abraxaslogs | If I think too hard about what we're doing I'll feel really bad about it (Open/Closed)

See, every so often Abby could convince herself she was cool, confident, and capable of being a real fucking person. And then a guy says something like that to her and she squirms uneasily in her seat. Using her hand to hide the somewhat unhinged smile that forms in response. Did he have to fucking use musical jargon is his metaphor. That seemed fucking excessive, and rude since she spelled out her weakness to it.

"I assume you have a place in mind?" She didn't really plan for any of this. Planning was for nerds, after all. And she was really only suppose to be here to make friends not make friends so such activity was not on the itinerary.

"I might know a few places."

The twinkle in Mat's eyes and the curve of his grin say that he most certainly knows places. Not that would likely be agreeable for actual sex, but a bit of fooling around? That's not a problem.

And fooling around can be just as much fun as proper sex. It's not about getting off, after all. The lead up is far more interesting and varied. As long as everyone involved enjoys themselves, who cares how far it gets?

"Sometimes the darkness of Nocwich is quite advantageous."

Given that, his boyfriend lives in not Thorne, it doesn't actually surprise Abby he's so ready with a place in mind. And the level of certainty he's showing does put her at ease.

Which is undermined by that uncool giddy feeling this all has. This is a lot closer to what her days should be compared to her and Jesper. Something ill conceived but feels very correct to do in the moment.

Abby finishes her drink, "It is a lovely night for frolicing, isn't it. I suppose you'll lead the way to whatever spot you have in mind."

"It's always a lovely night in Nocwich!"

Perhaps a very easy jest to make, but Mat can't help it. And it's true, this place is lovely and there's something enchanting about the eternal night. Which does make it lovely for a bit of mild trysting. The sort that can be done clothed and without getting chased off by any offended passersby.

"Just follow me."

He offers her his arm as they stand, flashing another grin.

"It has to rain sometimes." Which as she says it, she realizes just gives different opportunities. So many people wear white shirts and that absolutely would be delightful in that weather. She lets the thought linger in her mind a little smile on her face.

She could daintily take his arm and be all lady-like. Or, consider, she could just cling to his arm somewhat too energetically to be anything but excitable. Which is what she goes for because lady-like is for people who don't say fuck as much as she does.

"What about your other date?" Abby nods toward the instrument case. Not that it'll do much help in their plans, she just doesn't know if this is a safe place to stow it while they... enjoy the lovely night.

"Even the rain has its charms!" What's more thrilling than huddling together in scant shelter, soaked through to the skin... Rain has its charms indeed.

"And fear not, I am on no strict schedule. I play when I play. I'm free to devote my time and attention to you, lovely. Perfectly safe to leave it here, the barkeep'll watch it. She does it every month for me."

Mat leads her around behind the tavern and stalls, down a little dead end alley bathed in shadow and well out of the way. He likes it as there's no doors or other little alleys into it, and it's easy to hear anyone coming if they wander this way.

Well, with his instrument safely stowed and them on their way Abby simply needs to enjoy the building tension in her head. The 'am I really doing this' of it all. With Press she had days to prepare, and very little concern about how it'd go. She'd known that asshole for so long. With Jesper she had a lingering fear it was a long con, and when that was broken it was just the awkwardness of a first time. This- she knew him only through who he knew.

It was terrifying.

She was very turned on.

...She needed therapy.

Abby swings from hanging on his arm to leaning against the wall. Posing, really, this is all meant for her to be seen. Fashion in the Cities lead Abby to dressing much more like a mobster than she ever expected in her life. She dressed casually for the trip, pinstripe slacks and an untucked red sleeveless blouse. There are lines for an undershirt to help keep anything from poking through.

"Here I am, where would you like to start?" How much of this is her playing coy, or she is entirely unsure of where she should start. He offered to play her like a symphony after all. Still, she can maybe start them off. Her casual two buttons undone, becomes a scandalizing five buttons, opening most of her shirt to show her white undershirt, tight against her skin.

"Well I admit, I'm something of a traditional lad..."

Mat just watches a moment, quite enjoying the view. Who is he to spoil it? But he isn't here just to look. Leaning forward, he puts one hand on the wall, angling himself towards her. Light, she is pretty.

And feisty. He's always liked feisty.

"I find a bit of kissing is usually a very good starting point."

One hand still on the wall beside her, his other comes up to cup the side of her face. There's callouses on his fingers from instrument strings but his skin is soft, well cared for. Despite looking as though he has only a passing acquaintance with the concept of a comb, he's a vain man. He has as many oils and softening waxes for his hair and skin as he does his theorbo.

"If the lady's not opposed?"

Abby wanted to say something smart, something that fed the illusion of control, that she had any idea what she was doing or how to do it in a cool manner.

