[ No he's not really paying that much attention to anything either, by this point. Just bent on keeping up the waist-high charade and trying to get the most out of the show waist-down.
But it doesn't take that long to figure out the rules here, and he settles back down all at once, just letting her work and taking a swig of water from his glass to disguise the mild huff of irritation at not being allowed to participate. Not even much of a huff - half of it might be due to simply venting, she's giving him a lot of stimulation to handle. ]
Or cars made out of cotton candy, sure. Either'd work.
[SCIENCE! ...or something like that. Who gives a shit? The video's over and the lights come back on just in time. He's learned his place, even if he's huffy about it, and Angela presses into him, increasing her grip and sliding that oh so wanted thumb. Her hand is faster, not too much that it shows above the table, but enough that he feels it and hopefully, it'll give her a nice visual reaction to relish in above the table.]
[ The lights come back on and the back of Tony's neck is flushed and his eyes are darker but really no one who didn't know what was happening under the table - or hadn't had sex with him at some point before - would notice a difference. ]
Probably, yeah. Biodegradable to say the least. [ But oh, god, the increase, the slide, the speed - a moment after her thumb it just becomes a little too much and she's rewarded with first a slackening of the jaw, the eyes slightly flutter closed, and then the jaw goes tense, clenches, eyes blink back open, a small turn of the head, a smile to the next speaker as she steps up on stage, and then he returns to pretending like he's actually going to eat whatever it is on this plate put in front of him. When he finally speaks, his voice is a little forced. ] Seems like it. Hopefully there'll be another movie later. Less speechy.
Doesn't seem like it. Your people like the sound of their own voice.
[Perfect. She doesn't even have to look at him straight on to know that down at the nape of his neck, the hair there is sweaty (it's her favorite section to wind her fingertips in when they're really into it) and that his pupils are practically blown. She rewards him for that--what a good boy--going faster and letting the twist creep in every so often.
Her dinner remains untouched, though her napkin is draped across her lap; she can always use the excuse of not liking her steak done rare to avoid the questions. Anyway, there are other things she'd prefer being in her mouth. Maybe one day while he's on a conference call. That's an nice idea.]
[ Mmmm jesus, the reward just makes it harder to look normal, at least with a movie the lights are dimmer and people are all looking in the same direction - that is to say, they're far less likely to be glancing around the room and spot a man who is either in a bit of distress or a bit of a bit too much pleasure. He takes a bite of food, which gives his mouth something to do. Takes another sip of wine, because he can scrunch his eyes shut for a moment behind the distorted rim of the glass. The breathing is a little harder to control, but if he does it mostly with his stomach and diaphragm, it should be mostly hidden by the table, from anyone who isn't sitting right next to him.
Oh that would be fun. He does have such a problem with talking properly in such situations. ]
[It's better this way, with the lights on and eyes all around. It kicks up the risk and the excitement a little. The only thing that would make it better was if somebody else came up to start a conversation with Tony and he had to talk business.]
Should and do are two different animals, honey.
[As in she should stop these sexual shenanigans, but instead all she does is concentrate the movement on the head, thumb and fingers working overtime.]
[ It certainly does. Also no he's pretty sure that would be horrible, he doesn't want to talk business with anyone. He's starting to have a hard time keeping up with this conversation, let alone one with anyone who isn't privy to all the circumstances involved. ]
Very different, I noticed. [ It's kind of awkward sitting at the table and trying to lean forward on his elbow, which doesn't stop him actually trying but it does abort the movement, instead moving the other way and leaning further back into the chair. ]
[As innocent as she pleases, she turns her head towards him, eyebrows all furrowed in mock confusion as he shifts around in his seat. She's concerned about him, if anybody else at the table manages to look around. Concerned, yet, not even enough to hold back from rolling her thumb over the tip again, exactly how he likes it, exactly the way she always does when she wants him to talk after ordering him to shut up.]
Are you okay? [Casual. So casual. Watch her as she slickly moves her napkin off her lap and onto his with her free hand.] You look like you're finding this event a little hard to handle.
