[ 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?
[If Mrs. Kensingterry even thinks about opening her mouth again tonight, Angela's throwing her wine glass at her. No one really wants to hear about the legacy he left behind in the field of energy engineering for the second time in one night.
Suddenly, Angela stands up a little stiffly, turning to slide between her and Tony's chairs.]
I'm going to the bathroom again. [This time, when she comes back, there's a little lace bundle being stuffed into Tony's pants pocket. It's the answer to his question.]
[ Tony's of a similar mind when it comes to Mrs. Kensingterry, it was why he assumed she would halve the time he'd need to ensure he could walk properly again.
However, Angela's methods do have merit. There's a lot to be said for Angela's methods as well. He puts his hand in his pocket to figure out what that was, feels the wetness involved, and looks over at her. ] You know, I'm not sure the first course quite agreed with me, all that seafood, would you mind terribly if we went home early? [ All for the benefit of that other woman at their table. ]
[Her messages always come loud and clear and bluntly even if she doesn't actually say them out loud. She cocks her head towards him, eyes darker than normal, but the rest of her face is a mostly poor imitation of somebody who is truly concerned for his health. At least it works well enough for the other woman who turns her head, looking just as worried.
Fully turning on him, she places a hand in his lap so she can slyly zip him back up as her other hand turns his face this way and that for better lighting.]
You do look kind of green to me. Maybe an allergic reaction? I'll call Happy.
[The woman, the dear heart but nosy as hell, taps Tony on the arm again to wish him well and to give him unsolicited medical advice containing some oddball mixture of prune juice, Pepto Bismol, and a shot of whiskey to ease his stomach.]
Thank you. [ And then he has to turn back to the other lady, thank her for the advice, and mention something about the charity she's here for, his people, her people, all that, before he can stand up and pull out Angela's chair for her. ] He should be around front by now I think.
[Such a gentleman. His chivalry will be rewarded greatly in a few minutes. Angela makes a show of putting her hand on Tony's back, somewhere along the middle of it, in that caring sort of please-don't-throw-up-on-my-shoes-because-they're-Italian kind of way as they head towards the exit of the grand hall.
The minute they're outside, she drops the act and shuffles him into the backseat of the car, straddling his hips while hitting the button to close the privacy divider.]
[ He slides into the seat with relative ease, the kind not borne of nausea whatsoever, and is quite pleased when she immediately straddles him. Happy's eyes in the rearview mirror disappear and Tony waves a short goodbye and then returns his attention to the woman in his lap. Now he can get his hands on her. Now it can be a little more fair. ]
[Not quite so fast there, Speedy. While she'll let those hands get into trouble for the moment, Angela has plans. Those plans involve her working his bowtie off as she kisses him, hungrily, like she hasn't seen him or felt him in weeks, unbuttoning his shirt as she grinds her hips slowly against his lap. Those are her plans, but they are not her only ones.]
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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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Suddenly, Angela stands up a little stiffly, turning to slide between her and Tony's chairs.]
I'm going to the bathroom again. [This time, when she comes back, there's a little lace bundle being stuffed into Tony's pants pocket. It's the answer to his question.]
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However, Angela's methods do have merit. There's a lot to be said for Angela's methods as well. He puts his hand in his pocket to figure out what that was, feels the wetness involved, and looks over at her. ] You know, I'm not sure the first course quite agreed with me, all that seafood, would you mind terribly if we went home early? [ All for the benefit of that other woman at their table. ]
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Fully turning on him, she places a hand in his lap so she can slyly zip him back up as her other hand turns his face this way and that for better lighting.]
You do look kind of green to me. Maybe an allergic reaction? I'll call Happy.
[The woman, the dear heart but nosy as hell, taps Tony on the arm again to wish him well and to give him unsolicited medical advice containing some oddball mixture of prune juice, Pepto Bismol, and a shot of whiskey to ease his stomach.]
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The minute they're outside, she drops the act and shuffles him into the backseat of the car, straddling his hips while hitting the button to close the privacy divider.]
Hi Happy. Bye Happy.
[She's sure he's used to this.]
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