, he didn’t think about them even though they marred one side of his body; Damon was good at letting go of the past. He had to be with the way he’d grown up.
He had to grin at her question about random visitors. “I wouldn’t say a lot, but sometimes. Random visits are the most fun I’ve had since I’ve been here.” Both receiving them and making them.
She mirrored his expression. "I like your attitude; you're definitely not letting this place get to you, huh?" Her other hand rose up and touched his left shoulder, leaving her almost leaning on him. "I was thinking, I owe you for breakfast the other day. And now that you're showing me yours, maybe we can compare." Without invitation, Theo straddled Damon's body, her legs fitting to either side of his. She brought her hands down to her Satanic-labeled shirt and pulled it up just enough to show fifteen parallel scars running along her flat stomach, each about an inch long. They were raised, softer than his but white instead of the angry red that coated his body.
"Three guesses, and if you get it right, I'll let you pick how I pay you back."
Well, then. This was exactly the kind of visit Damon liked, and his smile only widened as she sat down on his lap. If he’d known making breakfast for people could get him this, he would have done a hell of a lot more of it, he thought in amusement. A quick thinker when it came to potential opportunities, he didn’t bother asking questions or hesitating but dove straight into it. The sight of her stomach had him tilting his head to one side, thinking that the pattern of the scars looked somehow familiar. He couldn’t have said how, but it would hopefully come to him. He moved the fingers of one hand to her flesh, tracing over the raised scars, his gaze on them even as he spoke.
“What do I get if I get it wrong?” he asked. Damon was a person who liked to know all of the terms and conditions up front.
Her stomach contracted a little at his touch, his fingers running over her scars like piano keys; her breath hitched for a moment, but she held her shirt up carefully. Theo chewed her bottom lip for a moment, arching a brow while one side of her mouth quirked upward.
"I guess I get to pick. I don't think you're gonna dislike either outcome." She widened her legs a little further, sliding down half an inch. The cloth over her crotch stretched, pressing tight against her flesh.
“Good to know,” Damon said, lifting his eyes to meet hers, fingers still roaming. “I might ask if you were into self-harm, but these are too uniform,” he mused, trying to work out in his mind what was familiar about this. He himself had faint round scars on the insides of his forearms where his mother had used to put out cigarettes on him, and she might notice those if she looked close enough. “These have a purpose.” He looked down at them again, something trying to surface amidst the warm buzz of anticipation and rising lust.
"Oh I have those, but they're up here," she replied, loosing one hand to pull the sleeve back on her left arm. A criss-cross pattern of slashes made its way up into her armpit. "And down here." Fingertips slid across her inner thigh, the markings covered by her ripped jeans. She carefully kept her shirt pulled up enough so that the white markings were visible. That same hand came up and traced along his forearm, finding the swirls that were very different from her own.
"These are pretty. But I think I have to count that as guess number one -- I'll give you a hint. I've got more of these," her fingers traced over her stomach, "on my arms, and my back, and my legs. You guess right and you might get to see them."
It was interesting how Theo didn’t hesitate to show him her other scars, the ones he wouldn’t have seen yet if she hadn’t pointed them out. She had so many tattoos and her body was so amazing that he hadn’t noticed them when he’d watched her on cam. There was a lot to look at there. Most people were not that open. Maybe she was like him and didn’t care. “One guess down, two to go,” he said, leaving one hand on her stomach and sliding the other around to push beneath her shirt so he could feel the scars on her back even if he couldn’t see them. Also uniform. Stomach, back, arms, legs. Something was teasing at his memory, something he’d seen that involved scars like this.
She wriggled a little under his touch, using one hand to push her shirt up under her breasts. She was still missing undergarments -- either a bra or underwear -- and she wasn't begrudging that fact in this moment. She was going to need to launder her clothes sooner rather than later, though.
"You could try talking it through," she suggested. "I'll let you know when I count something as a guess. You're obviously not a stranger to pain." Her free hand spider-walked down his chest, over the burn scars. Touching them was enthralling; she'd never seen anyone with scars this massive, let alone from burns. "Can you feel this, when I touch you?" She pressed down a little harder, though only with her fingertips. Her head was bent, birdlike, as her eyes glanced between the scars and his face.
