The wooden floor squeaks, a common occurrence when Luke crosses over from hall to kitchen. He is a massive individual, tall as a doorway, with broad powerful shoulders. Cracking the suctioned seal of the stainless-steel freezer door releases a chilling wave over his mostly bare body... save for what protection his Green Lantern boxers offer him. His focus guides his hand, like a claw in one of those arcade games, to grasp the homemade vanilla ice cream from within. With decadence in hand he steps to the charcoal black wooden cabinets, grabs a fittingly large bowl and sets both down on the counter.
The sound of a more delicate creature echoes from the stairs. Their stride possesses a charming skip in its rhythm until coming to rest flat at the bottom.
From the hallway, a soft rather joyfully inquisitive tone, asks. "What are you doing babe?"
A slightly mischievous grin crawls across Luke's face. Playfully, he says, "I just needed something less sweet to eat." He then proceeds to slide open the silverware drawer to fetch a spoon.
Mara waltzes into the kitchen. With sassy intent written all over her face, she replies, "Oh... would you prefer a little tart?" She too is tall, lending her elegantly long lines, obscured now by only the flimsiest of white tank tops and a pair of Superman panties.
His gaze devours every inch of her silky-smooth legs where upon reaching the arch of blue fabric sweeping up over her wide hips, he replies, "Well...I won't say no to that s-Ass."
She twists, just a little, to allow a glimpse of her taut voluptuous ass. Then she coyly gives him a devilish look with those sky-blue eyes of hers from beneath her fiery orange-red hair. It is then that he wonders, maybe gingers can steal souls... if so, she has made off with mine.
Mara steps into him, smooshing her soft supple breasts into his pecs. She allows her fingers to comb through his dirty golden blonde hair before tracing down to the diamond shape of his triceps.
He in turn tilts her chin up. Their lips meet, holding for their tongues to dance the briefest of dances, before Luke breaks away for the pantry.
A solid smack ripples through the room. That one had some sting on it, even with his boxers. Glancing over his shoulder he catches Mara suggestively biting her lip, then with a shrug she smiles and says. "What... you smell nice."
Luke reaches up to the very top shelf of the pantry, the one people hide stuff on, and retrieves a pack of mint Oreo's. Peeling back the wrapper sees a few cookies make their way into his hand before he places the pack down on the island counter. Crossing to his bowl on the side counter he crumbles the cookies, and a minty-ness fills the air. Luke proceeds to add several scoops of vanilla, enough to know why the edges of his six-pack are rounded and difficult to trace.
Then as if he was a parent who turned his back on a child, he hears the distinctive crinkle of the wrapper. "Hey!" he playfully exclaims. Followed in a more semi-series tone, "Those are my cookies! You have your own."
Spinning around she feigns innocence, then with a sultry whisper, "I could pay for it if you like." She hops up onto the island, a move that jiggles her ample pert bosom and strains the confines of the white tank she is sporting. Crossing her legs, reveals just how fair her porcelain skin is against the marble counter upon which she now sits.
"...and just how do you intend to do that?" he answers. Struggling not to reveal his desire, he leans on the counter and proceeds to eat his ice cream.
"Oh? I don't know." She responds. She twists the Oreo apart and gleefully licks the frosting, "...I'm sure you'll think of something."
Luke hesitates, and with a spoonful in hand. "Perhaps... you may have inspired a few ideas." He smiles, half smug like, before finishing the bite.
"You know, I love watching you eat ice cream... how you savor each spoonful, and you get that sensual look in those lovely green eyes of yours."
Raindrops begin their assault on the sliding glass door, adding their faint pitter-patter to the background. The sound melds with the crinkle of the Oreo wrapper as Mara retrieves another cookie.
She coyly watches Luke finish the ice cream, smiling when he pushes up off the counter. He moves to place his bowl in the sink, then shifts over to Mara. Meeting her soft lips with his, finds her arms wrapped round him. They lose a moment in one another's eyes. Glancing towards the porch, through the glass door, Luke says, "Shall we play in it?"
Without skipping a beat, she pecks him on the cheek, slips off the counter past him and heads for the door. Luke watches, transfixed by the grace of her movements, before following.
Mara opens the door, a delicate breeze nips at her skin, and the way her body reacts suggests a slight chill in the air of this rainy spring afternoon. The lingering scent of cut grass, the soothing element in the hum of the droplets, lending a sort of tranquility to the moment. Mara stretches her toes out into the rain, like one would do to test a pool. "Aah!" she yelps.
Luke moves in behind to comfort her.
Nestling into his arms, she coyly mutters, "It is cold babe." Seeking reassurance, she rolls her hips, rubbing her cheeks against the bulge beneath Green Lantern's light.
Luke's pulse rises to stir sinful intent. His hands slither up under her shirt, palming her creamy soft tits, to pinch her now attentive nipples. "I can tell," he whispers. Then with a smirk, he teasingly says, "Good thing you're so hot." as he spanks her, forcing her out into the rain.
She lets out a girly shriek, stumbles a few steps before finding her grace, and shoots a pouty look back towards the doorway.
He pauses, taking in the way the droplets fall upon her. The way they cascade down the strands of her hair to roll over the supple sensual edges of her form.
Mara shivers, she can feel the cold wet weight of her top steal the warmth of her skin, though it does nothing to temper the fire burning within her bosom.
With sad puppy dog eyes and full glistening lips, she beckons him onto the deck. He hums with each stride, "Hum... hum... hum," as he draws nearer to her.
Mara slips smoothly in beside him, framing their dance posture almost instinctively. It is clear how much more naturally at ease she is than he, though she doesn't seem to mind. Aligning their bodies, they glide into a waltz... well, as best one can when barefoot on a deck.
