Neighborly Lovin (Marvin & Bubble)

[Velvet-Tied-Cherub]

Luna Macintosh heaved a heavy sigh that rippled over the snowy dunes of her chest, the bright cyan tank top granting her all the favors in regards to showing off her immense curves, especially above the waist, her ravine of cleavages several inches long. Her unpainted long nailed dainty hand reached up beneath her side-swept ruby bangs, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow as she looked down a the box, the -last- one she needed to unpack.

Most of her clothes, which was why she went with the simple shirt and black leggings that held her dense hips currently, slightly modest but pert behind (compared to her chest at least) and down to her supple legs, currently just in some ankle socks that were blue with fishes on them.

Her pastel green eyes that sat behind her small round glasses took a glance upon her new room...well, -old- room, the walls still painted her favorite blue, her current shirt almost matching them, and little paper-machete jellyfish lantern of different colors still strung all about and hanging, giving the space an oceanic feel.

The nostalgia alone was quite nice.

Sure it was...difficult to ignore the pangs of embarrassment...moving back in with dear old dad, the ink on the divorce papers barely dried...but it wasn't as though she were financially destitute, she would have made enough to afford a nice two bedroom apartment all on her own if she wanted, however, the idea of living alone...it wasn't something she was especially enthused by, and this would be good for her father. Ever since mom passed, sure he'd been keeping busy..but frankly, almost too busy. The man was in his 60's and decided to keep working! And he kept starting all these projects for the house...and then starting on a -new- project before the old one was finished, and he was achy more often and -pretending- to be ok when everyone knew he wasn't a young buck anymore, and just...

Who knows what could happen if he went too overboard one day and no one was around, it had been a worry for her since he became a widower.

Luna swallowed, having successfully mentally consoled herself that yes, again, she -had- made the right decision, and she took down her long river of scarlet hair from its clip, the wavy tresses falling down to the small of her back.

With a hum she turned on her heels and figured now was as good a time as any to get a snack, to fuel her creativity, and perhaps get some writing done.

She began to descend the stairs from the second floor house, each step causing the monumental orbs on her chest to give a small ripple, like just beneath that white satin surface was water, both bundles doing soft bounces in tandem to match the tune of her gait, the voluptuous four-eyed beauty scarcely being able to make any move without the rebound reaching her plentiful chest in at least a moderate springy motion.
Lets see, she could work more on her story 'Tooth and Rose', the epic series about cannibalistic tooth fires in a war against Flower Elves who specifically worshiped the rose above all else...

Her pale pink lips stretched into a mischievous little smirk, thinking about how her dad was off at work, and she began to ponder, ooooooor, she could write another chapter for A Beast Offered For A Beauty, her little spin on the classic beauty and the beast...but with far more suggestive situation. Sure it had been done over and over by many the erotic writer, taking that tale and adding some spice to it, however, there was a -reason- for that.

The plot was fuckin fun to make!

It was just so easy to get steamy with it too~

Being able to indulge in all the kinky acts she never really got to experience in her own life...especially with the extremely vanilla, and almost submissive himself, Asher Loied...her ex-husband.

Though, as she came upon the last three steps before the ground floor, her nose creased as she was unfortunate enough to briefly think of that blonde haired source-of-her-heart-break, her ears caught sound of a slow creeeeak of that janky front door of theres.

It was only 2pm, surely her dad wasn't home yet?

Though, maybe he came back for lunch? That was a possibility.

The woman shaped like the most classic form of an hourglass lifted her head and looked forward to the front door, mouth open about to greet her parent but the words stopping short as her verdant gleam took in a different figure and her startled heart leapt up into her throat.

 

[Marvin]

Desmond could hardly pay attention to the road, his mind fumbling over the things his financial advisor had talked about. It was like listening to another language. All he understood was that the man was going to make his money turn into more money. Something about passive income? Cryptocurrencies? Bull market? He had just scratched his head and nodded along.

As long as my money is going up, that's good.

Even better too, if he bothered paying attention to the road. Desmond had a bad habit of letting his mind wander off in places it shouldn't, like driving his truck. Even if he was off the main roads, navigating the streets of his neighborhood with only muscle memory wasn't exactly ideal. Nor was turning into his driveway too early, feeling the rocky bump of the right side of his vehicle jumping up onto the curb.

"Oh, shit!" He exclaimed, gripping onto the wheel. He endured another bump as his back right wheel climbed onto the curb as well. He pulled far into the driveway and parked the car right outside his garage door. Starting to look around, Desmond was checking his surroundings to see if anyone had seen the inconsequential incident.

In the clear, he thought to himself.

Then he peered over to where he placed the box of small cakes. Desmond had stopped by a local bakery on the way home. It was sort of weekly ritual at this point. He liked to share them with his friend as they chatted about life. He didn't dare take a peek. He knew John wasn't the type of man to care about the appearance of something when it worked, in this case, tasted, perfectly well. But he also knew that the older man would give him plenty of shit for managing to spill the cakes, and by hitting the curb no less. He paused for a moment, then grabbed the box handle with a grin. Just the thought of it made him feel a little better, knowing the old man would get a kick out of the situation.

Desmond befriended John Macintosh a few years back. Freshly retired from his short, but electric stint in the NFL, he moved into one of those classic, middle class suburbs. John was the first person to welcome the dark skinned man into the neighborhood with open arms. Desmond didn't exactly have what many living here considered the right complexion. But John hadn't cared about that. And the men bonded over life's struggles. The career Desmond had worked his whole life towards was taken away by injuries, and the love of John's life had passed away a year ago, and the man was still grieving at the time. Despite the large age difference between them, they bonded the way a father and a son might. Especially since John never had a son, though he did have a daughter he loved to brag to Desmond about. Desmond liked being around John. He admired the man's attitude towards his family, his devotion to his late wife and to his daughter, even if he only ever showed it to anyone but his own daughter. He wanted to be a husband, and a father like that to someone someday.

To Desmond, that was the dream. A good home in a good neighborhood in a good family. Hearing how some of his teammates throughout college and the pros grew up in similar situations and the impact it had on them, and comparing it to the environment he was raised in, he wanted it for his own kids. Just, he'd yet to have kids. Yet to even find a steady girlfriend. There had been plenty of girls in high school, college, and in the pros, but none of them stuck around for long. At least he knew why since they all spelled it out for him, but he couldn't really do much to resolve that very glaring, hard to miss issue. He just hoped one day he'd find a woman that didn't mind it, or maybe even liked it. The way his teammates and other men liked to brag, there had to be some women like that out there.

Once Desmond climbed out of his truck and locked it, he made his way to the house right next to his. John's house. He walked over the grass, even though John had reminded him time and time again not to do that. It was easy to forget. It was just grass. Desmond stood on the porch, wondering if John was even home. John had started working again and at this time of the day Desmond wasn't sure if the old man would be home. Still, it'd be a waste to have all these cakes for himself. The chocolate ones especially were John's favorites. The hard man had a hidden sweet tooth. He decided he could at least stop in and put them in the fridge as a surprise. Maybe even work on that creaky old door that John refused to get looked at. It couldn't have been that difficult, could it?

Pushing the door open, Desmond ducked down and turned his body to the side as he slide through the doorway. His curly, kinky black hair, though cut close to a crop, brushed against the upper edge. Most doorways were built for men like him. Desmond was huge. His massive body bounded with thick, solid muscle. Wide, broad shoulders, a pronounced, defined chest, a strong, muscular subtle stomach that once housed an impressive set of abs. He made the white, big and tall shirt he wore look small, although there was still plenty of space at his waist. His legs were built too, but he wore pants that had a bit more room whenever he went out in public, today's pair being a pair of worn out jeans, loose fitting at the thighs. Otherwise it'd be indecent. He remembered being lectured about it before, about needing to be more modest and not so... obscenely arrogant? Whatever that meant. More than that, Desmond was tall. A foot taller than most people. On his already big frame, the muscles on his body, with his proportions, looked huge. He was maybe even bigger than his playing days, though not enough for a casual look to register it. He didn't condition as much, but he still worked out all the same, and now he ate what he wanted too. And he did like to eat.

"John!" Desmond called out, letting his deep, booming voice bellow in the house. He was looking around, as if that would help him hear a response. He didn't hear one. But he did hear a noise. A feminine sort of squeak. He looked around, not seeing anyone, then realized he was looking at his eye level. He peered down, catching the sight of her.

Desmond Bowen had heard of love at first sight before, but he had never experienced it. Today, he had. And suddenly all the romantic movies he'd been forced to watch with his exes made perfect sense, like he had seen the truth of it all. This must've been what religious folks felt when praying at church. He was laying eyes on his own goddess, right in the flesh. He was smitten. And he felt, knew, that he had to have this woman. That he wanted to make her his. Before he realized it, Desmond was walking up to her, body moving before his mind could think. His brain fumbled around with the words in his mouth for a moment, wondering what he should say to someone this beautiful. He couldn't think of anything. Although it wasn't as if this was a new phenomenon for him. He decided just to say what he was here for. To keep it simple. He was best at simple.