It was a strange sort of foreplay, but Damon had had stranger. He was half-hard already from her position on his lap and it didn’t bother him at all. He believed in going with whatever happened and he didn’t worry about offending people. He didn’t get the feeling that she’d mind. His fingers froze for a second on her back as a scene flashed into his head: music throbbing like the beat of a heart, lights flashing. Smoke billowing. A club in Chicago housed in a low building painted as black as midnight, tinted glass on the windows. There’d been people hung from wires, hooks in their flesh, on display even as people danced, drank, got high beneath them. Could that be it?
“I can feel it,” he said. “Not as much as if you touched me somewhere else, but it’s there.” His gaze was half-lidded, and he smiled at her. “Ready for my second guess?”
"Unless you like keeping me in suspense," she replied, her mouth curving much in the same fashion as his. Her fingers trailed down his chest, lightly raking nails at his scars. It was so different from the soft, pliable flesh that she was used to working with. Her hand came down to the top of his pants, edging in between the band and his waist. A thumb curved down, over his hard erection; she resituated, pressing her palm against the outline of his cock beneath the pajama pants. The feeling made her wet. "I hope you get it right."
She was bright, wasn’t she? Damon was more intelligent than the average person gave him credit for, and he loved plays on words, phrases, hints. He also loved discovering that a woman some might underestimate from her outward appearance had a lot going on upstairs. “If I keep you in suspense, you might keep me in suspense,” he said. He had a good idea where this was going whether he guessed or not, but it was fun, and that was in short supply around here for most people. “There’s a club back home I liked to visit sometimes,” he continued, his voice slightly gravelly. “They hung people from the ceiling, with hooks in their skin. How warm am I?”
Theo pressed down harder on his erection, biting her lower lip as her mouth curled into a grin. "Ding, ding," she replied, gently stroking his crotch to firm up what she was feeling beneath the surface. "You're on fire. You are going to make all of this shit worth it, I hope," she finished, implying the kidnapping, the house, and everything that everyone was saying went with it. Unable to stop herself (and Theo had never been one for moderation), she leaned forward, dropping her shirt so her other hand could steady herself on his hip as she brought her mouth down on his. Teeth slid into his lower lip, tugging. She pulled back just enough to be heard, her breath hot over his face. "So what do you want for your prize?"
If Theo wanted sexual healing to cure her of whatever ailed her, she’d come to the right place. “I’ll do my best,” he said when she told him he was going to make all of this worth it. Nothing he liked better than a challenge. He licked at her mouth as she nipped at his lip, primed and ready to go, fully hard from her deft fingers through the cloth of his pants. A smile curved his lips when she asked what he wanted for a prize. “That is the most obvious question of the night,” he said. “I want you on my dick, whatever position you like. Ladies’ choice.” He had plenty of condoms tucked away in his nightstand; it was just a matter of getting hold of one.
"Oh, aren't you the gentleman," she replied, bringing both hands up from his body to cup his face and kiss him again. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, sliding over his as her body slid forward, crushing it against his. "I'm big on making sure everyone is on the same page. The kind of stuff I like -- it tends to go south if people don't communicate."
A hand slipped down to his pants again, making itself welcome as she brushed his member. Wrapping her hand around its width, she stroked up his length as best she was able between his clothing and her close proximity, stopping only for a moment when she felt his piercing. "Oh my god, is that a fucking Prince Albert?" Theo scooted backward, glancing up at him in surprise and amusement, though in no way was she attempting a deprecating tone. If anything, the discovery was another tick in the 'pro' category.
"OK, two things then -- condoms, and lose the pants." She pulled her shirt off, revealing not only her breasts but more of her tattoos, spilling out over her collar bones and down her right side.
“Apadravya,” he corrected her with a smirk. A small distinction, but it was there nonetheless. “Glad you like.” She hadn’t said she was pleased by it, but he was going to assume she was. He watched admiringly as she took off her shirt, taking a few seconds to trace his fingers along the tats she revealed. Hot. “That’s two things I can do real easy,” he added, gently dumping her off of his lap onto the couch and getting up to move to his nightstand. He slipped off his pajama pants, leaving them wadded on the floor, and made short work of sheathing himself in the condom. Fully naked, he made his way back to the couch to either join her or lead her over to the bed, whichever she wanted.
While Damon was getting himself ready, Theo had wriggled out of her pants on the couch. That item of clothing had joined her shirt on the floor, along with her boots. Tattoos on full display, she'd put one foot on the back of the couch while the other was bent, at least somewhat covering her nudity.
