Tattoos, body chains, and dark lipstick.
Ina and Amé are two women who rewrite the game.
Follow them into their never ending world.
Written by Ina Seele and Amé Fengári
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"I'm wet," she said, and she couldn't think of any other better compliment but that one as she held him by his tie.
"You look the part as well," he smirked. "I've been jet lagged for three weeks and I've been hard for another four."
"Liar," But when she went to check, he wasn't lying. It was their fifth date over three weeks, and he's been traveling from Washington to New York, and he wasn't lying. "Okay you're not lying," she whispered.
"C'mon," he winked at her and she took his hand and followed him, falling a little behind due to the heels, but he was patient and careful, leading her to the easier way. And when they came across a chunk of snow, he picked her up and carried her to the door.
"This isn't how you arrive places Ivaan put me down– put me down you psychopath!" She yelled, but she couldn't even hear herself through her laugh.
"I have to show off the slit at the side of your dress."
"My ass will show," she whispered, even tho it was an exaggeration, her ass was finely covered.
"You do have a fine ass," and she hid her face at the crook of his neck when he walked in. Ina has only been to that restaurant once, for her mother's birthday, and she hadn't come back because of budgeting and pricing. But she loved the food, and Amé snitched, and now here they were, surrounded by a bunch of snotty rich people.
She looked around once she had sat, and indeed there were many grumpy faces looking their way. Ina could care less. Normally she would've been embarrassed, but looking at him, and she wanted to parkour her way to the kitchen.
"I don't belong here," she giggled, and he knelt between her legs, removing the scarf around her neck.
"In my opinion, you deserve higher quality of course but, we're doing this by your choice."
"Oh shut up," she laughed, gathering attention like a moth to a light. "I heard that on fifth dates people kiss."
"I thought we'd wait," he smiled up at her.
"Did we say that?" She whispered. "I can't remember..." and her voice became a whisper when she leaned down, her hands around his neck, and like automatic response, his eyes looked to her full lips and his hands caressed her thighs. "What about sex?"
"That was," he swallowed hard, "a tenth date."
"Do we really want to wait that long?" She frowned, and her lips were a centimeter away, away from his jawline, and his hand desperately pulled her closer.
"Idina–"
"Hello!" She said and leaned back, smiling at somebody else. Ivaan stood up and turned around.
"Hello, my name is Cyprus and I'll be your waitress tonight. Can I take the order of the lovely couple?" The waiter said, with a pad and pen in hand. "Or your drinks?"
