Paresthesia Pt. 10

"We can keep her," she sighs, "Remember when I was worried something would happen? I shouldn't have been. Cause something is happening now and it's amazing."

"After her, who else is there," I grunt. I am moving again, working the rhythm back to something a bit more energetic. Having her mouth and tongue preoccupied certainly helps her maintain a level of focus over her general body. She's a good multitasker. I can't wait to find out how her mouth feels.

"I don't know. Could always see what's going on somewhere else. Just cut a swath through the entire country. They'd probably write articles about us."

Hannah giggles again, but it turns into a low rumbling moan. She collapses a bit, coming to my shoulders for support. Don't know why. I'm not at my most stable right now either.

"She's so good at this," she moans, "How is she so good at this?"

"She's good at everything," I say, "If only you could be down here. Everything time you compliment her, she does this wonderful little tight and squeeze on her hips."

"Every time you thrust, she digs her hands in more."

I find Hannah through the motion and the pleasure. She is collapsing into me and I am leaning into her. Her lips are there on mine, and the cycle of motion is finally complete. A never-ending cycle. I start some of the pushes and the pulses, but not all. Hannah has hers. Sylvia has hers. But it all collects together into the crashing waves we pull from one another.

Hannah tightens again and her first releases shoots down Sylvia's throat. I am not far behind. It's enviable, maybe not quite synched as it should be, but close enough. And close enough is good enough. And judging from the spray against my stomach, Sylvia didn't even bother to announce hers.

I pull out and it was terrible, but a few more seconds gliding against her has me over the edge in long thick pulses, draping over her body. Most of it lands on her chest, like it should, like it always should. She moans and I feel it in my core. Through the clenched jaw and scrunched eyes, Hannah watches me paint her with my shots. More of rut, but never enough, something pulled from my depths, wasted on aesthetic sensibilities. But it is beautiful. Even more so when Hannah angles me up so I can do her as well.

Both of them have me dripping from them, reaching up Hannah's stomach. I was not able to surmount Sylvia's breasts, but I did a good enough job to slump back against the arm rest satisfied and pleased with myself. They are both claimed and owned, while I am marked the same.

Hannah settles into a deep giggle that rumbles through us all. It takes me a moment to realize why. Sylvia is set to clean her up and the tongue must tickle. She gets a hand running through her hair while she attends to Hannah. She also gets more murmurs of praise and adoration, lots of 'good girl's and 'that feels so nice' and so many other words to convey whatever positivity she needs. When it is my turn and I receive wide eyes and pleading looks to say the same things, touch her in the same way. And she gets them. She gets them and she melts as Hannah cleans her. Granted, I think we'll take a shower later to actually do the job, but that's later. I don't really care about all that right now.

---

I don't care about much of anything right now. I have a hand to hold and a nice day to walk through. Even the cement seems softer now, although that actually seems a bit to be worried about. Concrete and most civic materials should have some amount of sturdiness to them. Seems like that would be a good use of my tax dollars.

But Hannah is holding my hand and leaning into my shoulder, pulling me along slowly. Both of us are still getting our legs back from last night. Both of us have nowhere to be in particular. Probably a lazy day at home and an early night. We've both been working hard for the past little while and we need our strength for what's coming next. I can just make out one of the spires on the Hall through the gaps when we turn a corner. Fortunately, we're headed away from that particular architectural eyesore. We have a subway station to hit.

I look to her and kiss her forehead. She likes that and squeezes my hand. I squeeze back and we keep walking, not a care in the world.

"Ah, son of a bitch," cries a gruff gravel voice from behind me. And something tries to knock me over. It doesn't but it makes a very fine effort. Points all around.

"Stupid jackass dog," says the same gravel. I disagree. The dog is big and shaggy and a little smelly, but those are all around the best ones. And it's trying to lick my face. That's kind of unwelcome, but it's still nice. The best worst kind of affection when out on the street.

"Darby! Darby, get down! Hey, what?"

The gravel finally has a voice and Hannah is hugging said voice very tight.

