( men and their cocks. parisa knows it's a bit of prideful concession, an admittance that cuts a little deeper than skin, but the words give her goosebumps like a whisper trailing up her spine — someone cutting themselves down to size because she told them to is like bathing in the sun, like burning a candle in her cunt making everything warm and wet. power is this amorphous thing that exists in her, because she has it, she knows she has it, but she only has it because someone has given it to her, because people clock her societal value the first time they look at her. she's five feet of raw sexuality hiding a decomposing corpse inside, but she's never the strongest person in the room. at the very least, that honor belongs to whoever she opts to give her attention to.
not that carmy is walking like a tall man. he goes into that bad night with intention, pulled by the strings of his self worth, or lack thereof. he doesn't act like he's humoring parisa — in fact, he seems to believe it. yes, this pipsqueak in a short skirt with sex in her eyes owns me. i'm a worm.
that, more than anything, makes carmy parisa's new favorite person. )
It's okay.
( forgiven for all the sins of his shortcomings, which are numerous and vast, but not anything she's listed so far. that was bullying. the butter soft pad of her thumb rubs against his cockhead, complimented by the brief pain of her manicured nail across his slit. she draws her hand out and presses that thumb to his mouth — soft, pouty lips, an expression like a dog waiting to be put down. )
Yes, you will. We've got all night. ( promise — carmy's not going to hit and quit this one. she gives him a playful slap on the cheek. ) Come somewhere more private with me.
( parisa slips aside and makes a heading towards one of the curtained rooms for private entertaining. carmy will have to deal with his jeans himself. )
no subject
not that carmy is walking like a tall man. he goes into that bad night with intention, pulled by the strings of his self worth, or lack thereof. he doesn't act like he's humoring parisa — in fact, he seems to believe it. yes, this pipsqueak in a short skirt with sex in her eyes owns me. i'm a worm.
that, more than anything, makes carmy parisa's new favorite person. )
It's okay.
( forgiven for all the sins of his shortcomings, which are numerous and vast, but not anything she's listed so far. that was bullying. the butter soft pad of her thumb rubs against his cockhead, complimented by the brief pain of her manicured nail across his slit. she draws her hand out and presses that thumb to his mouth — soft, pouty lips, an expression like a dog waiting to be put down. )
Yes, you will. We've got all night. ( promise — carmy's not going to hit and quit this one. she gives him a playful slap on the cheek. ) Come somewhere more private with me.
( parisa slips aside and makes a heading towards one of the curtained rooms for private entertaining. carmy will have to deal with his jeans himself. )