"You know, most guys value their junk too much to ever do something like that. I get a lot of girls at my place of work wanting their tits pierced, but never a guy getting his dick done. That takes guts." She sat up as he walked back over, and rose up to her knees, beckoning him forward with greedy hands. "So why'd you do it?"
Damon joined her again, smiling at her question. People didn’t usually ask that, not that he minded at all. “I like to be different,” he said. “How often do you see one of these?” Well, she might have seen a bunch of them, depending on her sexual history, but Damon had gotten around quite a bit back in the real world, and they weren’t that typical in his experience. “And I’m into a little pain sometimes.” With one hand he cupped one of her breasts, using his thumb to trace the nipple, pressing himself against her as best he could with him standing and her kneeling.
"Not often," she replied. It was one thing for him to have the burn scars -- from his explanation, those were an accident. The self-harm was a different kind of pain altogether, but the piercing excited her in ways that were difficult to describe. The sudden and climactic events of the past couple of days left her wanting some familiarity, though she'd had no idea that she might find something like this. For the moment, however, she wanted to turn her brain off and just feel.
"You said ladies' choice," she replied, her breath shivering a little as his hands moved over her. Pulling him down to kneel on the couch, she shifted around to put her back to his front. "I wanna feel that piercing hit my g-spot. I hope you know how to use it." Theo bent forward, the rib and spine tattoo stretching out along her back as she rubbed her ass against his crotch. The feeling of the condom was rubbery against her skin.
Perfect. It didn’t matter how often Damon did this-- and he’d done it a hell of a lot more back home than here, for obvious reasons-- but he always enjoyed a different partner, whether friend, acquaintance or stranger. He spared the quickest glance for the nearest camera, hoping that Simms was watching so that dude could see what he was locked away from and what he was missing by not having taken Damon up on his offer a while back, then turned his complete attention to Theo. “I know how to use it, all right,” he said, then wasted no time sliding into her, adjusting his position over her for maximum comfort and impact.
Theo made a soft sound, her hips pushing back against his crotch in response to his penetration. It was an oddly pleasurable sensation, to feel that little piece of metal trace a long line up her pelvic wall. "Fuck," she muttered, eyes rolling upward, her mind instantly clearing for nothing other than the chemical impulses sliding through her form. Her hands grasped at the couch, nails sinking into the material. "So show me," she replied louder so he could hear it, twisting her hips slightly.
Given his frequent watching of the cam feeds, Damon couldn’t help but think about how this would come across to anyone viewing them. When he watched it at some point later, he would see how it differed from his mental picture. Now he devoted himself to getting the most out of this as well as giving Theo what she’d come for. And would come for, hopefully more than once. He thrust, curving his hips to give maximum impact to the spots where his piercing would feel the best. This was the most action his couch had seen since that first time with Madison.
She moaned, thrusting back against him, twisting her hips in an exaggerated movement of avarice. Though she'd only been in the house for a few days, it was enough of a dry spell that she craved something familiar. Even sex with a complete stranger was intimate enough to fulfill her need for comfort, and Theo was throwing herself into it wholeheartedly. A grin spread over her face as she sucked in air through her teeth.
"Oh my god." She worked her hips back, knees widening a little as she gripped the couch harder. Her back curved, head turning to glance back. "Fuck yes, just like that."
Theo was a beautiful sight as she thrust herself back against him and curved her back. Damon loved when a woman was enthusiastic about sex, clearly loving every second of being filled with his dick. He did his level best to follow her instructions, pushing deeper and harder, his breath a rasp in his throat. He’d never had a problem with a hot woman (or man, for that matter) telling him what to do. When it came to sex, he lived to please and he could last forever. He couldn’t stop watching her, fascinated by the way the tats seemed to move on her skin as she did.
"God, yes, do it harder," she continued, reaching back to rub her clit with her right hand while she fought for stability with her left. "Fuck, I wanna think about you fucking me in this position later. Give me something to think about." She closed her eyes, either already fantasizing about this moment in the future or allowing herself to be enraptured by the mounting feeling in her groin. "Do it a little rougher. You said you liked pain; how about...oh god...how about showing me a little of that?"
Damon was also going to be thinking about this later, over and over again. It was incredibly hot and so was she, and he could only hope this would be repeated in the future. “Anything you want,” he breathed when she asked for harder and rougher. Delivering a good pounding never went amiss in his opinion, and he picked up the pace, balancing carefully, making sure he had a good grip on the leather couch with both hands. This was not a time when one wanted to slip.