"Hi. I brought these for John. This is his house. How do you know him?" His voice was deep, but he spoke with a friendly innotation. His smile was big and bright. He was blatantly staring at everything he could get his big brown eyes on. She just had so much going on. Then the words just tumbled loose out of his mouth like he had finally sunken into a deep, mesmerized trance. "You're so gorgeous..."

 

[Velvet-Tied-Cherub]

Luna had gone as still as a temple statue when the figure that squeezed through the door was most certainly -not- her father.

First of all, her father was surprisingly tall for his age, 6'1 to be specific, but -this- dude was a human mountain condensed into a little home, also their skin tones were -decidedly- different (her dad may have tried tanning as he'd been wanting a more youthful look, just to switch things up, but, the man was orange, not a natural dark sun kissed as this giant.)

There was a spoonful of shock followed by a brief enchantment, her lush eyeline met dark rings and it was just this sort of...slowing down of time as he got closer, his expression transfixed and chiseled and she sort of just stared at him as he got in close, looking down at her, his shadow cast on her form like he were a tree and she needed shade.

Her ivory cheeks were touched with roses as he spoke, a little skip of her heart as he ended on an earnest and sudden compliment. He looked alike what she fantasized quite a few of her 'leading men' to in her erotic stories. Carven from the gods themselves to be a profound champion destined for great things.

Luna felt her vocal cords strum of their own accord, a little sing-song hum to her voice as her heart had taken control of her words, well her heart and...another part of her, "Th-Thank you."

She wasn't sure what smacked her ass out of her hypnotizing of this beefcake, perhaps it was just cold heard reality saying, 'Just because you're an adult doesn't mean -stranger danger- isn't a thing!' He was a huge man in her dad's house afterall, while her dad wasn't home.

She twisted on her heels with the speed of a ballerina, but not quite with the grace, her plentiful chest throwing off some of her equilibrium, the globes having always messed up her sense of balance since she hit puberty and her never truly being able to stop the pitfalls of top-heaviness when moving fast, and she went up several steps, even from behind, the far edge curves of her chest could be spotted jostling about in her shirt, before twisting back around, having gone up enough to get some distance and be eye level with him.

She was comforted by the fact he had not chased her or made any aggressive movements, so with that she placed her hands together palms first in front of her lips, expression contemplative and a bit anxiously comedic in the perplexidness, and her forearms were up against the sides of her bust, pushing that chasm line to jut out even more over her shirt, though even with so much out, looking like the top of a big white heart, there still was no fear of the pointed peeks springing out due to the sheer volume of roundness -still- beneath the cyan fabric.
Luna kept her palms together and then pointed towards him with a brow cocked, "I know him because he's my father, uuuuh, who are -you-?? And how did you get in here? I'm sure the door was locked."

She smiled a bit awkwardly, attempting to be friendly while also being skeptical, her sensibilities ping ponging between wanting to ogle the guy and being a little panicked that the two were alone in the house and he hadn't so much as said his name yet.

 

[Marvin]

Mesmerizing. Was this what it was like to be under hypnosis? His eyes followed her fluid, lively bust as it bounced to momentum of her movements. He hadn't even noticed she was backing up away from him until they were separated by a few feet and a portion of stairs. And with the staircase adding to her height, Desmond could see face level with his. It wasn't just the tremendous curves that captivated him, she was pretty too. Enchanting green eyes, lovely pink lips, and then all of that striking, flowing red hair. He was hardly paying attention to what she was actually doing, so enamored by her appearance, and when she put her hands together and pointed at him, he wasn't even phased by the eccentric behavior. The words, however, did do some good in knocking him back to reality, even if it was a slow realization.

John is her father? That's his daughter?

Desmond's eyes went wide. And now that he was aware, he could see the resemblance. Not between her and her father, but between the woman standing before him and the little lady in the pictures strewn about the house. Desmond had seen John's daughter before in picture frames. Though the oldest photo they had of her was when the girl was in college, and the shots always seemed to be of shoulders and up. He couldn't believe that this was John's little girl. Even felt guilty because of the way he was thinking of her. But he couldn't help himself, not in front of a beautiful figure like that. "Wow..." He muttered, still a bit dumbfounded.

When Desmond managed to pull his senses back together, he stepped away on his own accord, following her lead in putting distance between them. But backing up without looking where he was going led the big man to bump his head on the wall behind him. "Ow," he said the word loud enough only for his ears. He wanted to look good in front of John's daughter. He was rubbing the back of his head when he started to answer her questions.

"I'm Desmond. John's friend. I come by and help out a lot." Desmond flashed a key on his keyring. It included his car keys and his own housekeys, alongside John's duplicate key. "Awhile back he gave me a key. I came over to bring him some sweets. His favorite," he added, as if that would help explain the situation. He held up the cakebox again.

Desmond found himself talking some more, beginning to ask a question of his own. "Are you Luna?" The name was easily to remember. He was surprised a man like John would name his daughter Luna, but every man had their quirks. Or maybe it was his late wife's idea. Desmond never got around to asking that. "John's told me about you before! It's nice to meet you!"

It suddenly dawned on him why she had scurried up the stairs, and why she was keeping her distance from him. He was a big, visibly strong man, a complete and total stranger in a house that as far as she was concerned, he shouldn't have been in. Plus, it was the simple fact that he was a man. And she was a woman. They were alone in the house, in the same room. Desmond gave a sheepish smile, waving apologetically as he realized the implications of the current situation. He excused himself, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, and headed for the kitchen. There were cakes to deliver. "I'm gonna drop these in the fridge and go! Tell your pops I said hi!"

Things like this happened often. Desmond almost reaching the same conclusions most normal people would if they were thrown into the same situations as him. But it was never quite right. The issue wasn't him being in the same room with her, it was him being in the house at all. The two had never met before, it was only natural she be weary. And if he was concerned and wanted to relieve her of her sudden tension and stress, he should've just left the house entirely, not beelined it for the kitchen first. But this sort of thing would have to be explained directly to get it through his thick skull.

He opened the door to the fridge and made some space for the box of sweets. Then another thought came to his mind as he. He really didn't want to just up leave. He wanted to get to know her at least a little more. "Do you want some cake?" He called out. "I've got strawberry and vanilla too; not just chocolate! I'll leave it out before I go."

 

[Velvet-Tied-Cherub]

The tension seemed to dissipate from her shoulders as he took a step back, mirroring her and therefore showing consideration for her emotional state, though she winced in sympathy as he clearly hit his head, but as This 'Desmond' seemed to only mouth the pain, she bit down on her bubblegum tongue to stifle her giggle and also feign the illusion she hadn't noticed, arms falling along her winding sides and with each passing comment, though it seemed a bit out of order and jumbled, the pieces of this puzzle were granted to her.

The smile over the claret head's face was mellowed, feeling he was likely being truthful because, well, how else would he know her name? slipping into a more friendly and less panicked state, "Oh...Oh yea, I'm Luna. Hello. Nice to meet you too."

As his paw of a hand waved shyly, the once intimidating presentation was quickly turning into a show of friendly muscle and a good handful of guilt had been chunked onto her heart, her hands semi rising, words like 'wait' or 'it's ok' at the edge of her lips but not quite sure if that was really 'the right fit' for this situation, however, it seemed maybe he was having similar musings because though he looked like he suddenly felt unwelcome, he also went to the kitchen instead of back out the door.

Quickly, she scuttled back down the stairs, bounce bounce, going her figure, just a few feet behind him as she was considering maybe an apology or something?

Her head popped past the doorway like it was floating for a second when she heard his voice offer some of the baked goods, and there was this sense of urgency and she blurted out, "You don't have to go."

Her face bloomed with blush as she wondered how needy that sounded? Feeling a touch of personal desire with him staying mixed in with the remorse for responding in a fearful way, stepping into the kitchen, her hand reaching back to rub at her head, messing with the long ruby locks, owl eyes cast to the side as she quickly did her best to explain, "I mean, I just, was a bit startled, didn't know who you were, but know that I know you and my dad are friends I mean, I don't wanna chase one of his buddies outta the house. I just moved back in and I'm gonna make the place all inhospitable for his neighbors? Heh, talk about ungrateful etiquette am I right?" The kiss of pink to her profile seemed to be slowly reaching down her neck, her fingers lacing one over the other, perched along the ravine of her breasts, though there was still plenty a satin soft line to see passed that, as she also realized, what if what he -meant- to do was just drop off a pastry and leave? Was she now guilting him into remaining longer than necessary?

