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Post by Chørd on Apr 25, 2012 15:45:14 GMT -5
`Matthew He was glad that she'd stood up to follow him. At least he wouldn't look a fool walking off, expecting her to be trailing along behind him, only to find she'd decided she fancied staying put. He noticed the faces the older women were pulling at her as she brushed herself off, and he couldn't help but smirk. She seemed to be roundly ignoring their repulsed looks, though, which wasn't much fun. He'd been hoping she'd at least respond to their scorn with an indignant glare or something of the sort, but no. She was treating them with the contempt they deserved, he supposed.
Matthew raised an eyebrow at her curtsy, but didn't say anything. Once it appeared she had packed up the few things she had with her he turned and started heading back towards his tent, sucking on his teeth agitatedly. Were officers meant to make small talk with their inferiors? Or were they supposed to limit the communications to orders, questions and side remarks?
"So, what's your name?" Sod it. He didn't particularly care what her name was, and she probably didn't give a damn about his, but the ice needed to break somehow and introductions seemed like a decent enough way to start. At least he'd have some other way of getting her attention now, other than clicking his fingers, clearing his throat, or standing obstinately in front of her until she decided to notice him.
They reached his tent and he held back the canvas flap for her to let her in, scuffing out the remaining embers of the small campfire outside with the toe of his boot as he did so. "After you," he smiled at her pleasantly. Inside the tent was scantly furnished but, for now, he was sharing with no other subaltern. That was a small relief in itself - at least that way hardly anyone questioned or cared about who he invited inside and when.
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Post by Bog on Apr 28, 2012 15:55:16 GMT -5
Well. Maybe playing at deference wasn't the way to go with this one. No matter. Hannah could be as deferential or as flippant as she felt the situation merited and she reckoned a bit of sauciness would probably go over better. At least with this boy, and no more than necessary. She had overdone it in the past with the wrong men and had earned herself some bruises for it.
"Hannah," she answered simply. That was all he'd need in order to find her, or have her found, in future. "Why thankee, sir," she added and passed into the tent with a swish of skirts.
As far as living spaces went, it was nothing special, but the fact that it was a tent automatically meant it was a cut above her usual accommodations. Then again, spending nights beneath wagons was nothing to boast about. She could hardly complain about having a canvas roof over her head, even if it was only for one night.
"St James, is it?" Hannah asked, unable to help herself.
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Post by Chørd on Apr 28, 2012 17:15:08 GMT -5
`Matthew Hannah. He made a mental note to remember her name in the unlikely event that he did fancy finding her again, should she happen to be a cut above the other girls available. He doubted she would be, though. They were all the same when it came down to it.
He smirked as she disappeared into the tent and followed her inside, watching her closely as he shrugged off his coat and draped it over the back of a lone chair. He grinned broadly at her comment, shaking his head.
"Not quite," he answered, unbuttoning his waistcoat, though he kept it on for the time being. He crossed the tent to perch on his bed, kicking off his boots unceremoniously as he sat down, then leant over to open the chest which contained the majority of his smaller belongings.
"Do you drink?" He asked, knowing full well that she - amongst the majority of other people - probably did. He found a bottle of some sort liquid and frowned at it as he held it up. "I haven't a clue what this is, but it'll suffice."
He set the bottle aside and got to his feet again, loosening his cravat as he did so.
"My apologies if I caused you offense earlier," he started, not looking at her as he found a glass and began pouring out the alcohol, which proved to be port, for himself. "It was improper of me to snap at you like I did. I should have known your speech would leave something to be desired, being the gutter rat that you are." He smiled at her to show he meant it as a joke, though if she decided to take it to heart and get in a huff about it, that was not his problem.
He poured out another glass and held it out to her. "It's good port, so don't waste it or down it in one." He didn't know, nor particularly care, if she even liked the offered beverage, but he expected her to have the courtesy to accept it nevertheless.
