Thread: Pushing the Envelope [Machiavelli & Sigr]

How he dared to make some puns with those green eyes gleaming playfully, how honest his laugh sounded when she joked, his natural admiration for beautiful things... was Amanda falling hard for Nick? It was something warm, a heat inside her that didn't felt exactly like lust, but it was fueled by it. Maybe it was just how they matched or her hopes of that relationship lasting more than just one night, just one fortunate encounter. For that, she had to be careful, even if it was an uphill struggle. Amanda's entrance gave view to a sizeable room, partly a small practical kitchen that soon gave way to an open living room, luminous as it hogged many of the building's front windows. It was mostly tidy, although it soon showed that Amanda's plans didn't include bringing anyone to her home that night, so Nick could consider himself lucky. A couple of dirty dishes piled on the sink, and even if the living room itself wasn't very messy, there was a corner that was pure chaos. Ah... sorry... Amanda excused herself, realizing now that she didn't think of that. In a corner there was a proof of her greatest hobby beyond literature. Over a few newspaper pages on the floor lied a half reconstructed old chair that seemed to be midway restoration, still lacking a paint job and upholstering the seat. I'm a bit handy, so I like making and restoring things, specially old furniture she confessed, opening her world a bit to Nick. Most of what you see has gone through my hands one way or another she commented, unable to restrain herself and sounding proud, as her living room was even older looking that the building itself. Sure, modern commodities plagued the place, including a sizeable flat television, but everything was hidden or enhanced to make it blend with a room that otherwise could look as a strange mix and match from past ages. From that main space, closed doors at both sides guarded the rest of the house, hidden for the time being. Amanda held herself back, enjoying to watch Nick look around at her house, but there was bound to be a moment when she couldn't help herself no more. It took me months to work on this couch Amanda explained, still dragging Nick around by his hand, giving him the tour of the place as they were close to the big furniture that ruled the living room. It was a couch that could comfortably hold about five people, an island of relaxation that was home to more than half a dozen cushions, unequally spread over it's surface. It's so soft, here- she said, gently pushing him down. As soon as Nick was sitting down facing her, Amanda straddled his lap, leaning forward managing to avoid clashing with his nose or glasses as she planted those hungry plump lips on his. Her assault was tender yet had an underlining of restrained passion, as bottled up feelings and fantasies pushed her to do more, to go further. Amanda's flowery dress rode a bit up her milky thighs given her posture, her generous breasts pressed against his chest as she chased Nick's tongue into his mouth with her own. A sloppy french kiss wasn't into her plans a few seconds ago, but plans didn't amount to much when she wanted to taste him at all costs. Intense and wet, yet somewhat brief, Amanda managed to lean back off him, breaking the passionate assault. Did you like it as much as I did? she asked, softly panting, face flushed, looking at him to gauge his reaction, judging how far should she go, how much should she do to him.