"Fuck!" Theo moaned as she was pushed further along the couch by Damon's strokes. She bent forward, her ass sticking out, pressing her face into the couch cushions as her fingers played over the tight bundle of nerves between her legs. She could feel her orgasm rising -- it never took her long to come -- and Damon's faster thrusts were quickly pulling her over the edge. The sensation suddenly blossomed in her groin, pulsing out through her body. Theo groaned, her muscles rioting with pleasure. "Fuck, just like that, don't stop, don't stop!"
Damon didn’t have objections to any kind of lover: male, female, trans, clean, dirty, took forever to come, however they might be. But he’d have to admit a special fondness for anyone who was easy to tip over that edge. It was hot, it made him feel powerful. He kept up what he was doing, soaking in the sight of that perfect ass beneath him, his cock punching in and out of her, harder, faster. She’d feel it later, possibly tomorrow too, but who was he to deny her what she wanted? She was hot and slick and it felt amazing to him too; if he kept up this pace, he wouldn’t be long behind her.
"Oh my god, oh my god!" Theo flung herself headlong into the orgasm, the sensation enveloping her whole. She felt warm, and tight, and loose, and everything all at once that was impossible to describe. Normally, she would have preferred a longer session, but in the light of recent events, this was doing just fine. She moaned again as the edge wore off, panting a little from their exertions. Pressing back against his crotch again, inciting all those lovely purple and black bruises that would dot the interior of her thighs tomorrow morning, she urged him to come inside her. "Oh god, I wanna feel it, I wanna feel it inside me. I want you to come in me."
Damon could feel her squeezing tightly around him and that only encouraged him to pump harder, do his best to give her what she wanted. Normally he’d want to slow down, hold off his orgasm, maybe encourage her to go again once she caught her breath somewhat. But he could also change up his usual preferences for someone else, especially someone who’d given him such a lovely surprise by showing up at his door with getting laid on her mind. He could hear their bare bodies slapping together, a little slick with sweat, and the sound spurred him on, too. “Yes,” he breathed as he felt his climax rising. Two, three more thrusts and he was there, his body shuddering as he spent himself inside her.
Theo wriggled against him, finally slowing to a stop with her ass pressed against his crotch. She was panting slightly, her face on her folded arms. She crawled forward a little, turning to fall on her side, and grinned up at Damon.
"That," she said, "was exactly what I needed." She folded an arm behind her head, looking as pleased as a cat who had caught a canary. "Makes me glad your room is right down the hall. I'm not one to put a lot of effort into my fuck buddies, but this is an excellent set up."
Never one to stand on ceremony, Damon settled back onto the other end of the couch, his legs pulled up slightly to provide room for both of them. He chuckled at what she said, gazing at the ceiling and wishing he still smoked… and that he had cigarettes. That was the only thing that could make this more perfect. “You can visit me anytime,” he said. “I make house calls, too.” He smirked, thinking of visiting Lila recently with a bottle of Grand Mariner. That had turned out well.
"Ooo, I do like the sound of that." She grinned widely, laying back on the couch as her body wound down. Her tongue wound around her lips as she stared at the ceiling, and then she rose to a sitting position, pushing herself up until her legs slid around down to the floor.
"The perfect end to this evening is a bubble bath, and if the assholes who're in charge of all of this did up my bathroom as well as I expect, I think I have a nice surprise waiting for me." She grabbed her pants, pulling them on. Glancing at Damon, another question rose to mind. "Oh, I am curious -- how good are you with rope?"
Damon turned his head to watch Theo as she got up and began getting dressed, a lazy smile etching his lips at her question. “I’d say I’m better than average with it,” he said. Since she was up, he stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. “But you got any new tricks to teach me, I’m a fast learner.” Visions of having the best fuckbuddies ever danced in his head. Really, all he needed to do now was to bag a dude, for variety’s sake.
Theo grabbed her shirt and made a short display of pulling it teasingly over her head.
"Probably just the same old same old, but it's hard to find a good partner who's into that kind of thing. Just gonna file that away for another time," she replied. Grabbing her shoes, she moved over to the couch and leaned forward, her face hovering inches from his. "Guess I'll see you later?"
Pecking his lips, she took a few steps back while a smile lingered around her mouth. The last item she picked up was Abel's jacket, carefully retrieved from its place on the coffee table. As she headed for the door, she offered Damon one last wave before disappearing through the door she'd barged through, heading for her own.