(Untitled)

[sweetsalome]

No joke, Salome changed her mind sixteen times when trying to decided if she wanted to meet her birth mom.  It wasn't that she was scared but there was a real thought and fear that she would just lose it in the middle of the conversation and she didn't want to lose it.  Her father would get upset at Amanda and it wasn't this woman's fault that

Comments

[soursanguine]

Of course he loves it. If he didn't love it he'd tell them all to fuck off and go live in a cabin in the woods by himself. But he adores his women--his Salome, his Delilah, Susan who isn't his and never will be--and all the challenges that come with them, even if it means giving up counter space

[soursanguine]

Of course, they'll be putting the cart before the horse when it comes to all that, since Salome's little blue car is presently waiting for its new owner in Susan's garage, but the odds of Salome complaining are likely slim. She might complain when he's not allowed to drive it on her own until they get down to the DMV, but that probably won't be too long.

Richard smirks and nods. "I certainly wasn't about to relax, but I didn't have a panic attack or anything. I made sure that it was a low-traffic time of evening before I let her behind the wheel, so that helps." He concerns about the test make him laugh, though; he reaches over to pat her hand. "You'll do fine. You do fine driving me around, driving an instructor won't be any different. However, I seem to recall failing my first time, so there's that."

Reassuring, this one.

[sweetsalome]

There will be a few nights of sleeping in the car until she is allowed to drive it on her own. There will a camp out and it will have that new car smell, awesome. Spoiled girl camping, its the new "roughing it" of the 21st century. Bitches be crazy.

"That's true, you did very good, no one cried. You or me, and that's always a good thing. I get very worked up sometimes, my dad has the patience of a saint."

That makes Amanda smile, truly pleased. "You got a god dad, I'm real happy that you're doing so well. That drivers test will be fine, your dad will see you through, no sweat."

[soursanguine]

It'll be like the couple of times Richard helped her set up a fort in the back yard so she could go 'camping', but with five times the ridiculous joy. She'll probably put the seats back and roll around in it, too.

He chuckles low. The patience of a saint, indeed. He always knew when she was two and having those tantrums that she'd be a handful as a teenager. He just never realized quite how big a handful.

Yeah, bitch, she does have a good dad. Let her judge her little heart out,he's an excellent father if you ignore the details or are otherwise unaware of them. Richard squeezes Salome's wrist and attends to his own food, glancing subtly down to his watch now and then while he eats and listens, attempting to be unobtrusive as possible while the two women bond. Said saintly patience is rather poorly demonstrated in a situation such as this; but, well. This ooey-gooey long-lost-family-member bonding is making him sick

[sweetsalome]

There is some more small talk over the rest of the meal, just general chitchat, nothing very important or earth shattering. Some general catching up. It wasn't nearly as awkward or horrible as Sal thought it would be. Both women appear rather easy going if not a little neurotic and obsessive in their thoughts at times, apparently some traits aren't purely learned.

"This was really nice," that's from Salome, Amanda nods in agreement. "Thank you for sitting down with me," Amanda seems pleased by the meeting. It went well actually.

"If you're ever in my neck of the woods again, you should look me up." Its a sincere offer from Amanda to Salome.

[soursanguine]

Richard has gotten through his third vodka tonic by the time his food is gone. After some struggle, he makes the decision to switch to water. It may not be awkward for Salome, but it's awkward for him; mostly, because he has nothing to say. Now and then, he pats Salome's thigh beneath the table, brushes his shoe up against hers. He finds himself overcome by the need to touch her, to squeeze her, to remind her and himself that she is his, and that this woman across the table means nothing

[sweetsalome]

Amanda looks a little surprised at him picking up the check, she wasn't expecting it and was actually reaching for her purse when he grabbed the waiter and took care of the bill. "Thank you for dinner, it was nice." Richard can have his simmering jealousy, neither woman appears to be aware of t and if Salome were too find out about it, she would be a little bit amused, and that would certainly explain where she gets her attitudes from in that regard

[soursanguine]

A gentleman is a gentleman is a gentleman, even when he's filled with poison. There are appearances to maintain, and there's a bigger person for him to be. Even his generosity in covering the check and the tip is spiteful--'look at how much better than you I am.'

Even a card at Christmas is too much, in his opinion, but it's none of his business. He'll just have to make sure she sends it from her mother's house, he doesn't want this bitch getting her hands on his address. No goddamn way.

Richard stands after the women and stands politely behind, looking askance until they part ways; as she begins to make her way back to him, he nods toward the old woman and turns to lead the way out of the restaurant and to the elevators. As he hits the 'up' button, he glances to Salome with a mild smile.

"See, baby? I told you it'd go fine. Seems to me that went better than fine." As he steps into the elevator, his grin grows crooked. "In more ways than one, too."

[sweetsalome]

"Mmmmm you were right, you're always right, dad," her arm around his middle she presses close into him as he steps into the elevator. She hits the 'door closed' button a few times to make sure that no one follows them and when the door shuts she slips her hand into his pocket so she can rub his cock through the thin lining of his pants pocket

[soursanguine]

Now that's what he likes to hear. Of course he's always right. He grins lopsidedly as she loops her arm around his waist, the warmth of her body divine. Not near as divine as her hand, though, that sends a sudden electric shock exploding straight up into his skull while muted pleasure radiates from his trousers

[sweetsalome]

He has such a strong kiss, and strong hand on the nape of her neck, twisting and bending her in such a way to make her gasp and groan against his lips, her hand squeezing around his cock. He gets so hard, so fucking fast, and as much as she liked playing nurse to him she loves it when he gets so, so hard, he could pound nails. And when he starts stalking to her, the words cut right through her and her hips arch up against him, rubbing and grinding against his thigh till he pulls away

[soursanguine]

Oh, he needs her. He needs her bad. But the secret to being a grown-up is having self-control, and being able to resist what teenagers can't. Or so he's heard, anyway. His general opinion is that self-control is overrated--but when it comes to tormenting his darling Salome, he finds it a delightful ability. Particularly when he can restrain himself while she grinds herself against his thigh like the desperate little animal she is

[sweetsalome]

"For shame, for shame," she lowers her voice to mimic his sound, her eyes locked on his as his arm wraps around her and she falls against his chest. She could get drunk off of his mouth, he tastes like liquor and tonic. She will get drunk off of his mouth, as if her tongue could lap at the vodka that he has absorbed and drank through the night. She could. She will. She will try. He pulls her to the room and she finds herself slipping from her sandals and kicking them into the room before she is even in it

[soursanguine]

Every second she doesn't move her hands from his arms is another second his entire body burns, from the marrow of his bones to the surface of his flesh. There's fire raging in his eyes the very second she asks that question. Even though she's just playing, it's funny how it can incite such wild desire, such a frantic need to remind her

[sweetsalome]

Head back, her fingers in the dark hair of the head that is currently buried against her throat. Fuck. It's his lips, his teeth. He is going to make her scream and scream. Does she trust him. She trusts him more then she trust that the sun will rise in the East and set in the West. A gasp in and she tugs on the dark of his hair. "Yes, I trust you. I trust you more then anything, dad

[soursanguine]

Trusting him is a terrible thing for anyone to do, but it makes his heart beat like a drum to hear how much she believes in him. It's satisfying, makes him glow for joy. His blood pounds with power as much as adrenaline, to know that he can have such control over her, her mind, her body