Her hands turned his way again, each by it's respective shoulder and all fingers pointed at him, really seeming to be attempting to take his mindset into consideration, being good at reading people, mostly in the instance of needing to understand people in order to create realistic characters on page, though, that over analyzing sometimes led to over-thinking it, "Er, but you don't -have- to stay either of course, I mean you were probably gonna head out and...I-"

I don't know what I'm saying.

Luna put her hands to her own blazing cheeks as though trying to snuff out the fire, looking at this hunk seeming to be making her usual emotionally intelligent brain loose focus as she kept finding her eyeline shift towards big shoulders or massive biceps.

When even was the last time she was in the same room as someone she found so attractive?

As attractive as -this-? Possibly never.

Didn't help that she was new to the feeling of single hood what with a decade long marriage recently down the drain.

She began to side step towards the fridge, pointing to it with both index fingers, trying to just get a handle on things, "Ya know, some cake would be nice, actually," She turned so that for a few seconds her face could be hidden behind her wine curtain of hair, mouth in a straight line and eyes wide as though she was telling herself, 'could ya get it together maybe?' and she bent over to take a hold of the paper box and take a peek.

As she bent forward, the peach of her backside was more pronounced, a humble but supple curvature, sloping into that narrow waist, and her breasts hung against her shirt, the plush cushion circles made slightly oval and pushing against the elasticity of her shirt collar, in a vaguely suggestive position, though not one she seemed to purposefully be doing, and then she took a peek into the box.

"Oh...ummm," Her brows furrowed, for a second ignoring her own infatuated heart as she took in the sight, and then her four-eyed optics were glancing up his way quizzically, trying to be understanding but with a little smirk at the silly discovery, "whaaaat happened to it? Is it supposed to look like this?" Referring to his earlier speed bump with this particular cargo, showing the chaos of there pastry crash.

 

[Marvin]

Desmond was all smiles when he heard her invitation to stay. The big, burly man hardly even registered a thing she said as she approached him. He was so captivated by her beauty that he simply forgot to listen. Her words were like a blur, everything around him like a camera out of focus except for the shape of the woman in his sights.

It was even worse when she stepped up next to him. He might as well have been blind to only her. She smelled sweet like honey. Her voice was like silk even as she questioned him about the catastrophe inside the box. And he could hardly pry his eyes away from those suspended, hanging breasts. With her body bent over, it only accentuated the shape, and he starting to perk up a natural, but unwelcome response. When he could pull his eyes away, they landed on her peach shaped rear, those abundant hips. He was desperately flexing the muscles in his leg and his core, trying to divert the blood some place else. Luckily, in the bulky pair of jeans he was wearing, it'd take some time to show up, especially if he just stood still.

Somehow, he managed to meet her eyes, although staring at that pretty gaze didn't help much with his predicament. He leaned in, bending at the hips. That was a great way to hide the growing chub between his legs. His face right next to hers, lips hovering close to her ear. He didn't quite realize just how intimate he was acting, he just wanted to make sure she was the only one who heard it, as if there were someone else nearby that could pick up on the conversation and make fun of him. "When I was pulling into my driveway, I kind of drove up the curb. The box fell over."

Then just like that, his lips pulled away, indicating that was all he wanted to say. He poked a large finger into the box, scooping up a strawberry dab of the ruined cakes, toppled over one another and wildly spread about the box. He popped the morsel into his mouth. "Still really good," he said while chewing. Then Desmond dipped his finger in again, collecting a piece of the chocolate. Seeing as she was John's daughter, it must've been her favorite too. He held it up to her, expecting her to do what he just did. "See for yourself."

Crushes had a strange way of showing themselves in Desmond. Most people ended up embarrassed, shy and guarded with their affection, naturally afraid and cautious of rejection. It wasn't as if Desmond didn't think rejection was possible, he'd been through enough break ups and unexpected one night stands to know better. But even so he didn't really think about rejection. It wasn't on his mind at all. He was too helplessly in love. And he only wanted to return that heartwarming, exuberating sensation to the one he adored. He was a big man, with big heaps of love and affection to give out. At times, he was over eager in showing it. Just like now, expecting her to gladly take the touch of cake on his waiting finger into her mouth. They hardly even knew each other. None of that mattered to Desmond.

But she did matter to him. The gears in his head were turning, though in the completely wrong direction, and the man caught himself acting incredibly inconsiderate in that moment. He ate it the offer of cake himself. Then he was brushing his finger off on his jeans before he reached up to the kitchen cabinets above the countertop to their left. He pulled out plates, one for each of them, and set them down on the table. Then he pulled at the drawer directly beneath the cabinet, below the countertop. He placed a fork on each plate before pushing it close.

Desmond knew that not everyone liked to eat with their hands like he did. In fact, it was supposedly kind of uncommon. Whenever he ate lunch with his teammates in the past, they'd laugh whenever he grabbed a fistful of dry greens and shove them into his mouth. He washed his hands regularly, and the food wasn't sticky or wet, or in a shared bowl, and it wasn't like he was putting spit covered fingers back in for another handful, so what was wrong with it? He never figured it out, but he at least recognized that it was a habit specific to him. "Sorry. You'd probably want to eat with a plate, right?"

He took the open box out of the fridge and placed it in between the plates. Then he shut the fridge with a soft, but firm push. "I like the strawberry the most, but I can share if you want some." Desmond couldn't wipe the grin off his face even if he tried. He was just so happy to be talking with her. It seemed engaging in an actual conversation was the trick to snapping out of his blatant gawking over her body and just enough to calm down his overexcited body.

 

[Velvet-Tied-Cherub]

Luna was painfully aware of him as Desmond leaned in, and for a split second her apparently hormone driven mind thought he was going in for a kiss, as ridiculous as that would be, but thank god she didn't listen to that silly wishful thinking and simply turned her head so he could tell this apparent important secret directly to her ear, the light mist of his warm breath sending a shiver down her spine.

A girlish chuckle left her pale throat as he answered, finding his actions boyishly charming, and all the more so considering they contrasted so drastically with his powerful frame, the sort of light hearted way not something she, any probably most, expected from such a man.

"Oooh, I see, well, I won't tell anyone." She inserted, humoring him before his assertion about the flavor still being passable, and her gawk went a bit slack as he offered a cream filled finger to her.
She swallowed, the idea of slipping his thick digit into her mouth decidedly perverted even though presently he seemed to not be considering is as such, a more wholesome consideration, and although she inherited her need to wear glasses from her father, resembling him slightly more than her mother (well, plus adding on all the femininity twice over..so mostly just in the brow, nose, and need for spectacles) what she didn't relate to was having a sweet tooth like him, she was a bit of a meat eater though, always craving savory things, but not much for pastries, especially when it came to chocolate. It really wasn't one of her favorites, but on the end of that brawny digit, it looked absolutely scrumptious.

Though she were not so bold as to lean forward and lick, but with a flash of bubblegum over her upper lip, her mind certainly was debating being a little bold, wanting to taste.

God, she was being such a horn dog.

Suppose that's what can happen after heart break, a need to fill that hole with something more carnal to distract from the loneliness....plus she had always just secretly been a woman of high libido.

Just as she thought she might lose her resolve and do something so risky as suck Desmond's finger, knowing it would only invoke thoughts of...thoughts of her lips on...other things...

-Don't even -think- about looking at his crotch.-

The sun-blessed man seemed to pull into reality a bit quicker, and soon he set up a little area at the kitchen table, the bountiful breasted one glancing up at the ceiling as if it was oh-so-interesting and trying to tell the blossom in the garden of her pelvis to quiet down, to -stop- trying to bloom, but the flower bud was ignoring her, engorging itself and selfishly wanting attention.

"P-Plates are favorable, yea, sure." But I rather have preferred your finger, she thought with a gulp before going over and peering into the box, looking at the flavors and pulling out a small section of cream, "I like vanilla actually," For another second, she sort of forgot herself, because, well, vanilla food was the only 'vanilla' things she liked, her ex's vanilla inclination being another source for their split, and though it were only things she'd say with friends, she 'corrected' herself...very much without thinking, "Well, I like vanilla -desserts- at least."

Just as she was bringing the fork with a morsel up to her open mouth her eyes shined with recognition, pausing like a sculpture, realizing what she just implied...a secret she'd probably told all of 4 people in her whole life, and she just casually alluded to it over cake.

The sensually shaped woman stuffed the bite in, chewing with mouth closed but a bit loudly, as though somehow the show would...distract? from what she just said? and after she swallowed, looking down at her plate she mumbled, "Oh, you're right, umm, pretty good." Segway, there's gotta be a Segway. Luna scratched the side of her nose with her left index, still staring at the food as opposed to the Herculean one that just had a vice grip on her 'other' appetite, worried what else she might say, or fuck, -do- if she kept looking at him, maybe it was his friendly nature that made her open up? Feeling so welcomed by the smile? Or...something like that? "So, my pop's behaving himself? I noticed a lot of his unfinished projects have been completed, but with him always starting something new and being dead set on not retiring yet, I didn't think he'd have the time to be able to finish it all on his own...so has it been thanks to you?