"I'd like that."

There was too much chewing on her lip. Too much of her skin on fire for more contact, different contact. Although she pressed her face into his hand easily, not concerned much over how soft or calloused it was, more that it was there, and that's what mattered. All that came together so she couldn't really manage 'cool.' She was, at best, cute and needy.

She shifted her weight enough to move from the heel to the toes so she could decrease the height difference as much as she could on her end. Her hand on the collar of his shirt, not tugging him close. But definitely suggesting he doesn't get to leave right now.

That's all Mat needs.

At Abby's urging, he dips his head down to catch her mouth with his own. He's teasing at first, brief brushes of lips on lips and then pulling away with a little grin. It's a lovely whatever-time-of-day it is here, he's in no rush.

Her mouth tastes like the drink they'd had and the heat off of her body is intoxicating. As is the hand in his shirt, gripping him like that. He always like a lass with a commanding hand and a good tight grip.

His own hand begins to wander, trailing down her neck, fingers brushing against her skin. He's always been a tactile person, and his body angles into hers. There's that particular little excitement that always come from the first encounter with someone new. It's all a discovery, an adventure into the unknown. Where does she most like being touched? What sort of little noises does she make when pleased? Does she use nails and teeth, or does she have a softer touch?

Mat thinks not. He thinks she's likely a teeth and nails sort of girl.

Teasing kisses are a bit of a surprise. That's not what Norah or Max was about, and Jesper. So she did try to hold the kiss with him immediately pulling back. She's not going to claim she wasn't afraid this was some trick, the thought was there. Thankfully a second kiss filled that space.

Having both enjoyed the same drink limits the level of where one of them ends and the other begins. Which isn't something she'd considered but very much makes this more enjoyable.

Abby's noises are subtle, shifts in her breathing, little gasps as his hand moves over skin she's not used to being explored. Hands on the back of her shoulder cause the most reaction, but that's just of what he's explored. To make this easier Abby's hand not keeping Mat from leaving undo a few more buttons, but not all. Then helpfully slips her shirt off one shoulder.

She lets go, long enough for her shirt to hang around her waist not doing much covering, only for her hand to return higher, not on his collar anymore. Holding his neck and jaw, thumb brushing just under his ear. Still a move of keeping him close, but guised in some other language.

Mat takes advantage of every new bit of bare skin. His hand trails down her arm as he deepens the kiss, the tip of his tongue flicking against her lips. Her undershirt is not particularly substantial and he can feel the heat of her through it like a brand. Deliberately, the back of his hand brushes against her breast. There's very little fabric between them.

Her grip on his neck is tantalizing and he needs no urging to keep himself close to her. His blood's stirring and he'd have to be pulled away at this point. Light, what a delightful turn of events! He certainly hadn't expected to be slipping off to a secluded spot for a bit of sporting, but he's quite happy to be here.

Still, he lets her set the pace and follows her lead. Mat's never been a man of sternly set preferences and is generally always happy to let his partner take the lead.

So, thankfully Mat was not the first person to get Abby into this situation, otherwise they would be at this forever not really going further. Because Abby talks a big game, but she's terrified of all manner of intimacy. Even if the situation meant she'd likely keep her pants over her thighs at least.

A small measure of mercy, that.

Still, kissing and being explored are hardly bad things, so she lets that continue for a bit. Not wanting to break the spell by being too needy, instead she guides his hand that had teased her breast to a more specific purchase on her waist, while she carefully hikes her undershirt up so it quickly is lead to skin. Which hopefully says more than she needs words for as to where it should be.

Mat is easily led, and his hand goes where Abby directs it. His palm presses into the bare skin of her side, fingers curled around her back to tease her there. His fingertips dance patterns against her, quick and light as though he were playing a simple melody. The intro to a more complex piece, a prelude just setting the stage.

Slowly he slides his hand upwards, following the line of her body. He slips up beneath her undershirt, nips at her bottom lip gently.

His other hand joins in, carding through her hair. She's got gorgeous hair. The color of it's rich and strong, like polished red wood. And it's soft. A fellow could lose himself in hair like that.

Given his hand in her hair, and the other past her last article of clothing above the waist, she felt comfortable he wasn't going anyway, moving her hand from his head down to his shoulder. Still keeping him close, but more exploring and less trapping going on.

Her other hand, meanwhile, right on his ass. With a gentle squeeze. Being bold, so far, has paid off and moved things further along.

After a few moments more in the kiss she does need to come up for air, or at least move her lips to his neck. Letting soft sighs and tiny shallow breaths in the process. Enjoying but nothing as dedicated as a moan. Yet.

If I think too hard about what we're doing I'll feel really bad about it (Open/Closed)

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