<div class="bbImageWrapper bbImageAligned--left js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/1629519142402-jpeg.92657/" title="1629519142402.jpeg">
<img alt="1629519142402.jpeg" class="bbImage lazyload" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/1629519142402-jpeg.92657/" data-url="" data-zoom-target="1" height="600" src="data:image/svg+xml;charset=utf-8,%3Csvg xmlns%3D'http%3A%2F%2Fwww.w3.org%2F2000%2Fsvg' width='471' height='600' viewBox%3D'0 0 471 600'%2F%3E" style="height: 200px; width: auto" title="1629519142402.jpeg" width="471"/>
<noscript><img alt="1629519142402.jpeg" class="bbImage" data-url="" data-zoom-target="1" height="600" src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/1629519142402-jpeg.92657/" style="height: 200px; width: auto" title="1629519142402.jpeg" width="471"/></noscript>
</div>Name: Oshiro Yami<br/>Age: 27<br/>Date/Time: Sat July 31<br/>Location: Villa - on the couch<br/>Wearing:[see picture]<br/>Tagging:<a class="username" data-user-id="6055" data-username="Dragongoddess" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/6055/">Dragongoddess</a><br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/>Yami hummed with a nod as he heard her name. “Ember,” he repeated it in a low, smooth voice. He liked it. Just an ember can emblazon into a fiery heat of passion, or smolder slowly for a deeper warmth. Either way, his curiosity only rose, wanting to learn which way she went when stoked by the right person, with the right poker.<br/><br/>Nevertheless, he didn’t move, listening instead to her list of names for everybody. He followed her gaze everywhere it went as she pointed each person out. In truth, he was amused. Not because he thought the names were clever, but, “you’re right, those names suck.” He snorted before taking another swig of his alcohol. “Although, I do quite like the idea of Sandman. Gives me a thought for a song.” He looked up, thinking about the lyrics already. “Oh, and for the record, you are partially right in your assessment. Vain, narcissistic, rich? I can’t deny it. I am. But I’m, oh so much more than that.” He quirked an eyebrow at her and gave her his usual alluring wolfish smirk.<br/><br/>“And I do enjoy spending most of my time with most women in bed….also most men….and most of anybody in between who’s willing, and daring, to try me.” He winked, further driving home exactly how much action his sheets back home have seen, and how much experience he possesses. “Truthfully, only half the time it’s in bed.” He leaned in just a bit closer, and closer, his eyes never leaving hers as he stared with all his lewd desires clear in them, silently letting her know that she was very much the woman that “caught his eye” tonight. “I’ve enjoyed spending time intimately with others anywhere that was desired, convenient, exciting, dangerous. Whatever the situation called for. I’m<i>flexible</i>.” He winked, “are you?” He asked, meaning for the double entendre to come across as it was meant to be.<br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/><div class="bbImageWrapper bbImageAligned--left js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/1629519156518-jpeg.92658/" title="1629519156518.jpeg">
<img alt="1629519156518.jpeg" class="bbImage lazyload" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/1629519156518-jpeg.92658/" data-url="" data-zoom-target="1" height="600" src="data:image/svg+xml;charset=utf-8,%3Csvg xmlns%3D'http%3A%2F%2Fwww.w3.org%2F2000%2Fsvg' width='475' height='600' viewBox%3D'0 0 475 600'%2F%3E" style="height: 200px; width: auto" title="1629519156518.jpeg" width="475"/>
<noscript><img alt="1629519156518.jpeg" class="bbImage" data-url="" data-zoom-target="1" height="600" src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/1629519156518-jpeg.92658/" style="height: 200px; width: auto" title="1629519156518.jpeg" width="475"/></noscript>
</div>Name: Hayley Carter<br/>Age: 24<br/>Date/Time: Sat July 31<br/>Location: Villa - at the bar<br/>Wearing: [see picture]<br/>Tagging:<a class="username" data-user-id="133" data-username="Clint Johnson" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/133/">Clint Johnson</a><br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/>Hayley couldn’t help but smirk at Sterling’s sweet response to her suggestion. It was so innocent, but knew it an act considering what was about to happen next.<br/><br/>She nearly jumped in surprise at how quickly he attacked her chest. She almost gasped and lost all of the liquor from her mouth, especially as he took his time, kissing a biting her skin all the way up to her mouth. A groan would sound from the back of her throat, coming out as more of a hum with her lips fastened as tightly closed as possible. Thankfully, it didn’t last for much longer as Sterling reached those lips, and drank every drop that didn’t seep out and down their chins once they connected once more.<br/><br/>As their tongues tangoed again, Hayley almost didn’t want to let him go from the kiss. She was tempted to just reach down her chest and toss the lime to the floor and enjoy the tequila flavored mouth she explored with fervor and urgency. But, she didn’t. Instead, her hand went back to his pants, letting her palm find the bulge again, wanting to feel what was in store for her sooner or later, excitement running chills down her spine.<br/><br/>She was drunk. There was no way around it. When he buried his face in her chest, she let out a giggle and another moan, chewing on her bottom lip. His large strong hands on her chest enveloped her in a new warmth ontop of the alcohol-induced heat that had already spread throughout her body. She was in no way shape or form small chested, but rather quite the opposite, so to find somebody who could hold her relatively easily and almost entirely was just yet another tick in a long list of boxes for somebody like her.<br/><br/>When he lifted his gaze to meet hers, her own eyes mirroring the lust in his, she leaned forward and grabbed the peel of the lime with her teeth and pulled it away. Then, she let it fall down in front of her to the floor, leaning forward again until her face was less than an inch away. Her breath was heavy and hot brushing against his lips, but she didn’t close the distance all the way. Instead she whispered, “let’s hit the showers.” She grinned, using the American idiom typically used to signify the end of whatever activity or sport, but for them, it would only mean the beginning.