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Description
Inner turmoil was battering it's way through him. Listening to her explanation, he felt the pangs of regret and didn't know exactly how to react. She had only been doing what he had wanted her to do all along. Give into the first thought she had. Don't question things. Live life the way it's meant to be, at utter and blissful absences of planning. Pudding. He'd never admit how much he enjoyed being cooed and coddled by one woman, masking it behind the facade of the thrill killer he was. This was his Harley. His toy. How awful and dreary his life had become without that playmate. Fingers eased, loosening the grasp of that woman's hair and allowing her freedom. His words found themselves talking privately to her, just like they had always been when they were in the asylum, in mixed company. When he talked to Harley, he centered all his warped and deranged attention upon the blonde. "You never apologize to me about the way I made you Harley. If I didn't like what I did to you, you'd still be locked up in the asylum with your coke bottles and your clipboard."

The bubbly blonde who was perched so cutely on his torso would start to sit up, removing her kissable lips from that close contact of his throat and ear. She dug herself up, teasing him as breasts pushed and dragged down him, she was starting to sit up. Exposing the red nightie she was wearing. Bringing those arms closer together she'd mash those assets together. A pout graced those lips, eyes cast downward, and blonde hair, which was parted on either side into pigtails hid the sides of her face. She looked to be focusing on her hands that unbeknowist to him where becoming extremely busy. She looked like she was thinking about something very important something almost critical. It wasn't until those baby blues locked onto him, that it seemed to be revealed that she was acting, that deep in thought face soon gave way to her own jovial giddy one. "Oh. Puddin', has anyone ever told ya..." She stopped for a second as she pushed aside the buttons she had been undoing moments before and exposed that pale skin of his to the cold climate of his lair. She leaned forward, letting the material of her night just barely graze against his belly as she once again returned to his ear. "You talk toooo much." A small bite was delivered to let that lobe to serve a punctuation to her statement.

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a/n; click on it to make it look bigger and what not.

story line based.

comments are love!

Description
Inner turmoil was battering it's way through him. Listening to her explanation, he felt the pangs of regret and didn't know exactly how to react. She had only been doing what he had wanted her to do all along. Give into the first thought she had. Don't question things. Live life the way it's meant to be, at utter and blissful absences of planning. Pudding. He'd never admit how much he enjoyed being cooed and coddled by one woman, masking it behind the facade of the thrill killer he was. This was his Harley. His toy. How awful and dreary his life had become without that playmate. Fingers eased, loosening the grasp of that woman's hair and allowing her freedom. His words found themselves talking privately to her, just like they had always been when they were in the asylum, in mixed company. When he talked to Harley, he centered all his warped and deranged attention upon the blonde. "You never apologize to me about the way I made you Harley. If I didn't like what I did to you, you'd still be locked up in the asylum with your coke bottles and your clipboard."

The bubbly blonde who was perched so cutely on his torso would start to sit up, removing her kissable lips from that close contact of his throat and ear. She dug herself up, teasing him as breasts pushed and dragged down him, she was starting to sit up. Exposing the red nightie she was wearing. Bringing those arms closer together she'd mash those assets together. A pout graced those lips, eyes cast downward, and blonde hair, which was parted on either side into pigtails hid the sides of her face. She looked to be focusing on her hands that unbeknowist to him where becoming extremely busy. She looked like she was thinking about something very important something almost critical. It wasn't until those baby blues locked onto him, that it seemed to be revealed that she was acting, that deep in thought face soon gave way to her own jovial giddy one. "Oh. Puddin', has anyone ever told ya..." She stopped for a second as she pushed aside the buttons she had been undoing moments before and exposed that pale skin of his to the cold climate of his lair. She leaned forward, letting the material of her night just barely graze against his belly as she once again returned to his ear. "You talk toooo much." A small bite was delivered to let that lobe to serve a punctuation to her statement.

---

a/n; click on it to make it look bigger and what not.

story line based.

comments are love!