<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong><span class="bbc_u">On the Rocks</span></strong></span></div><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/siPDgO7.jpg)</div><strong>NAME:</strong>Albion<br/><strong>DAY:</strong>April 14th, 2021, 9 PM~<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Albion's Flat<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Nerissa<br/><strong>EXTRA:</strong>Enjoying a most sexy dance<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong>As pictured, partially loose, minus tie<br/><br/><hr/><br/>"Truth be told? They're probably the most obvious thing I can focus on in regards to you without straining my impaired vision, hmhmhm... They're like devilish little lights that move with entrancing delight. It's a shame I can enjoy every inch of you by sight alone, but... Weeell, given how good you've been to me tonight, I can't complain..." Albion gave a sheepish grin and a shrug, trying his hardest to wiggle his wrist and tug free, to help confirm to the woman he truly was going nowhere. No doubt she bound hi. So she could get through her dance routine without getting interrupted, and surely not for any other reason.<br/><br/>"Mmm... It's scary when you talk to me like that, you... Remind me of her." He spoke softly, feeling a sense of familiarity that called back to Nerissa... But he blinked and tried not to focus on that thought. He knew if he did, everything this woman did... It would feel as if Nerissa did them, and if that happened... He knew his heart would be in chaos. If it was just a random woman it was strictly business, she would be gone by morning, but her? There would be no explaining... No way to convince himself there wasn't even the slightest bit of interest in her.<em>'Why do you torture me like this? She shouldn't... Be with...'</em><br/><br/>No, this was no time for such thoughts, his company was dancing now! He shook his head gently to focus on her, and only on her, his toes curling as his clouded vision tried to focus on her. The pressure from her hips was the keenest thing he could feel  that warmth brushing all around his lap in one of the best private lapdances he'd ever been given. He could make out her hand allowing her fingertips to wander her form, highlighting her curves and the cloth she wore. The best part was watching her shirt come free, flying carelessly upon his floor and ensuring his heart rate would not decrease for the foreseeable future.<br/><br/>However, as soon as she started, she rose to a stand on his bed, a soft gasp leaving his lips as her sudden shift gave one last stroke to his groin before leaving him to the mercy of sense without form, a lack of touch to give him the excitement he craved. However, she commanded his eyes without fail, trained to watch her shimmy and wiggle upon the form, only moving when the cloth descended her legs in realization she had loosed that skirt... Which was as unceremoniously discarded as her former top. The revelation that she was now in shear undergarments was an even more exciting prospect for the pallid male, who felt the warmth of blood rolling through his body and causing his form to heat gently just by observation.<br/><br/>"I couldn't even begin to tell you just how magical that dance is..." He mumbled gently, giving a gentle laugh as her hanging hair brushed his face, resisting the urge to gently nip at it before it was pulled away. However, it distracted him suitably from the briefest moments of a footjob the woman gave him, truly a first in his lifetime. "Hhhoohh..." He shivered and tilted his head up in excitement, but the moment was fleeting, and no sooner she begun did she stop the treatment, ensuring she would not let him do anything unsightly in that manner.<br/><br/>She turned soon after, facing him once more as his eyes widened again, her leg near to his head as she begun to roll and grind against the air. Ever so slowly her hips encroached, giving him a better view of the woman as she closed in. Her scent permeated the air, becoming more noticeable the closer she moved, until even to his drunken gaze could he tell she was truly wet beneath her clothes. Whether he caused it before, or this happened after she started dancing... He could not guess. In the moments following this, that pleasurable pressure landed upon him once more, bringing sweet relief to a body in need of warmth. It was torture, but also passionate, how she could perform such movements, such gestures while avoiding letting him commend her physically for any of them.<br/><br/>"Want it...? No sweetheart...<em>I need it...</em>" His eyes narrowed gently as he looked up into her eyes, panting softly as the woman could feel the need that bled off his form.