Jack pauses in his eating and frowns. "I go days without eating sometimes if there isn't enough food for everyone." It was a weird obligation that he fell into because of his position.
The movement of the other man keeps the melancholy at bay. He does grin at the completely exposed body. He is attractive and Jack isn't about to hide it.
"You're much too far away." Jack stands and unties his shirt, letting gravity pull the light silk off his shoulders. His body is a mess of scars. Most notably the old bullet scars in his left shoulder. He has no idea where they came from or how they happened. There are various others on his shoulders, abdomen and back; cuts, burn scars, and some that are just not clear what made them. He's not shy about what he looks like.
Deftly he lifts each foot to unzip the sides of his boots. He steps out of them and loses a few inches but he's still over six foot tall. Then he slows down. The sides of the pants he zips each side down, holding them up so nothing is revealed. Jack knows this game and enjoys it.
Another step forward and he lets go of the pants, stepping out of them without missing a step in his forward saunter. True to his word Jack has no underwear but he does have a very elaborate lace garter, black and decked in white rhinestones as well as thigh high stockings black and lighter black checkered with red lace tops. And there's no doubt that he's got it where it counts. He's more than just well endowed by most standards.
"Should I come sit with you or go back to my own chair?" The words come out sweet as honey, inviting and sensual. He's only a few paces from where Balthazar is sitting, hands sassily on his hips in nothing but his stockings, scarf, and eye patch.
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ninetydegrees
no subject
on 2020-09-27 08:55 pm (UTC)The movement of the other man keeps the melancholy at bay. He does grin at the completely exposed body. He is attractive and Jack isn't about to hide it.
"You're much too far away." Jack stands and unties his shirt, letting gravity pull the light silk off his shoulders. His body is a mess of scars. Most notably the old bullet scars in his left shoulder. He has no idea where they came from or how they happened. There are various others on his shoulders, abdomen and back; cuts, burn scars, and some that are just not clear what made them. He's not shy about what he looks like.
Deftly he lifts each foot to unzip the sides of his boots. He steps out of them and loses a few inches but he's still over six foot tall. Then he slows down. The sides of the pants he zips each side down, holding them up so nothing is revealed. Jack knows this game and enjoys it.
Another step forward and he lets go of the pants, stepping out of them without missing a step in his forward saunter. True to his word Jack has no underwear but he does have a very elaborate lace garter, black and decked in white rhinestones as well as thigh high stockings black and lighter black checkered with red lace tops. And there's no doubt that he's got it where it counts. He's more than just well endowed by most standards.
"Should I come sit with you or go back to my own chair?" The words come out sweet as honey, inviting and sensual. He's only a few paces from where Balthazar is sitting, hands sassily on his hips in nothing but his stockings, scarf, and eye patch.