 

[Marvin]

Desmond looked on with a charmed expression. She really did like vanilla desserts. He briefly considered what else could have been vanilla and not considered a dessert, but he pushed the thought aside, deciding to ask her later. He liked the way she ate, interpreting her loud chewing as her earnestly enjoying some good food. He was the same. He liked a woman that could eat well. It always felt awkward to have a date pick at her meal when he was busy scarfing down the third or fourth plate. He took his fork and sliced a cut of the fallen strawberry cake. Then he scooped it into his mouth.

"Yeah, really good!" The words came out muffled in between his chewing.

When Luna brought up the topic of the little DIY projects they'd been doing around the house, Desmond seemed to perk up even more, if possible. He saw it as a grand chance to show off. His posture changed slightly, standing tall and fully erect. His shoulders drew back as he placed his hands on the countertop behind him, leaning back, supporting himself with those thick, muscular arms. "That's right! I come by and sometimes he's working on things. He's old, so even if he tells me no, I help him out anyways."

Desmond picked up the other half of the cake from the awkward angle he was standing in with his bare hand and plopped it into his mouth. "He's a real smart guy. Teaches me a lot of handy stuff that I never learned growing up." Again, the words came out muffled, but still comprehensible. "But sometimes you just need some strength." Desmond started slapping his muscles, flexing his arms, showing off his huge biceps and triceps as he flashed her a wide grin.

"You know, I'm real glad I became friends with your dad. Cause now I have an excuse whenever I feel like coming and seeing you. But, I don't know. I don't want to sneak around like that." He gulped down the rest of his cake. His eyes were steady on hers, and without even the slightest of hesitation, he asked, "Can I take you on a date? I really, really like you. I think after you'll end up liking me too."

 

[Velvet-Tied-Cherub]

She managed to glance up over the rim of her glasses as he spoke, and with the look on his face, an observation came to mind.

There were certain memes, endearing meme's of course, like...the image of a delighted dog with an open mouth smiling and panting with someone cooing, 'aw...there's not a thought behind those eyes.' which she wouldn't nearly go that far in regard towards him, but rather it was just the genre of those jokes that came to mind, beginning to take note of his mannerisms, and with her hiccup thankfully passed over, him taking a turn to just chat for awhile, her bout of apprehension sinking and for a moment she thought maybe he was just humoring her at not noticing her slip up, but the way he was a bit sloppy with how he ate, and then in the calm taking an extra second to remember his earlier mannerisms too, a certain archetype of a person was starting to unravel in her mind

Though just as she was coming from a more analytical place, maybe about to get back to her more observant, and perhaps sometimes a bit withdrawn so as to be composed, presence, he pulled up his arm and flexed, noticing the curvature of the density of his limbs and another flutter rebounding within her ribs.

"I can imagine that." She interjected softly about 'sometimes needing strength' a bit of a dreamy look on her strawberry and cream face as she was starting to imagine...other ways to utilize his strength.

Then his bluntness just came out full speed and as her face fell, flabbergasted, and her head turned left, voluminous chest doing a gelatinous wobble that direction, then did the same to the right, generous orbs again with a faint bounce, as if her bosom was also looking around, as though she thought he was maybe talking to someone else, even though she knew very well they were alone.

Two slow blinks came to her lids and she opened her mouth, gaping like a fish for a second, marveling at his straight forwardness, just...having a feeling and saying it out loud. It being on thought of response to herself.

She was a little envious.

The buxom maroon tressed lass felt another bout of shyness, wondering if she should warn him about being a divorcee, knowing the odd hang ups people could have, and if it was alright to get back into the dating game so soon, it'd been 3 months since she ended a 10 year relationship...but as she looked into brown orbs, that smile just so genuine and like a god damn puppy on a jacked hunk, what the fuck sort of sense did it make to reject him?

It's not like she wasn't touched by the affection, and she'd never been asked out with such confidence, so with another little rub to her cheek she smiled, "You know what...yea, yes, I would love to go on a date with you," Her right arm hooked under her chest so that her hand could loop around her left elbow, her forearm pushing up beneath her chest, the pillow hills making it disappear beneath, shirt again stretching and straining to keep the blessedly spherical rack caged, "Though, don't think we'll need to wait till the end of the date for me to start liking you...or even the beginning of the date." She hugged herself a bit more, feeling that girlish 'I have a crush' emotions, the sides of her thin biceps squishing into the edge of her chest as well, it being hard to do much of anything without the vanilla cakes being jostled, "What would you wanna do though? And when?"

 

[Marvin]

Desmond was good at reading lips. That had been always been something he naturally excelled at. He couldn't take his eyes off of hers as he anticipated her answer. And then he read the words from her open and parting lips before he heard it. It was on the first syllable of the word 'yes' where his happiness threatened to burst out of him. He wanted to hug her, to bury her in his chest, to lift her up and spin her around and around. He felt his arms twitch with the anticipation of doing so even as he fought to bury down the sensations. He wanted to do a lot of things, but they weren't always appropriate. Desmond had been told before, not just by women he pursued, but by his close friends that he came on too strong, too aggressive, and that people took those kinds of things the wrong way. They'd told him that the big, physical displays of affection, were better off for the bigger, more important moments of a relationship.

The things they had told him held truth. He had much more success in his dating life ever since he started reining in his impulses. Just, he'd never gotten far enough for the big moments to come. It was hard, mastering himself without any gratification in the end. He was still missing something. He could get dates easy. And follow up dates were no problem either, but it was always after the first intimate night, regardless of how early or late, where things often stopped dead in their tracks. That, his peers and the women he dated, had little advice about. It wasn't a problem a lot of men had. And it was a problem a lot of men envied. But it wasn't an issue he had to face right now. For now he decided he would just focus on Luna.

He suppressed the urge to wrap his arms around her, and with a woman like Luna, the urge was immense, bigger than he had ever felt. She looked so soft, so fine. And the way her arm pinned her huge breasts to her other arm. His earlier attempts to quell the stirring in his crotch were no good, blown away and utterly overwhelmed. He felt that long, long stiffening against his thigh, the slight jut forward that resulted in a thick bump above his knee. He wasn't quite erect just yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time.

Desmond settled for a more subtle embrace, also hoping it'd bring her attention anywhere else aside from the burgeoning shape between his legs. Huge hands reached out, grasping her left hand. One clasped over her actual hand, the other wrapped around her wrist. "What wouldn't I want to do with you?" He replied, his tone suggesting that her question was silly. And truthfully, there was so much he wanted to do that he wouldn't have been able to list them all.

"If you like me already, then I guess I can just focus on making it a good date," he said, beaming. "Tomorrow, if you're free? And I know I just said I don't wanna sneak around, but let me keep a secret just this once. Oh! And tell me what you like to eat."

 

[Velvet-Tied-Cherub]

Luna could feel her walls breaking down as the man was behaving with more and more zeal and jubilation, that earlier image of a big happy pup starting to tap-tap-tap at the back of her head, which helped to make her feel less intimidated by her infatuation with that image in her head, her smile was humoring and delighted as he reached forward, her little hand almost disappearing within his fingers, and she had a wide teeth showing grin for his first declaration, big on the grand words of emotion.

It was so charming in such a excitable way, infectious even.

The points of her fingers softly rubbed little circles into his palm, trying to, though a bit more subtly, return the shows of budding affection, looking down at their connected palms, the sun kissed skin over moon touched flesh, though, with her eyes now looking downward, she couldn't help but glance just past their hands, and she did what she had tried herself not too, and take a little look see towards his groin.

It was quick, but she was rather sure she saw the outline of a...of a huge...

Her pretty owl eyes -jumped- back up to bore into his, her heart jumping and the bud at the garden of her pelvis hoping in anticipation. She hadn't ogled so much to know for a fact that the outline she thought she saw was accurate, perhaps their being a misstep in her depth perception, grinning widely, partially to distract her mind which was more than delighted to get a bit pervy, not wanting to sully the absolutely darling way Desmond was acting and the pep in the air emanating from the source that was this grand hunk.

"Tomorrow would be great, and don't worry, my dad isn't -over- protective, but he's still the father of an only daughter so I probably wouldn't be in a rush to tell him until after a bit of time anyway," Her starlight shoulders shifted, and again, the jounce of her tits was like she had monumental satin covered jello filled orbs beneath her shirt, mentally trying to beat away her less than PG-13 thoughts away with a stick, "And, ummm, My favorite dinner is steak and broccoli, but I also really enjoy hard shell tacos too." She slowly pulled her hand away, fingers grazing his, beaming a bit herself, "I'm looking forward to it."

They bid goodbye for now, and she spent most of dinner thinking about him, having a brief conversation with her father, letting him know about the treats in the fridge and John beamed, saying, "Isn't he a stand up guy?" with Luna replying with an emphatic, "Yes, he very much seems so."