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Post by Bog on May 13, 2012 12:00:33 GMT -5
Did she drink. Really. "A bit, mebbe," Hannah replied, a trifle coyly. She chose to ignore, for the moment, his apology. There wasn't really a call for it in her view but she supposed he was one of those who felt guilty about needing to engage the services of somebody like her. Or he was simply an uppity prat. It didn't matter so long as he paid her, which he had.
"Port, eh? This is St James an' all." She smirked and lifted the glass to her lips. Her usual tastes were a far sight simpler than this, but she was prepared to indulge the boy. Anyway, who was she to turn down a free drink?
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Post by Chørd on May 14, 2012 14:04:14 GMT -5
`Matthew Both of his eyebrows raised at her comment about the port. St James. Was she convinced everything was St James? He shot her a bemused look before shaking his head and taking his own glass of port, swirling the drink around before sipping it lightly and setting it back down.
He sat on his bed again, putting his feet up and resting his back lightly on the canvas wall behind, taking back his glass and gazing blankly at the golden-brown alcohol in it.
"So, where are you from?" He tore his eyes off of his drink to stare at her. "You sound like you're from London." He laughed lightly to himself. "But then again, everyone of the lower class sounds as if they're from London to me, so I suppose my assumptions count for nothing."
He cleared his throat agitatedly before patting the bed beside him. There was enough from for her to sit, too, and it seemed everything would flow a bit better if they were at least sat together, as opposed to her stood in the middle of the tent on her lonesome, looking out of place.
"You don't need to stand, you know," he frowned, shuffling backwards to get in a more comfortable position. He didn't know if she was the sort to take control of the series of events in favour of just letting the man lie there and enjoy it, or whether she was more the type to just lie back and let the man do as he pleased. Either way didn't bother him - so long as he got his money's worth.
He finished his port and set the glass aside, then shrugged off his waistcoat, dumping that on the ground with the same amount of disregard he had given to his other items of clothing. He turned back to her, watching her expectantly as he waited for her to finish her drink and follow suit.
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Post by Bog on May 27, 2012 8:15:31 GMT -5
Where was she from? The most obvious answer came to her tongue but died there, for he answered his own question. Sort of. She was a proper Londoner, all right. Even if this cods head was content to assume everyone like her must be London-born if they didn't talk fancy like him.
"Ol' Nichol's me 'ome patch," Hannah answered. She sipped at the port and added slyly, "An' yer fr'm the monkery, I'll reckon. Most coves is, what don't 'ave the cant."
Then, simply because he had cautioned her not to waste the drink, she tipped the glass to her lips and drank it dry in one go. It was a bit much to take in a single draught but she swallowed it down. Her previous thought that it was a free drink was gone. There was a price for being given it and she was paying it, with the burning down her throat.
"A sittin', then?" Judging by his preparations, he was keen to get on with things. Hannah shrugged and glided toward the cot, setting her empty glass on the same table he'd put his on. "So what's yer fancy, cully?"
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Post by Chørd on May 28, 2012 13:00:08 GMT -5
`Matthew He nodded when she said she came from Old Nichol, despite his ignorance of where exactly the place was. Some poor part of London, no doubt, as he'd presumed. The city had been frequented by Matthew and his family when he was younger, and he and his friends had run riot in the upper-class parts of the Capital. The poorer slums they'd steered clear of, however, deeming it not their place to rove amongst thieves, beggars and other such criminals.
"Reading," he nodded with a smile, confirming her guess. "A wonderful place. My father owned a bit of land there. Bred horses and the like."
He hadn't failed to notice the slight insolent tone to her voice that came with her comment, and when she downed the rest of her drink with a single tip of her glass his smile faded. So she was going to be like that was she? Subtly going against his wishes, or responding to whatever he said with some form of sarcastic or haughty remark? Well, he only hoped the alcohol burned her on the way down, the impudent little maid. Joking and teasing was a one thing, but he didn't like arrogance, impudence or mockery. Least of all from lower-class scum.