"Hey Hugh," I manage to get through the dog tongue. Seems to have some Doberman in him, but the disposition is Lab through and through.

An old man in his slippers, in his robe, in his comfy fuzzy pants, not in his shirt still tired from getting up and getting moving stands on the sidewalk snapped leash in hand. And there is Hannah breaking from him. Tired muscle, defined, but sagging, crossed with faded tattoos of skulls and bones and all sorts of dark things. It takes him a moment to parse the whole scene, but that's the mind going senile for you. But he gets there. He gets there in a broad smile and refuses to break the hug. HE picks up Hannah and squeezes her tight. I manage to push the dog down and at least make him stop jumping.

"Morning, guys," he growls. Years of smoking and theater projection will do that to anyone. At least he's quit. Now I if I could just get every old guy I know to do that, I'd be happy.

"Sorry about him. He's getting better, I swear. Used to be he'd actually try and knock people down."

"Dude, its fine," I say. The dog's still looking at me with a wagging tail.

"My wife thinks it's cute. I think it's rude. Anyway, what brings you two around? Thought you'd be over by the river in your new digs."

"Had to patch up Violence after last night. The glass tore her up something fierce," Hannah says as she finally finds the floor again. It's an odd thing to see a man his size look sheepish, but he manages. The half rim spectacles do a good job in helping.

"Yeah, that was a bit much. Didn't think she could take the bump. Is she alright?"

"Oh, she's fine. She needs to learn to roll with it."

"Still. Went too hard. But two on one and I didn't have the Guards with me. Figured I could take it a bit more. She sold it well at least."

He shrugs and drags beautiful Darby back to heel beside him. Good dog. He gets ear scritches and loves them.

"Glad to see you doing well, Hannah. I know your last day was kind of rough, but you seem to be a natural at the heel bit."

Hannah smiles and I think she even blushes a bit.

"I am. I really am. Part of that is his fault. He's a bad influence. But it's real nice over here. You should come."

"Can't have too many turns at once. Gets real confusing real fast. And someone's gotta keep Will in check. Kid just does not get it. Kieran's got her hands full in Admin, and Ken's got enough to deal with actually doing the face stuff. That jackass is shaping up just like Tom, really. Did I ever tell you the merch story?"

"You did, but go ahead," I said, "I figured that was settled, but I didn't see any of your stuff at the gift shop."

"Cause it keeps selling out, that's why. I can get you something if you want. But it proves me right. Tom wanted the damn Deadman rights. Said it was a good show of team building if it's managed by the suits. He meant his suits. And that's the money right there. Pay's always terrible, but if you get the merch rights, sky's the limit. Big fight real big fight to the point where we were ready to actually hit each other, I threatened to just walk and head down to Austin, or even go full free agent. He did not like that. But I got the rights to the merch and my own house instead of those damn apartments he was pushing for."

"Part of why I left," Hannah says, "Small part, but the day at the art museum, I had a big fight with marketing. Figured if I was actually going to go out as Blast Hole, anything with that name on it needs to go into my pocket."

"And I told you Evan, to push when you were switching to be Adagio. God that was stupid. Stay with Minuteman. Change up the costume, sure, but keep the damn name. Idiot. Goddamn idiot. That Metronome thing was pretty alright. You could sell that. But Adagio, ugh. And now I've wasted your time with old man ramblings. Wife's going think I fell down a manhole or something. We should catch up sometime. Roulette or maybe Torogoz, soon. Heard good things about there. Maybe bring Will down and see if that loosens him up. But catch you guys later. And if you need anything, call me. I'm always around."

The old man waves and shuffles along, unfortunately taking his dog with him. It's always fun to get him rambling. Soothing voice in an old smoke-stained whiskey glass way. But Hannah's hand finds mine again and there is still the subway to catch.

My phone buzzes once the train starts rattling down under the river and it seems we're not quite done doing bad guy things.

"round table, please," says Alizarin.

"^^^," says Violence, "tonight. not now."