She spent a couple nights before bed writing a whole new plot for an erotic story, and, she may or may not, but defiantly was, inspired by a certain spunky beefy figure with the disposition of sunshine.

The next day, she didn't think to ask exactly what he had planned, so what she should wear alluded her, spending two full hours before the agreed upon time looking through her wardrobe for an 'all around' sort of outfit, but that still looked good.

She settled on a simple black dress with short sleeves and a low scoop collar, it was form fitting, but frankly all clothing on her voluptuous self was form fitting, the massive snow dunes before the inner slopes of her waist and then the highlands of her hips, a hillside covered in ebony fabric, and then some sensible ballerina flats just in the off chance they did anything slightly active.
Her hair was up in a cute bun, as though a velveteen bunny tail atop her head, and she even painted her nails black as well, thinking the dark color looked rather nice on her alabaster skin and next to her scarlet hair.
Her father was off to work again so as she headed to the front door she didn't have to worry about him asking where she was off too, a mini backpack in lo of a purse, blue with jellyfish on it, and she opened it up, excited for the day.

 

[Marvin]

Hands slightly red, tingling with the heat of a minor burn, Desmond dove back into the soapy sink littered with his pots and pans. They'd been scrubbed clean, without a hint of use left on aside from aged stains. He lit the sink drain and started rinsing them off with water that was a bit cooler. Desmond took a peek at the clock once he was finished setting everything to dry on the rack. He nodded his head, acknowledging the fact that he had a cool ten minutes left. Although he wasn't even dressed, an apron and boxer briefs hardly counted, it was right on time for the schedule he set himself the night before. Everything was packaged and then stored in appropriate temperature controlled containers. Then they were all packed together in a big, insulated tote bag. He left the bag on his couch, next to the clothes he had laid out for himself last night. There was a roll of athletic tape mixed in with everything as well. Desmond grabbed it, threw off the apron on a nearby chair, and slipped clear out of his boxers.

In his bedroom, Desmond kneeled one legged in front of a large, standing mirror, with one foot propped on a very low stool. He was unrolling the athletic tape, wrapping it around the thigh that kneeled to the floor. Around his thigh, and the nuisance that hung just next to it, stopping where his thigh muscles started to connect to his knee. It was something he'd been doing since high school, when one of the school's volunteer athletic trainers showed him how. It was embarrassing having someone do it for him, so after the first time, Desmond sought out to do it himself. It wasn't until college when Desmond found a brand that was soft enough not to chafe him. And he'd been using it ever since. In his college career and his professional one. Even after his injury he still used it occasionally for noninjury purposes, fixing himself, at least temporarily, for a date. Much like he was doing now. It wasn't a great solution, as thick as he was in the thighs and appendage. But if he was going out on a date, he had to dress up, and those thick, almost baggy pants he wore for everyday use didn't give a very good impression. Once Desmond was done wrapping himself up, he grabbed a pair of scissors from his nightstand, snipping the tape off from the roll. He set the roll and the scissors onto his nightstand before he started checking himself out in the mirror, inspecting the job he'd done. Not perfect. But good. Good enough since the pants he would be wearing still had a bit of space in them.

Desmond got dressed after striding back into the living room. He threw on a baseball tee shirt with a gray body and dark blue short sleeves. It hugged his frame, clinging to the definition of his muscles. He'd been told that ladies liked muscles, and that it was ok, even good, to show them off. He liked them himself. Proof of all his hard work and dedication. They made him look good, and that made him feel good. His pants were, like yesterday, jeans. Except they were a little more expressive than the pair he wore the other day. The jeans framed his butt nicely and were also a snug, but comfortable fit right on top of his hips. The only thing similar to what he wore yesterday was the wide cut in the thighs, offering plenty of space, although it would look strange to the eyes of anyone that noticed how one thigh filled much more nicely than the other. But Desmond had taped his buddy to the inside thigh, tucked out of the way, so that one would only find that out if they were looking for it. He finished it off with a classic black belt, cleaner than his others, which were all worn down. His shoes weren't anything special. Just a pair of black sneakers. He considered them his lucky pair, because he'd worn them for so long now and without the appearance breaking down, simply collecting grime and wrinkles like shoes typically did. On more than one occasion he considered even wearing them to formal dates too. His teammates had convinced him otherwise, and that he should stick to the occasion first and foremost.

This occasion wasn't anything fancy. But it was something simple. Something he could put effort into, pouring in love and care. Sometimes this kind of thing was a hit. Other times not so much. But if Luna was like her father often described her, Desmond figured she'd be the type of girl to like this. He slung the big, rectangular tote bag over his right shoulder, hanging it by his left waist. He grabbed his keys off the bowl by the front door and he made his way through it. Stopped before it, more aptly. He didn't even try stepping through with him and the bag at the same time. Desmond didn't want to crush the contents like he did with the cake. He was being extra careful. The bag slipped through first, then Desmond followed after.

The sun was out, but not too overbearing. Although whenever it was out, regardless of the heat, he always applied lotion before leaving, skin just a bit sleek with the sheen. There were light breezes passing by. It was going to be a good day, a perfect day even for what he had in mind. Desmond checked his phone, finding out he was right on time. Honestly, that was surprising. Usually he would run into a hitch along the way, discovering something he missed or messing something up in his preparations. He considered this a good omen. And he walked on over to John's, or rather, Luna's house, again cutting through the grass despite his neighbor's insistence. He was about to ring the doorbell when the door opened up in front of him. Simply standing where he stood with his line of sight clearing over the door, he saw her cleavage pop into view first. If he had seen this on the first day they met, the way her low collar lining exposed almost full enormity of her pale, milky breasts, Desmond would've been knocked out cold with the sudden loss of blood in his head. But now he knew the lady behind the breasts too. He liked her breasts, but he was starting to like her too, and more than the breasts, so he had just enough respect to be a gentleman.

"Hi, Luna," he said with obvious anticipation, briefly looming over the half opened door before stepping out to the side to greet her. "You look so good. Like yesterday good, but better." He didn't just mean her breasts either. She looked cute with her hair up, those auburn locks held up and away from her face, allowing him a full look at all her pretty features.

Desmond held out his hand to her, wanting to help her down the steps, though it was a measly amount, and there wasn't much space for the both of them on the normal sized pathway. So he stepped down instead, hand still outstretched so that she'd be on the side of without the tote bag. At the same time, he was sort of sheepishly turned not quite away, but not quite straight at her either. He could feel the slightest, smallest loosening of his carefully wrapped binding as he reacted like any man naturally would in her presence. "It's good park weather. Good weather for a short walk to the park too," he said, trying to shift his focus of attention away from his date and to the date.

 

[Velvet-Tied-Cherub]

She opened the door to see that strapping figure once again covering the doorway, blocking out the sun and casting a shade that almost felt like it had it's own weight to it, though last time she might have hesitated, feeling that panic towards a stranger, this time her face was painted in that dreamy 'oh hellllooo there~' look, coral lips curled at each end like he tugged them up himself, eyes squinting from the delight, her chest swelling up (even -more-) over that raven dress, with the inhale, like she was sucking in fuel for the day.

"Hey~" Luna sighed enamoredly before tumbling into a brief fit of giggles what with his turn of phrase. "Yesterday good but better? Heh, if I can only strive for that every day then I'd be unstoppable."

She let her fingers curl over the edge of his held out palm, the brief image of a princess and a knight whirling around in her ruby head, though as she stepped from the house, the lack of space from inside the home to on the porch being significant, until he took a step backwards, along a descent a bit more easily over the 4 steps before the lawn, though with the angle of their torsos and the personal-mountains on her chest taking up so much space already, as she side stepped to pass him to the little cobblestone pathway towards the side walk, as much as she tried to give both of them space, she couldn't help but be aware how her chest grazed over his stomach, the memory-foam of them molding momentarily, the density being able to lightly hitch over his shirt, tugging it to the side as she tread past.

Once her tits jiggled off of him, going back to their natural spheres, that starlight-satin cleavage poppling over the rim of her gown, her viridescent eyes looked down at the ground, trying not to bring too much attention to the rubbing, just a brush between two people on a date, her free hand fixing her glasses to sit right on her nose, "I love little walks to the park, how'd ya know?" She swallowed, trying not to envision how it would feel if that mighty abdomen was braced down onto her...while her legs were spread wide and hitched on muscular hips while-

Luna continued to hold Desmond's lovely tawny hand as she proceeded, tugging him in the direction of the nearby park she knew well, forcing her eyes to look at the bag he carried as opposed to...anything else, "I'm sensing a theme, lemme guuuuuesss, are we gonna have a picnic?" She smirked sweetly, her brow cocked up at him as her thumb rubbed back and forth over his palm.