He raised an eyebrow at her when she approached his cot bed and asked in that God-awful accent of hers what his fancy was. Well, for one thing, he was starting to think it was time to put her mouth to better use, lest he snap at her again for her pronounciation of things.
She wanted to be cheeky did she? All the more amusing for him. He was quite content to make her time with him as difficult as possible.
He lay back on the bed with his hands behind his head, one leg crossed over the other. "Surprise me," he smirked. No doubt others would deem it childish of him to want to wind her up so, but it seemed as if she had the same intention for him. Or maybe it was just in her personality to be snarky with officers, or push her luck with people who were trying to be somewhat hospitable to her.
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Post by Bog on Jun 3, 2012 8:25:26 GMT -5
In truth, she didn't care a whit where he was from, and regretted that she'd asked. Not that it mattered now. The real challenge had been laid down. Surprise me. Oh but he had no idea, did he?
"Arrigh' then," Hannah said with a coy smile. She would have to do all the work here, without a doubt, but what more could be expected of a hob nail? Still. She was being paid and thus had to deliver. She sat lightly on the edge of the cot with a rustle of skirts and reached at once for the fall of his breeches, taking care to skim her fingertips over the fabric. Surprise me, he'd said. Fair enough.
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Post by Chørd on Jun 3, 2012 9:17:11 GMT -5
`Matthew He wondered how exactly she'd interpret his request, given that 'surprise me' was about as vague as a command could get. Whatever she did though, he was intent on chastising her for it, just to make life that little bit more difficult for her. With any luck she'd wind up very frustrated, which would just add to his merriment. Good. It'd teach her a lesson in manners. She'd know in the future that if you held an attitude around your betters, you'd have a lot of hassle on your hands as a consequence.
His arrogant smirk remained as she perched on the bed, his eyes never once leaving her. As she reached for the front of his breeches, her fingers brushing fleetingly against the fabric, he grabbed her hand and pulled it away.
"A tad eager, don't you think?" He teased, trying and failing to fake a scowl. He let her hand go again, shuffling backwards slightly until he was sat up rather than half-lying down.
"Whores always do rush things," he sighed in mock exasperation, putting emphasis on the first word. He took the bottle of port on the table beside him, and his glass, and poured himself out another drink, this time not bothering to offer her one. He took a quick sip then, setting the glass aside again, he indicated with a nod for her to continue, clearly enjoying this little guessing game he'd set up for her.
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Post by Bog on Jun 3, 2012 20:45:04 GMT -5
So it was to be like that, was it? Hannah plastered a surprised expression on her face and waited until the boy-officer had refilled his glass.
"Can't 'ave it bowff ways, cully," she teased. "S'surprise ya or it's not, innit?" And she rather thought he'd prefer things to move along, even if she wasn't about to say as much. At least not aloud. Her hand skimmed back over the front of his breeches, then lingered there. She knew very well that men would protest in this and similar ways, when they were of an entirely different mind. Particularly if they felt they were not in charge of the encounter.
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Post by Chørd on Jun 4, 2012 1:44:37 GMT -5
`Matthew It wasn't fair. She was meant to play along, or at least get angry with him for being so difficult. But no, she kept her cool and teased him right back. Though to him, it felt more like she was mocking him, which he made clear that he didn't like by fixing her with a furious glare.
"You don't have to jump right in to surprise someone," he answered pragmatically, staring down at her condescendingly. "Besides, I'd rather you didn't start off on that note."
As she returned her hand to the front of his breeches, and kept it there, he remained silent. It was just plain insolence. It was unfortunate enough that he'd already paid her, else he could have used her fee as a blackmailing item. He could feel the balance of control of the situation swaying to her side, which he most definitely didn't like.
Still, there was no point in protesting. In all honesty her touch didn't bother him in the slightest, and past experiences had shown that giving the woman a little leeway often had positive outcomes - but it was how she wasn't taking the bait and becoming frustrated that irritated him. Maybe she was just used to extra pernickity customers. That in itself would explain why she seemed unfazed by his attempts to wind her up.