[It's a terrible pun, the kind that makes people groan. And that's her goal. Give her what she wants and she just might give him a nice reach down to his testicles.]
[ Right, a little hard to handle, exactly. He huffs out a chuckle, half begrudging amusement and half just venting out some of the overload coming on from keeping all of his reactions so tightly internalized. He's turned just slightly towards her a little bit, enough to try leaning on the table again, because he can rest his face in his hand then and cover up some of whatever expressions are getting past his control. ]
It's v-, ah, yes, very difficult. To handle. You, on the other hand, though. Handling it very well.
[That venting is as close as she's going to get to a groan out of him, at least in this trumped up ballroom. Angela's softhearted enough to give in when she can. He'll soon find fingernails gently scratching across the skin pf his testicles as she cups them in her fingers, thumb still wrapped around his cock's base.]
Well, you know me, the social butterfly. But I haven't had a lot of practice doing this, admittedly.
[ Well, it was as close as she was going to get before she dragged the tips of her fingernails across his balls, because that earned her a poorly muffled, slightly high-pitched noise from the back of his throat. His voice is rougher when he replies. ]
Wouldn't have noticed. You seem like a seasoned expert at it all.
I'm familiar with the area. That helps a lot, I think.
[She licks her lips when he whimpers or whines, whatever that sound was. Delicious. Angela could almost taste it in the back of her own throat and the fact that the woman sitting on the other side of Tony turns to look in his general direction for the source of the sound just heightens her own arousal. Managing to keep her cool is a long practiced skill, probably helped by not getting played with under the table herself, but details schmetails. Back to Tony.]
Do you think we're getting close to the end of this?
[Not that she wants him to come. In fact, if she can help it, she might even play around with denying him what he wants right here. Angela just needs to know if she needs to bring the napkin around closer.]
[ He barely even notices the woman turning to look at him - he's already been keeping his face as impassive as possible, hiding it with his hand a little, and when he can feel new eyes on him, he calmly as possible takes another bite of food to occupy himself instead of talking or smiling. It works okay, usually.
As for the question, he was already happy when she moved the napkin over to his lap, and he isn't even considering that she might drag things out, because the public aspect of it seems like enough for him. He takes a couple of steadying breaths before replying. ] I think it's not too far away.
[The woman shrugs off the sound, not seeing anything too out of the ordinary except for Tony Stark looking bored as a charity event and his date not paying attention to anything but him either.]
Then I should go powder my nose. There'll be photo ops, right? [One thing might be enough for him. Another might be enough for her. He's going find that out right now as she removes her hand from his lap, patting him like a good boy and leaning into his ear when she stands.] Stay there. Or else.
[ What. What. He looks over at her, slightly wide-eyed, nothing out of the ordinary range should anyone else catch the look on his face - all they'll see is something saying that he vaguely doesn't want her to get up and leave and that's precisely what she's doing anyway. Surely that's something that can be empathized with from either side. But either way, he makes sure to lean over the table, trying to obscure his lap, both elbows resting near the edge of it this time as he manufactures a nonchalance he doesn't currently possess. ] Yeah, photo ops. Where would I go?
[It's evil and cruel and oh well, he'll actually live for the eight minutes it takes Angela to stroll causally into the ladies' room and back again. Her nose doesn't actually seem like it was powdered, her hair hasn't been fixed in any way, but her right hand forms a loose fist on the path back. It's something nobody would notice except for her. And him when she settles back into her seat and creeps along his lap along to pick up right where she left off, only now the stroke is a lot smoother. Silkier. With a hint of gardenia.
Yeah - [ and some throat clearing, because that didn't come out a little shaky at all ] - yeah, they're gonna do that. Keep talking. That'll last for a while. [ If he's lucky, anyway. ]
[ That'll work. That'll get her the desired reaction, yes. Possibly even a shiver through his shoulders, down his back a little bit because he's putting much more effort into maintaining his facial expression and not shifting in his seat. ]
[She smirks, eyes dark with obvious arousal on her part, a look familiar to him, running her thumb across the head of his cock again, pressing right there as she moves against him. There's an obvious purpose behind her pace now; Angela wants him to come. Enough public torture already. Plus she wants to enjoy herself watching him orgasm surrounded by people with the lights on. How will Tony Stark be able to play that one off?]