 

[Marvin]

Desmond had the clarity of mind to punch himself right square on the jaw the moment she looked away. It was a low sounding thud, barely audible, with only enough force to jar his senses loose from the paralyzing sensation of her soft, monumental breasts brushing against and past him. He shook himself off before following after her, gripping her small hand in his, fingers gentle, but firmly wrapped around her.

Then he almost froze in place the moment she'd deduced his plans for their date. The big man had no pokerface. He was quiet for a few seconds. "Uh. Yeah," he said, a little dumbfounded.

Then he was by her side, slightly brushing up against her shoulder with the muscles of his right arm. He was leaning a little towards her with a inquisitive look, like he was trying to figure out if she had mind reading powers or something similar.

"Oh!" A tiny realization sprouted. Desmond was walking on the inside track of the sidewalk. He pulled his hand away, fell back a step, swiftly lifting the strap over his head and swinging the bag onto his right hip. He let it snag on his left shoulder before reappearing at her side, this time leaving her on the inside track, so that he was between her and the potential oncoming traffic of the road. He snatched up her hand, letting his fingers intertwine, holding it at his side. He gave her a brief smile before his face fell back into that inquisitive expression.

That curious, introspective gaze was locked into a visible struggle, evident from the changing expressions on his face. A few steps, later, he gave up thinking about it, and instead he blurted out his confusion, the mystery at hand he considered of the utmost importance still far from being solved. "How'd you find out? I even kept it as a secret! All I said was that we're going to the park!"

He was clutching the tote bag by the strap across his chest with his right hand, utterly oblivious.

 

[Velvet-Tied-Cherub]

Luna's brow had flinched as she heard a faint 'thwap' noise from behind her, but at the speed of Desmond, by the time she had looked back at him and spoken, she couldn't see any sign of anything wrong, it being a mental note to file away but nothing more than that.

As she played coy, as she thought the joke would be the very fact that it was clear what his intentions were, the curvy woman was surprised to see what appeared to be a genuine gleam of shock, like...like he didn't think it was apparent what they were doing, almost saddened from her having guessed.

Or perhaps he was just leaning into her joking with more joking? 'Playing the part' of her being an expert guesser and him being found out?

Though he seemed much more dejected than that.

She gave the two of them a moment to be in silence, returning his regard with a side ways glance, trying to get a read off him as he stared at her blushing face, figuring he was headed towards the punchline of their interaction any moment now.

The maroon-tressed woman then continued her observations, watching him realize something, then circle her from behind before he simply was just at her other side, and as their fingers entwined she frowned and tried to figure out why he felt the need, until a car passed by and she realized...

Oh, he was doing that gentlemanly gesture, making sure he was in-between her and any cars...wow, no one had done that since...well, when her ex-hsuband was her fiancé.

She smiled bittersweetly, holding his hand a bit more tightly, letting her side brush up against his with her heart beat a ginger th-thump, th-thump. The tenderness of this very simply gesture working her heart strings like a harp.

Gosh, how -fucking- precious could this big lug be?

It was as though he heard that thought because he spoke up just then, and she stared back into perplexed honey eyes.

Again, she thought this was a joke, glancing straight at the bag strap over his shoulder as she was pondering how to respond, which...well what else would he have in there? And also...he had asked her yesterday what food she liked...and what things were common sense to do on a date at the park??

What other guesses were there to conceive?

However, this man did not seem the sarcastic type, and then with the lightbulb that flashed over her head, she also comprehended, there was even the chance he didn't really understand satirical small talk either. She bit down so harsh on her tongue she worried it might bleed, all in the name of not chuckling.
She didn't want him to feel bad about all the tells he gave, or how it was unlikely most people -wouldn't- have been able to guess the same thing, and frankly his...she didn't want to say any words that could be considered insulting...so his...

His...slight mis step in the common sense avenue, was actually really charming.

How to not make him feel silly or dumb though??

Luna smacked her lips, letting her tongue free of her chompers, and she placed her free hand over the middle ravine of her bust, to add to her banter and make her stance appear more natural, "Oh don't feel bad! You see, uuuh...well I'm an author, I write fiction stories for a living, so it's practically my job to sus out clues and figure things out, how else could I write good plot twists and character betrayals or surprises if I can't be observant in my day to day life, you know? I had enough inklings were I was simply able to figure it out. That's all." She leaned his way, her chest coming in towards his elbow, threatening to bury that earthy limb between the snow-hills while her cheek snuggled up over that hefty bicep, accidentally stirring herself up, but doing her hardest to look past that in order to just be kind, wanting to be in the moment, chirping up at him, "It's still a good date idea, and I'm excited for it, surprise or not. Ok?"

 

[Marvin]

Every dog has his day, and even Desmond Bowen had rare moments of keen perception. He had heard this tone of voice before. It was careful, considerate, and kind. Although a little condescending. He wouldn't go as far as to say it out loud, but it felt like being treated like a child. But he had dealt with it enough in life, had this conversation such a numerous amount of times, that he knew she was coming from a place of good intentions. No man could fault that. He especially, wouldn't. He was a little tentative about bringing it up though. People didn't take kindly to the perceived insinuations, even if he told them he meant nothing by it. Worst of all, many just weren't receptive to someone like him telling them right from left. But how could he assume that of her? She'd been nothing but kind, and sweet, and lovely. Ever since the moment she met. The sensation of her breasts against his forearm and her face nuzzled into his bicep were enough to make the words accidentally tumble out on their own, but he owed it to be honest and plain with her.

"Luna," he started, peering down at her with an smile as they kept walking. "I know I'm not very smart."

The words were gentle and pure, without any underlying insinuation. He just wanted to set the record straight. He was dumb. He knew. And he was plenty fine with it.

"I'm kinda dumb. So when I somehow land a really smart, really hot woman," he wanted to say 'like you,' but omitted the words in as a teasing form of payback. "I end up really, really wanting to impress her with a fun surprise."

He sort of nudged back into her in a loving, reaffirming way. "Please don't feel bad about it. And when I'm being dumb or doing something stupid, you don't have to pretend like I'm not. I'm a grown man. You don't have to coddle me. But you can cuddle up to me all you want. You don't have to stop doing that." He couldn't hold back his laugh, loud and jolly. "But if you do that every time I say something stupid, you might get tired of me really soon."

It really was hard to ignore just how soft she felt against him. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and squeeze and hold her there tight. In wholesome ways and in unwholesome ways too. He cheerfully prattled on some more, trying to distract himself. "Since you're so good at figuring stuff out, I just have to try extra hard to get you with my next surprise. I might not be very clever," He purposefully paused, letting a cheeky grin spread on his face, like he was actually the smartest man in the world. He always gave it away the second things like this popped into his head. Then he tilted his head down towards her, not very close to her own head, but close enough to whisper, "but I'm really good at a lot of other things."

This time, as he winked at her, there was plenty of insinuation. Enough to even rile himself up. He felt the tape start to loosen again, this time far more than just the slight bit of tension he felt in front of her door. The proximity between their bodies didn't help in that regard. He had to fight the urge look, and kept failing, stealing glances at her tremendous bust bunched up on his arm. Desmond was starting to care less and less how he would look if the binding was fully compromised. But public indecency laws had another thing to say on the matter. In an act of desperate self preservation, he shifted the big tote bag from his right hip, to straight in front of his crotch, hoping to at least obscure the growing, though still light, strain along his thigh.

 

[Velvet-Tied-Cherub]

'I know I'm not very smart.'

Luna pulled her cheek from his bicep sharply, her brows knit at the center and the smile dropping off her face. She was prepared at first to apologize, but it seemed less like he was less accusing her of being rude to her and more just, declaring things about himself and requesting a certain type of behavior.

Despite his implication she was bit too thrown by a teaspoon of guilt being sprinkled over her heart and so she slowed her gait just barely, putting a bit of distance between them, literally just 2 inches actually, enough to where they mostly were not touching, and glancing down to the ground, watching where she walked.

She had some odd sensibilities, she wasn't avoiding his view as a show, it was so that, instead of looking at him, she was listening, -actively-, hearing him as she all too often knew what it was like to not feel understood, and regardless of her feelings, when a person voiced their emotions it was important to focus on understanding instead of reacting.
She nodded, and his tone was as elated as what was quickly seeming common for him, but those butterflies in her stomach still turned to bees as she couldn't quite snuff out the remorse, having wanted to be playful but learning she had come off condescending.

Condescending to the point he was calling -himself- stupid.

Luna's nose creased and her close mouth twitched at the edge, trying to absorb the information in a accepting way, trying to avoid doing the thing where she selfishly focused on how -his- feelings were making -her- feel, not noticing his head coming closer to her cerise head, only being tipped off when she felt his breath before the last half of his sentence, green orbs warily glancing up over her glasses, him being just close enough to where his face wasn't fuzzy.