"Are you always this keen?" He raised an eyebrow at her then frowned, motioning to her with his hand.
"You're still fully clothed," he protested, eyeing her up as if he'd only just noticed she was wearing clothes. His own garments, all bar his shirt, breeches and stockings which he was still wearing, had been discarded on the floor, and as of yet none of her items had joined them. That was hardly fair.
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Post by Bog on Jun 15, 2012 17:56:15 GMT -5
So he didn't necessarily like surprises, yet he expressed an interest in being surprise. Well. The ambiguity there was something Hannah reckoned she could work with.
" 'Pends," she replied airily, privately amused at his frown. "Aye, so I is. No sense in spoilin' everyfin' all at onct, sir."
Though the truth was more that she hardly needed to disrobe for what she had in mind for him. At least initially. She permitted herself a smile and pressed a hand flat against his shoulder. "Whyn't ya lie back, like, an' leave be?"
This was going to be fun. Giving this upstart a lesson in the world would be something of a treat.
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Post by Chørd on Jun 16, 2012 18:08:20 GMT -5
`Matthew A look of bemusement was plastered on his face as he regarded her, unsure whether to be angry, confused, or to laugh at her. She seemed to be on some sort of mission to have everything go her way, since nothing he said seemed to deter her in the slightest from whatever she had planned in that little mind of hers.
"Oh, you needn't worry about spoiling things. Just a little show of skin can do no harm," he shot her a despairing look, contemplating whether or not he should reach up and attempt to remove an item of her clothing himself. The way things were headed, he had a feeling she'd still be fully dressed even when it got down to business of things. And skirts were such horrible things to navigate around, especially during the heat of the moment.
He returned her smile lop-sidedly as she pressed a hand against his shoulder. He placed a hand over hers, holding it there firmly before lifting hers and placing it on his waist.
"Alright," he answered slowly and begrudgingly relented and lay back on the cot, fidgeting and adjusting the pillows a little to get comfortable and prop himself up better.
His hand strayed to rest in her lap, her skirts preventing him from being properly able to stroke her leg.
"How long does a tuppence buy me? Your 'longer' is rather vague, I'm afraid," he asked, continuing to run his hand along the length of her thigh, glancing up at her every so often as he did so.
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Post by Bog on Jun 25, 2012 8:03:32 GMT -5
If that was what he thought, Hannah reckoned he could stand some educating.
"S'pose it's wurf a roun' or two," she answered. Perhaps it could not hurt to slip out of her stays a bit, but she was finding it increasingly difficult to keep a bubble of laughter from breaking loose. The feathering touch of his hand going up her thigh tickled, damn it! The last thing she needed to do was cut loose a helpless giggle.
"Anyways," she went on, distracting herself by slipping out of her worn grey brocade jacket. It was no easy task with only one hand free. "I'll need me 'and fer unlacin' me stays, 'less you wants to 'elp wivvit."
Which he probably would.
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Post by Chørd on Jun 25, 2012 15:00:18 GMT -5
`Matthew He gave a small shrug at her answer. That was fair, he supposed. In fact that was downright cheap. But who was he to complain? Still. Maybe if she proved to be decent company for the evening he'd give her a few pennies on the side for her efforts - it would help to somewhat soothe his guilt in having to engage the services of someone like her, anyway.
"And for the whole night?" He pressed, putting a little more pressure behind his strokes up and down her leg. The sooner she was out of her skirts, the better.
He lay there, watching her struggling to slip out of her jacket, unable to stop the grin quickly spreading across his face.
"Do you not think it would be easier to use both hands?" He just about managed to refrain from laughing at her. As much as her being awkward was amusing, it would be rude to mock her. Even if she was common, and therefore had no call to be offended by her betters' scorn.
He shrugged again at her comment and sat up, content to help her with her laces, slowly undoing them in silence before they were finally undone and the stays were off. He looked up smiling, clearly pleased with his small accomplishment.
