|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Dec 27, 2015 4:16 pm
She'd been watching the store fronts of the buildings they passed, the water in the river, simply enjoying the early evening air and a nice, leisurely stroll with some nice, albeit new company. Porsha hadn't even realized how quiet she was being until Isaiah was pointing it out. She blinked up at him, brows drawn up before giving a small shake of her head. "No, not really." For once her mind was blessedly clear of any weighing thoughts, it was a nice relief. "Just enjoying the ambiance and aesthetics." The fingers of the hand not currently settled at the crook of his arm moved in a lazy glide towards his wrist. "I don't make it out here much, so it's all pretty new to me." Pale eyes flicked up, lips pulling in a candid little smile. It her it hadn't been a strained silence, but a comfortable one. Companionable. The air near the river was cooler, which had her leaning a little closer to him. Distantly she could smell salt, and if they followed the river long enough they'd reach the bay, and the ocean. Here though, you couldn't even see it past the clustered arrangement of old buildings. There was only the worn cobblestones under their feet, and the bight, bold paints and prints of the signs that hung from the store fronts. "Oh," she lifted one hand, pointing at one of those brightly painted signs. 'TRAMPS' was written out in large, bold letters. Inside Po angled them towards a large corner both. Not because they needed the additional room, but because it put the most space between them and anyone else that might have been in the neighboring tables. A small sliver of privacy, not that Porsha was prone to watching her mouth or her actions regardless. She was rather shameless. As she settled into the corner, tugging gently on his arm to draw him close, she'd glance towards the counter, the window through which you could see the kitchen beyond, then back up to Isaiah. "So you've eaten here before. Is there anything you recommend?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2016 8:38 am
Isaiah smiled to himself. Inwardly he thought that he should be on her mind. Or just on her. Isaiah accepted the explanation of the visuals, for the promenade and old dockside buildings provided a well-worn aesthetic that pleased many an artist and photographer. This area was made semi-famous for all the photography stints performed in the area, where nights featured the city's stars against the river and day bequeathed a light fog off the water to smooth out the area's rougher stretches.
Isaiah tented his fingers onto the front door's glass pane as he was often wont to do, and his gaze strayed toward the clouded imprints left behind while it swung shut behind him. Following Porsha was no feat - the place looked busy, but not to the extent that one couldn't find ample seating. When Porsha chose a location, Isaiah stripped his jacket from his shoulders and hung it off one of the coat hooks mounted to the side of the booth. It was easy to respond to her touch; convention dictated he sit opposite her, but if she wanted side-by-side companionship for a little under-the-table play, he wouldn't object in the slightest. If food remained part of the plan, it ran only a slight chance of complicating the eating process with a one-in-ten chance of her being left-handed.
He sat just close enough that his thigh brushed hers. "I can recommend you avoid their casserole dishes." Reaching across her, he plucked two of the menus from behind the trays of condiments. A four-holster wire contraption held multiple types of hot sauce with ketchup and mustard. Beyond that sat salt and pepper shakers, trays full of different preserves, butter packages and sweetener packages. Isaiah handed her one of the menus. "I haven't been here often enough to have found a favorite; usually I just ask the waitress what they like best and order that. Well, as long as it's not a casserole."
The menu required little skimming. He wanted something easy on the stomach and low calorie, so a chicken salad was easiest. After flipping to the lunch section, an idle finger started corkscrewing the end of one of his long wefts of hair while he picked between the few salads they listed. Bleu cheese sounded best.