With her over thinking seizing up again it was her turn to briefly not understand why he was smirking at the end of it all, but his wink made it easy to connect the dots.
A sort of surprised chuckle exhale left her nose and she was staring at the ground again, a few ideas of what he maybe could be talking about rife in her imagination.

She decided to respond to the entirety of what he said instead of just the end, not wanting it to seem like she wasn't listening to all of it to fixate on the steamy implication, though her confidence in properly observing people was a little deflated what with her making an emotional misstep, "Heh well, that's fair. Umm, sorry about that. I wasn't trying to...well, ahem, I hear you and I respect that. I'll keep it in mind."

The bosomy woman took the next short few minutes to think to herself, her free hand reaching down and fiddling with the end of her dress, going over in her mind how she could have responded better, editing her reality in her head, a practice she took up in high school, going over events that embarrassed her or were simply less than desirable, going back with things she learned in the present to imagine how she could have gone about it in hopes to utilize it in the future, this was also a good writing exercise, though, it was a bit somber as, before she utilized it for concocting prose, it was just a people-pleasing impulsiveness.

In this short span the two ended up at the simple park, a swing set, a play ground, and then a small lake beside a soft 'beach' of tiny rocks, a few people out as it was a nice day, but not especially crowded, a cluster of trees making for a good amount of shade amount the freshly cut grass.

 

[Marvin]

It was his bad habit, blurting out the things he wanted to say as if it was only natural to say them out loud. It ruined plenty of moments, dates. The mood had been so nice, only to now have been anything but. If only he had the sense to shut his mouth sometimes. He didn't like this type of atmosphere, but his mouth seemed to leave him wading in it quite often.

She apologized, but he hadn't been looking for an apology. Then again he supposed it was only natural someone would apologize when confronted with a topic like this so suddenly, even after he gave best effort to deliver it cheerfully. What did he expect, really? A pleasant ribbing in return followed by eager affection was what had played out in his mind. But when did things play out like they did in his head? The only thing that had gone the way he wanted was in getting rid of his erection. It was a mood killer, though in more ways than he liked.

She wasn't looking at him, and it felt off, different from the instances of her looking away from him yesterday. He didn't get it, didn't understand. And that was always it, wasn't it? Not understanding. But he wanted to understand, wanted to know. And that was what a relationship was, wasn't it? A place for him to want, and want, and want to his heart's selfish content. Naturally, it was a place for her wants as well. And in this moment, he desperately wished to know what she wanted so that he could give it to her. People were so complex, especially when they kept in silence. For him, simple ways always worked best.

The pair had made it to the park, but Desmond didn't want to just drag a distant Luna around. He liked her very much, and seeing her downcast and avoiding his gaze made their date and his plans a far, far off afterthought.

Although they were at the park's entrance, Desmond lifted the bag overhead and carefully placed it on the ground. He stepped in front of Luna. He tipped her chin up to meet his gaze. He grabbed her hands each with his own; soft, and gentle, but strong and unwilling to part. Even if it was his bad habit, he didn't want to be anything other than his genuine self, except, maybe, being her's.

"Tell me what you're thinking, please? Quiet Luna is pretty to look at, but I miss Talkative Luna. I miss your sweet voice. I want to listen to you think. I want you to tell me your worries, so I can be the man that makes them all fade away."

 

[Velvet-Tied-Cherub]

Luna had finished her third run-through of what playful or straight forward thing she could have said moments before, hoping she would be able to pep herself back up by the time the blanket was laid out, put on a face and then eventually that whole, what was it, fake it till you make it? Turn from the feelings and just be company worth being around, which was another routine thing.

Just sit with the feeling, deal with them internally (at least enough for them not to be a bother) and then have a good time so the other person wouldn't be worried.

Then pressure at the tip of her jaw tipped her head and those sidewalk mesmerized optics were looking up into honest mahogany rings and the sugar he spilled might as well have given the buxom lass a cavity.
That little wall she was bricking up, though not intentionally, felt like he was the big wolf and just blew it down like it was made of straw.
Her fingers curled around his palms, their clasps just a few inches above her generous ravine, it jutting out so far her arms would have needed to be straight out to not at least be mildly hovering before them.

Gah damn, this guy, she just...why was pure honesty so...unpredictable? From all the twists and turns she knew of just for sake of writing and just being a up front person was some kinda whirlwind?

Luna opened her mouth, envy of his sincerity making her attempt to just follow in his foot steps, though, she tripped up for a second, not wanting him to be concerned, guilty already that she had taken so long to be noticed there was even something going on, "I...I'm fine," That wasn't convincing...and a lie, so she corrected quickly, her right eyes squinting, "I'm just, a little embarrassed," Her shoulders did their little shift thing, downy pillows tottering, trying to wade through the vulnerability of stating her feelings, well, feelings that weren't completely positive, "Usually I'm just better at being...sensitive to peoples feelings I suppose? But I mean, you weren't even upset it seemed, I just...I suppose..." The pink of her cheeks were shifting red and expanding all around her face, so she couldn't help but break the gaze again, a awkward smile on her lips, "I think I'm just nervous."

She could be...-really- forthright...since they were walking that trail...

Her tiny hands held his a bit more tightly, "In...the name of honesty...it's been...-sorta- a long time since my last first date? Like," Pastel emeralds looked to umber view, nose heavily creased and her eyes squinted, as though she could -feel- the weight of her confession, realizing how much it likely played a part into her nerves and over thinking this day, "11 years long?"

Another quick avoidance, the admittance causing goosebumps to litter her skin like a swarm of fireflies and she even shivered a bit, another ripple over the plentiful rounds, her lower lip pursing, "So, I'm rusty...I'm just rusty."

Practice a bit of boldness for goodness sake.

Luna pulled his hands up, stepping closer, letting his forearms rest over that winter valley, the masses feeling like dough as much as they looked it, though her intent was just to connect again a bit as she forced her owl eyes to maintain contact with his tanned face, "Sorry, you're very sweet, and umm, I'll be fine, I just, need to shake the dust off I guess. I wanna...I wanna just enjoy our date."

 

[Marvin]

Her words were like honey liquid. She was so sweet, so cute, and so precious. Impressively, he wasn't even cognizant of how sexy she was anymore. He was completely locked into the moments of honesty and vulnerability, and growing even more madly in love. He squeezed her hands tight, his eyes completely locked onto her without so much as a wayward glance elsewhere, even as her breasts mashed against his arms.

"That's okay."

So she'd been in a long relationship before meeting him? He did want to hear more about it, but only because he wanted to learn more about her. But what really mattered now was that she was with him, not officially but, at least in his opinion, well on her way to being so.

"That's really okay. And," he added, running his thumbs along the back of her hands. "Embrassed is cute. So is rusty."

Desmond let go of her hands, fetching the tote bag full of their picnic necessities before returning to her side. He didn't bother slinging it over his shoulder, instead he had the straps balled up in his huge fist, carrying the bag instead. His free hand snatched hers once more as he started to lead her down the path to an open, flat patch of grass. It was the perfect spot for their picnic.

He glanced back at her, abruptly stopping until she caught up next to him. He unclasped his hand from hers, pulling her into a tight embrace like where she had been before, his hand now on tightly joined to her waist. He started walking again, his pace carelessly a little faster than hers. "This is much better."

He hadn't peeled his eyes away even now. "I'm happy I get to be your first date in eleven years. I'm gonna ruin your standards for everyone else." He was grinning impishly, like he had just revealed his devious master plan.

Then, because he hadn't bothered to look in front of him, Desmond almost tripped over an overgrown tree root jutting out from the dirt. Luckily, he had let go of Luna when he felt his foot catching. Desmond freely stumbled forwards to the designated spot where he finally managed to right himself.

He waved to Luna with that boyish grin and started to set up their picnic arrangement, pulling a blanket out from one of tote bag compartments.

 

[Velvet-Tied-Cherub]

"Cute Rusty...sounds like a young adult novel...or some mechanic terminology..." She joked, though mostly to keep herself from disagreeing that rustiness could be considered cute, not wanting to bat away his continued kindness...(though also sort of avoiding accepting the compliment fully at the same time.)

...She would need to work on this full blown honesty thing wouldn't she?

Luna let her moisturized hand give his bear-paw mitt an appreciative clutch, her mind taking a broom and trying to smack away the over-thinking gremlin in her head like a bug in the kitchen. She could see the perfect little section of grass with the sunbeams pouring in between the leaves when she let out a small eep of a noise once that finger lock quickly turned to a very 'boy friend- girl friend' hold, her hourglass side pressed up against his stony formation, the edge of her bosom pushed up into the side of his stomach, like a spherical snoot nuzzling him affectionately, her heart all twitterpated, having to speed walk, almost a light jog, in order to keep up with his longer gait.