[ He's having a harder time keeping his noises to himself, trying to control them with halting breathing and rigid posture. He keeps that up for a while, but it's obvious she's endgaming here, and he hides his jaw behind his hand, ostensibly just thinking about things but in reality helping to keep his mouth shut, covering where he's biting his lip to prevent a sound from escaping that way.
That does of course mean that instead, when he comes, it's gutteral, it sounds stifled somewhere in his chest and there doesn't appear to be too much reason for it, but he doesn't care just then because fucking hell and it'll take him a few moments to recollect himself. ]
[Angela doesn't know what's hotter: knowing how vocal he can get at this moment or visibly witnessing the utter restraint he has to dig deep for to keep his mouth shut for once. It doesn't work all that well because the woman next to him is tapping his arm and asking him if he's okay while Angela's snaking her hand away, dropping the now soiled napkin underneath the table.
She herself is turned slightly away from Tony, shifting uncomfortably in her seat because in a snug satin dress like this, a sudden surge of wetness between her thighs can be a bitch.]
[ By the time he's aware of the lady tapping his arm, she already has her phone out, and he puts his other hand over hers where it rests on his arm and gives her his best, albeit slightly tired looking, smile. ] No, look, I'm fine. Got carried away planning something in my head and some of this exceptional food went down the wrong way. [ 'Exceptional' with that tone could mean either way, he'll leave that up to them. A couple more exchanges, and he returns to his plate, the woman and the man whose attention she had also attracted. He looks at it for a moment, then slides his gaze over to her, watching. To her credit, now that he's not trying to convice people of something, his voice is husky and rough. ] Something wrong?
[The fact that his voice sounds like that really doesn't help her situation. She doesn't think she's ever told him that his voice is actually lovely, more so with an edge like that. A sip of water and she's the one leaning her elbows on the table, slightly hovering above her chair.]
No. How much longer until the speeches are done?
[It sounds more like 'how much longer until you can get back up?' without her actually saying the words. Damn her plan backfiring on her so quickly.]
[ He glances over to see who's speaking. ] Maybe ten minutes? Unless Mrs. Kensingterry gets up again to talk about her husband. Then more like five. Why?
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But it doesn't take that long to figure out the rules here, and he settles back down all at once, just letting her work and taking a swig of water from his glass to disguise the mild huff of irritation at not being allowed to participate. Not even much of a huff - half of it might be due to simply venting, she's giving him a lot of stimulation to handle. ]
Or cars made out of cotton candy, sure. Either'd work.
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[SCIENCE! ...or something like that. Who gives a shit? The video's over and the lights come back on just in time. He's learned his place, even if he's huffy about it, and Angela presses into him, increasing her grip and sliding that oh so wanted thumb. Her hand is faster, not too much that it shows above the table, but enough that he feels it and hopefully, it'll give her a nice visual reaction to relish in above the table.]
Oh, movie's done. Another speech?
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Probably, yeah. Biodegradable to say the least. [ But oh, god, the increase, the slide, the speed - a moment after her thumb it just becomes a little too much and she's rewarded with first a slackening of the jaw, the eyes slightly flutter closed, and then the jaw goes tense, clenches, eyes blink back open, a small turn of the head, a smile to the next speaker as she steps up on stage, and then he returns to pretending like he's actually going to eat whatever it is on this plate put in front of him. When he finally speaks, his voice is a little forced. ] Seems like it. Hopefully there'll be another movie later. Less speechy.
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[Perfect. She doesn't even have to look at him straight on to know that down at the nape of his neck, the hair there is sweaty (it's her favorite section to wind her fingertips in when they're really into it) and that his pupils are practically blown. She rewards him for that--what a good boy--going faster and letting the twist creep in every so often.
