Thread: Inside Power Exchange [GypsyRose & Dane Stalling]

Looks like you're shootin' blanks, Regan returned dryly, a smile twitching at her lips. Her first inclination was to think the display of toys rather ridiculous, but given that she didn't care for biting the hand that fed her -- a hard bite, anyway -- she re-focused and tried to come at things from a more balanced perspective. Why should any of it be ridiculous? People liked what they liked, and why shouldn't they. If using a camouflage dildo lent some fun and excitement, who was she to poo-poo the idea. A weekend playing drill sergeant and recruit, camping perhaps, costumes and toys ... she wasn't even into all that army stuff, but it sounded kinda fun in her thoughts. And if not camouflage ... glitter, glow in the dark, goth, punk, or, hell, gold and platinum plated for the sheik and his harem. Regan found that she liked Matt's stare, and it didn't matter if he was looking at her eyes or letting his gaze wander southward. She'd taken a few trips down below the equator herself when his attention was otherwise engaged, and liked what she saw of both hemispheres, and that little flash of him getting into character, posing, lingered there in the edges of her mind like a craving for chocolate when she was trying to lose another five pounds to better her chances at a role. His compliment added an extra teasing glow to her smile, and she cocked her head and looked from him down to her sweater-covered chest, fighting the urge to draw the sweater tighter. He seemed quite good at drawing out her playful impulses, which spoke well for a natural chemistry for their shots. Thank god for that, even if it lessened the acting skills required. Having her ass paddled for the camera by some jackass that she'd sooner slug than fuck likely made for long days. Your willingness is noted, as is the compliment, though you're basing that opinion on incomplete information. It was as bold a come-on as she'd ever delivered on such short notice, but once she'd said it, there was no horrified 'WTF did I just say?' moment. It was subtle enough, but it was certainly enough of an expression of interest that he could pick up on it or not, as he chose. Not the vibrating glove? ... cock ring? ... harness? ... mask? ... whatever the hell that is? Regan ran her fingers over a couple of the packages, feeling an odd sort of tingle that probably had more to do with her attraction to Matt than any draw toward the items themselves. As he wiggled his fingers, her eyes did sweep southward again, finding it all too easy, and exciting, to imagine those fingers in action, perhaps in conjunction with her own. I'll admit to giving something like that a try when I was younger, but not with a partner, though. One of my friends had one of those ... sex toy parties ... about a year ago, though. It was silly and fun ... her cousin was selling these sex toys, some sort of Amway-kinda thing ... where they had naughty party favors and a penis shaped cake and 'aphrodisiac punch' and we played silly games. I'll admit to having bought a couple of things - the things you do for friends. Regan picked up a large, pink, double ended dildo and gave a wry grin. Not this. But we played this game at the party where we had to pass this thing around from person to person, between our legs, without using our hands. Turned out that my friend's mom was an expert at it ... It was hilarious, though that might have had more to do with the punch -- it was spiked. She grinned at the memory, accompanied by a shake of her head as she put the dual cock in its plastic packaging back down and picked up a silver bullet-shaped vibrator. This I could afford ... along with a sampler pack of massage oils. The oils are gone, but this ... this I haven't burnt out ... yet . She didn't quite answer his next question, though she did wonder what he'd do if she took his fingers in her own and replied with a suggestive look of her own. Perhaps it was the subject matter of the job, rubbing off, though the feeling like she needed a cold shower would probably go away once it became more work. Regan refused the offer of coffee. It was late enough in the day that her coffee snobbishness held greater sway than the need for caffeine. She got a diet Dew from the vending machine and nursed its cool, sweaty surface, holding the bottle to her neck for a bit of its coolness before twisting the cap and taking a drink as Joanie filled them in on the schedule. Eight o'clock wasn't all that early for her, but she supposed that Carole was high up enough in the food chain that she could better choose her own hours. Still, she'd be there, probably even early as the excitement of starting a shoot -- even a mediocre one -- was always enough to have her eyes wide open well before they had to be. When Carole mentioned her offhanded invitation, she glanced over at her co-star. Cast get-togethers were always interesting, and she could hardly afford to turn down a chance to network, but it would be a lot more fun if Matt were going as well. The thought of Carole in full dominatrix gear and riding crop was something of a scary one, and though she was really quite curious, perhaps putting that off until she had a day of shooting under her belt might be a good idea. There was jumping off into the deep end, and then there was jumping OFF the deep end. With a last 'ta-ta', they were left at the table alone, Regan took another long drink and gave Matt a sidelong look. Well, that prohibition leaves out about half the props, then, don't you think? Just as well. Are you thinking of going to Spike's? She didn't even try to hide her interest in his answer. She was far too busy weighing the good of 'networking' against what might happen if she suggested her place and borrowing a couple of the props to 'try out'. Not seriously, of course ... not too seriously, anyway.