"It's not my favorite place, but the owner owes me a favor so I usually get the food here pretty cheap. It looks like the staff is a little preoccupied right now, though."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jan 17, 2016 12:01 pm
Their legs bumped beneath the table, and rather then drawing away from it, the young woman was turning slightly in the seat so she was half facing him while he perused the menu. Looking at his, rather than opening her own, Po lay her cheek against her knuckles as she rested her elbow on the tabletop. It'd only take a quick glance at the sandwich section to know what she wanted. Something filling, but not heavy. "No casseroles, got it." Lips twitched up in one corner as she lifted her gave from the menu to the man beside her. "Are the not very good, or...?" It wasn't very subtle, but Porsha wasn't usually one that bothered with such things, and she didn't figure Isaiah much cared for beating around the bush either. Both had been fairly obvious with their intentions, even if they hadn't come right out and declared it. A server made their way over to the table, flashing a smile to the both of them as she set down a pair of glasses and poured the both of them some tice water. Then she was drawing out a little pad of paper from her apron, flipping it open as she clicked the button on her pen. She asked for a drink order, and Porsha assured her that water would be just fine for her, and then asked if they were ready to order. Po, sitting straighter now, dropped her hands from the table, one coming to rest on the knee still resting against her own, squeezing gently as she grinned up at their server. "I'll have the BLT, thanks."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 22, 2016 12:51 am
"A couple years ago," Isaiah started without lifting his eyes from the menu, "this establishment had an e. Coli outbreak. I only know this because i like to look at the reviews of a restaurant before I decide to buy food from it. But, apparently, it was traced to the squash they use in most of their casserole dishes. They haven't had another outbreak, and I'm sure they've gone with a different source for their squash, but I've been hesitant to try them." E. Coli posed a serious threat for how it jeopardized his caloric control. Experience it now would undoubtedly leave him wasted and require significant rebuilding to return to his original form. That, and he wasn't interested in encountering exactly how much he would suffer.
When the server arrived, Isaiah shut his menu and handed it off. "Bleu cheese salad will be fine." The order was taken, their server departed, and Isaiah laced bony fingers in front of himself as he looked to Porsha. The squeeze of knee was not missed, and its happening prompted his next comment. "I should warn you that I have terrible table manners when it comes to pretty company." He expect that any move made could easily be shut down given her fighting experience, and that Porsha wasn't shy of doing so - this left him significant freedom in pushing boundaries, as she was perfectly willing and capable of telling him no. There would be some time before the server returned with food, and neither ordered drinks, so they had a ballpark twenty minutes to kill.
Isaiah knew exactly how he wanted to do it, too.
Both hands soon slipped from the table as Isaiah sat up. One hand ventured for present company's leg, to which he returned the knee squeeze, and if permitted, much more.Beejoux if she doesn't stop him, assume some under-the-table naughtiness
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2016 3:45 pm
"Ah." Well that made sense. It was better to err on the side of caution. Of course even if their casseroles were perfectly safe now, it wouldn't have been a good idea for tonight. Not if they were hoping to lose a little clothing and have a bit of fun. No, Porsha was happy with her choice. She waited patiently as Isaiah ordered his salad, watched their server write it all down and head back towards the kitchen, and had just reached for her water with her free hand when he spoke up again. It made her pause, attention sliding easily to him, and dark brows arched at his comment, a small little smile lighting along full lips. "Is that so?" Devilish. Her fingers gave another small squeeze, thumb tracing faintly up the line of the seam that traced his inner thigh. As his hands disappeared she smirked, gaze flicking out into the restaurant. No one was paying any attention to them. Warm fingers slid over her knee, returning the squeeze, and she bit her lip. Sitting up as well, leaning just a little to the side so they were sitting shoulder to shoulder. strickenized Naughty kids. does this need a fade to black?
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 03, 2016 10:03 am
"Terribly so," he confirmed dryly. "You can't take me anywhere." Isaiah took her wandering hand as a challenge - a race, precisely - and he, too, found the fine skin around thigh as he approached her shorts. Women's shorts, he found, were far more agreeable to these affairs, for his fingers found far less pant leg to navigate.
Isaiah pulled scarf from neck to pile on the leg farthest from Porsha. It blended similarly with his pants, allowing ample camouflage while the pair killed idle time in waiting for their food. He found that his stomach was far less insistent when competing against other complaining regions of the body. "Race you to the finish line?" He asked aloud, without looking at her.
I'll win.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|