Her dinner remains untouched, though her napkin is draped across her lap; she can always use the excuse of not liking her steak done rare to avoid the questions. Anyway, there are other things she'd prefer being in her mouth. Maybe one day while he's on a conference call. That's an nice idea.]
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Oh that would be fun. He does have such a problem with talking properly in such situations. ]
My voice is lovely. People should like it.
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Should and do are two different animals, honey.
[As in she should stop these sexual shenanigans, but instead all she does is concentrate the movement on the head, thumb and fingers working overtime.]
/laaaaaaate sorry
Very different, I noticed. [ It's kind of awkward sitting at the table and trying to lean forward on his elbow, which doesn't stop him actually trying but it does abort the movement, instead moving the other way and leaning further back into the chair. ]
UNFORGIVEN!!! /rains fire and thunder and such
Are you okay? [Casual. So casual. Watch her as she slickly moves her napkin off her lap and onto his with her free hand.] You look like you're finding this event a little hard to handle.
[It's a terrible pun, the kind that makes people groan. And that's her goal. Give her what she wants and she just might give him a nice reach down to his testicles.]
;_______;
It's v-, ah, yes, very difficult. To handle. You, on the other hand, though. Handling it very well.
Re: ;_______;
Well, you know me, the social butterfly. But I haven't had a lot of practice doing this, admittedly.
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Wouldn't have noticed. You seem like a seasoned expert at it all.
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[She licks her lips when he whimpers or whines, whatever that sound was. Delicious. Angela could almost taste it in the back of her own throat and the fact that the woman sitting on the other side of Tony turns to look in his general direction for the source of the sound just heightens her own arousal. Managing to keep her cool is a long practiced skill, probably helped by not getting played with under the table herself, but details schmetails. Back to Tony.]
Do you think we're getting close to the end of this?
[Not that she wants him to come. In fact, if she can help it, she might even play around with denying him what he wants right here. Angela just needs to know if she needs to bring the napkin around closer.]
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As for the question, he was already happy when she moved the napkin over to his lap, and he isn't even considering that she might drag things out, because the public aspect of it seems like enough for him. He takes a couple of steadying breaths before replying. ] I think it's not too far away.
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Then I should go powder my nose. There'll be photo ops, right? [One thing might be enough for him. Another might be enough for her. He's going find that out right now as she removes her hand from his lap, patting him like a good boy and leaning into his ear when she stands.] Stay there. Or else.
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[It's evil and cruel and oh well, he'll actually live for the eight minutes it takes Angela to stroll causally into the ladies' room and back again. Her nose doesn't actually seem like it was powdered, her hair hasn't been fixed in any way, but her right hand forms a loose fist on the path back. It's something nobody would notice except for her. And him when she settles back into her seat and creeps along his lap along to pick up right where she left off, only now the stroke is a lot smoother. Silkier. With a hint of gardenia.
Lotion.]
They're still talking.
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Yeah - [ and some throat clearing, because that didn't come out a little shaky at all ] - yeah, they're gonna do that. Keep talking. That'll last for a while. [ If he's lucky, anyway. ]
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I don't think I can say the same for you.
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Can't argue with that. Excellent point.
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[She smirks, eyes dark with obvious arousal on her part, a look familiar to him, running her thumb across the head of his cock again, pressing right there as she moves against him. There's an obvious purpose behind her pace now; Angela wants him to come. Enough public torture already. Plus she wants to enjoy herself watching him orgasm surrounded by people with the lights on. How will Tony Stark be able to play that one off?]
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That does of course mean that instead, when he comes, it's gutteral, it sounds stifled somewhere in his chest and there doesn't appear to be too much reason for it, but he doesn't care just then because fucking hell and it'll take him a few moments to recollect himself. ]
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She herself is turned slightly away from Tony, shifting uncomfortably in her seat because in a snug satin dress like this, a sudden surge of wetness between her thighs can be a bitch.]
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No. How much longer until the speeches are done?
[It sounds more like 'how much longer until you can get back up?' without her actually saying the words. Damn her plan backfiring on her so quickly.]
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