A light hearted laugh erupted from her mouth as he spoke like he was being lovingly maniacal, giving away his ambition for their interactions as she had her arm closest to him back behind and under his muscly limb to lay along his broad back, anchoring herself to not trip along side him, "Heh ha ha, well, I mean, you're off to a good start. Say it won't be long now till your goal is a complete success." To be fair, her standards for romance had been set a bit low considering her previous heart break.
Even with what felt like a hiccup, the way in which the situation wasn't escalated and the bright sunshiny disposition of his just kept shining away, it felt like photosynthesis, and she was a flower blooming.

Luna's chest did it's usual more hefty bouncing with them picking up the base, rub rub rubbing against him since they were so close, like bubbles filled with gelatin, but quite warm.

Then, the poor guy, in the midst of their little back and forth, suddenly, he was careening forward, her breath catching with a loud gasp in her throat as he lifted his grasp away so as to not take her down with him, her hands reaching out to try and maybe grab him (but fuck how that probably would have gone badly) but luckily, with just a small skid he was standing tall.

Luna placed her hand over her mouth to keep from chortling, knowing her voice would get pretty loud from the silly display if she let it, instead just making her bright eyes do the grinning.
She then scuttled over, still grinning as he began to set things up, deciding to put her adjusted mannerisms to the test as she commented on his deft avoidance of the grass, leaning into his charm instead of away, hopefully this playfulness would come off how she hoped, "Nice save. The dismount was a bit wobbly but you stuck the landing. 3.5 out of 5, I'd say."

She held out her hands as she sat on her lower legs on the picnic cover, wanting to help him set up the food so as to be of use to the date, the way her thighs were bent and up together stretching the fabric of the ebony gown over her supple lap, almost becoming slightly translucent from the pull of threads, making her hips look all the more luscious and that waist more trim, but of course, still could not compare to the soft winter highlands below her clavicle.

 

[Marvin]

Desmond had never done a picnic date before. It was a new thing to him, and honestly a little daunting. Everything was in his hands. But he always liked the idea. It was romantic, personal. And despite his appearance, as she must've realized by now, he quite liked intimate things like this. He had bought all the temperature controlled containers a few months ago for other reasons, but those plans never came through. They'd gone unused for so long he hoped they still worked. He also hoped she liked his cooking. The most he had ever done cooking for another person besides himself was being made to man the grill at the family barbecue. He liked his cooking and he always ate a lot of it, but that had plenty of bias there.

Fortunately, everything was going smoothly, much of it thanks to Luna's willing assistance. The plastic cups and plates hadn't been crushed. None of the ice in the box cooler had melted. There were two jugs stuffed inside the box among the ice, one with plain water and the other sweet tea. The insulated containers had kept the heat well. The steaks he had cooked were still hot to touch. They were pan seared T-bones, sliced in slightly thicker than normal cuts showing a rich, juicy color. Enough to feed two of him. He couldn't help himself from hungrily plucking one from the container and into his mouth. He happily chewed, smacking his lips, as dumped a whole plate load on Luna's plate, handing her a plastic fork as well.

Then he brought out the broccoli, pan fried in the remnants of the steak. There was a ridiculous amount of broccoli. The contents filled multiple flat, plastic containers. And there was a distinct lack of much else aside from those two foods.

Desmond was munching on a handful of broccoli when he set out the drinks, cups, and some napkins. He sat himself next to Luna, not wanting for anything to literally and physically come between them. His right knee was laid on top of hers. He was sitting cross-legged, fully in her space, simply enjoying the physical closeness between them. The picnic blanket was actually quite big, one made for a party of at most a squished together eight. There was plenty of space around them, but Desmond liked it right here.

Desmond turned to her, and asked with a full mouth, "What do you think?" As far as he was concerned, he had done and was doing bang up job.

Although, he had to keep eating to keep himself from gawking.

 

[Velvet-Tied-Cherub]

Luna hummed sweetly as she assisted setting down the cutlery, and upon seeing the meal of choice she grinned kindly, having already figured the 1 of two options likely in there, even without the surprise, still purely delighted by the lengths he went to, and the pan searing looked perfect, her mouth watering as they dolled out the portions.

Though, the portions did seem rather...substantial.

The vermillion tressed woman did her best to lean his way as he completely settled into her bubble, like a gigantic cat wanting to be partially in her lap, sitting on the side of her wide hip and allowed his knee to more comfortably lean over hers.

As she placed her plate on her pillow lap she realized how much of a challenge a steak lunch was for a picnic meal, having to balance the dish while cutting with a fork and knife without the thing tipping over.

She popped the first bite into her mouth and her eyes did that half lidded 'yuuuumm' look, one hand reaching up to cup her own cheek as she chewed.
She was still devouring the meat when Desmond spoke up, looking into his face with the food bits visible in his jaw, though she decided to finish chewing before responding with an enthusiastic gulp, "I think it's great," she took a glance to the amount and took another moment to practice straight forwardness in low stakes situations, "Though, I'm not sure how much I'll be able to 'put away', I mean, I have a healthy appetite I think, buuuut, not as deep a stomach," She arched a brow, genuinely curious, "Unless, perhaps I'm underestimating how big your stomach is? You're quite the mountain, so I assume mountains need lots of fuel." She glanced up at the sky, mumbling to herself, "Mountains don't need fuel..." then piping back up, busty lass smiling to her hopeful beau, "Either way, don't want any of this to go to waist, so depending on how much devouring your are thinking of doing, I'll happily take some of this as left overs. It really is very good, I might even have to eventually tell my dad he's not the best steak chef anymore...hopefully he'll take it well."

 

[Marvin]

To hear his cooking was good was like being annoited an Iron Chef to Desmond. The huge man was elated, and he celebrated her good news with another mouthful of steak: four cuts stabbed down on one fork. He devoured it, chewing a cheerful tune.

"You can take home as much as you want!"

Desmond was the type of man to eat as if he was constantly hungry. He was used to big portions and very filling meals. Maintaining his weight and bulk when he had been in the pros, and even throughout college, and to a lesser extent high school, was taxing work, in the weight room and at the dinner table. But even so, there was a lot of food here. He liked ending a meal full, but not debilitatingly so. Those days were long past him.

"I'll eat half, maybe." His maybe was trending on the over rather than the under.

But as the meal went on, Desmond found his appetite waning. He was putting away less and less bites. He found his eyes more wandering towards her than on the food. Desmond wasn't sure what it was. Maybe the insane ratio of meat, urging on his more primal, baser, testosterone driven instincts like some placebo? Perhaps the sheer degree of infatuation and enchantment he felt for her? Her overwhelming allure and sex appeal? Whichever one it was, or if it was all of the three, or even a combination, Desmond had no interest in investigating.

Desmond gulped down his thoroughly chewed steaks, followed by a cup of water downed in an instant. His hand fell on her back with a tender touch. The big mit caressed her before wrapping around her and softly squeezing her thigh through the black dress. He leaned into her, his broad chest and shoulders suddenly against her back. His head was against hers, and he kissed her boldly on the cheek. Honestly, he wanted to do so much more. His mouth had much less restraint. "Luna. Remember what I said about being your first date after your ex? I want the rest of your firsts too."

 

[Velvet-Tied-Cherub]

Luna chuckled at his admittance of eating half, 'maybe', even that being a sizable portion, but it seemed appropriate for his build. It was a delightful little time, nomming on nice food, her favorite meal, with a nice handsome guy and also, the buzz of happiness floating about his expression just by her saying she thought it tasted good. It was so very cute.

She had actually briefly managed to settle into a more wholesome and just content mindset as they sat, despite her raging libido she seemed to have bubbling beneath rather constantly since they were in the kitchen, the curvy form so close to that brawny stature, and then as she swallowed another nice big morsel of meat her spine lit up with sparks as she felt that paw reach other, and glanced from her peripheral vision as she watched a big bronzed hand knead into her cushy thigh, the relatively firm tissue keeping it's shape with just a bit of pliability, being the closet bit of muscle on her otherwise pure plush self, and a silly but excited smile grazed her pearly mouth, nervous as she could practically -hear- the steamy thoughts he was likely thinking.

Even with so much as just a kiss to the cheek, had a little trail of tingles ignite beneath the point-of-contact and suddenly swim down her bloodstream towards her pelvis like electric eels.

"The rest of my firsts?" She felt her tongue dart out, wetting her upper lip, hesitating as she worked up her courage, slowly she turned in her seat, so that nice broad chest was against her side instead of her back, giving him yet again a almost perfect bird's eye view of the immense thin-line-canyon between the spheric expansive of moonlight satin beneath her collar. Her viridescent bespectacled view turned up towards sepia rings, her mouth already slightly parted as she knew well and good there were plenty of her own ideas going over in her mind, many of which had her directly underneath Desmond, both panting, and...-moving.-, "I think we could do that...but...what do you have in mind for...my second first then? Any-" Her eyeline dropped towards his lips, swallowing subconisouly as the thoughts in her ruby head was starting to become down right vulgar...romantic, but just...absolutely raunchy, "Any..suggestions?"