He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
"Can I continue to undress you, or will you protest at that?" He teased light-heartedly, running his hand up and down her back gently.
OOC: Oh, just as an early heads up; let me know when you want to fade to black/skip to the next morning/whatever.
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Post by Bog on Jun 30, 2012 20:00:48 GMT -5
It was a point in his favour that he did not need instruction in how to get around laces. Though to be sure, it was hardly a difficult task, so long as you were not the one wearing the stays.
She treated him to a nearly genuine smile when he drew her in and slipped a hand down toward the fall of his breeches. "Whyn't we do it in turns?" Far be it from her to be the only one completely disrobed - when he had all but accused her of aiming for the opposite just a moment before.
" 'Sides," Hannah added, a trifle coyly. "Me 'ands is gonna be busy an' all."
OOC - I'm thinking within the next post or two? Or maybe even here, if you like.
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Post by Chørd on Jul 1, 2012 2:52:32 GMT -5
`Matthew As her hand drifted downwards again he felt the heat rising in his cheeks, causing him to blush a little. Still, he was pleased to see a smile on her face. It was the only one she'd had for him so far that hadn't seem forced or sly. That and it made her look that much more attractive.
"Taking it in turns seems like a good plan," he agreed, pulling her even closer still so that she was almost in his lap. A sly smile spread across his face when she mentioned her hands being busy. They'd messed with each other enough now, he decided, so he was content to let her occupy herself with that while he tried to work out how on earth to get her out of her skirts.
And since her hands would be busy, he took it upon himself to remove one of his own pieces of clothing. He pulled off his stockings, tossing them aside, before returning his hands to around her waist.
"Your turn," he said, returning to stroking her back again. Hopefully she'd be able to tear herself away from toying with his breeches long enough to get out of her skirts. Laces in stays he was deft and well-practised at undoing - trying to work out how to get off those layers of skirts and petticoats was another matter. Why did women even bother to wear skirts anyway? It seemed more practical, both for them and their men, if they simply walked around in a shift all day. It perhaps wasn't exactly proper, but what did decorum matter right here and right now?
OOC: Next few posts sounds good to me. Whenever it starts heading off down that route.
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Post by Bog on Jul 18, 2012 10:24:12 GMT -5
Turns it was, then. Never mind that it was easy enough to slip out of her skirts, which action left her wearing only her shift. Then, glibly assuming he'd need assistance with his breeches, Hannah set her fingers to work on those buttons.
"I fought you was eager," she remarked, unable to resist. Or maybe he was.
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Post by Chørd on Aug 24, 2012 3:23:18 GMT -5
Matthew's smile grew into a grin as she slipped out of her skirts, leaving her in just her shift - though that would be off soon, too, if he had his way. Their clothes were strewn across the floor around them, completely disregarded, leaving hardly anything left on the pair.
He smirked as she reached for the buttons on his breeches, and allowed her to undo a couple before pulling her shift off over her head, folding it somewhat neatly, and dumping that down beside them too.
"I am," he answered back with a coy smile, gave her a quick peck on the cheek, then lay back with his hands behind his head, content to let her get on with things.
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OOC: I didn't leave it this long to reply, I swear. >.> The date on the post LIES.
And on another note, now seems like a good point to skip. If you want to do it your next post that's fine, but if not let me know and I can edit this one or something.
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Post by Bog on Sept 24, 2012 16:55:41 GMT -5
So it seemed, she thought. At least an eager fellow was better than one who simply lay there and made her do all the work. Hannah returned his smile with a flash of a grin of her own, then got down to business. With her hands now suitably busy, she reckoned it would not take long to get this boy to a state of happy satisfaction.
~
All in all, she thought shortly thereafter, this was marginally better than having an old sergeant for a client.
"I 'opes there's some o' yer port left," she drawled, only just containing a smug grin. "A bit've afters goes down nice an' all."
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