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[pikuni]

WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK

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GOOD STAB

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[kobes]

[he doesn't know -- for the better, perhaps, because if he did, he'd hate himself for this, more than the usual guilt and squirmy-shameful rush that comes (still) when he does things like this. when accident or chance collides him with someone he's never spoken a word to, and he offers up ass, mouth, cunt, offers what he has because what makes him wet, so wet, wetter than wet is --]

Being commanded.
Ordered.
Told what to do.
And doing it.

[pikuni]

That surprises me. You're usually so bossy to everyone else :-).

[observational behaviour, some of which has made him laugh to himself more than once. ]

Will you do as I say now, then?

[kobes]

[knee-jerk, almost: i am not, which in and of itself is bossy. koby swallows it down, sinks deeper into the bath he's soaking in, toes curling against the copper at the question.]

I suppose I like that it's different. When I'm not in control. It's
A relief, I guess? Comforting, maybe. I was a Marine, back home.

[then, swiftly:] Yes. I will.
If you want to say it, I'll do it.

[pikuni]

Where I’m from, Marine is Navy. Is it the same?

[ marine is, as is most things, not of his people. not a history he would claim. but still, it exists, it’s a bridge of sorts. ]

You should only do it if you want to do it.

[kobes]

Oh, sort of? It's Navy and police and government agency and
Well. A lot of things I hadn't anticipated when I enlisted.

[is talking about disillusionment with the military complex more or less sexy than laundry.]

I know. I want to.
I really, really want to.

[raw earnestness, potentially a turn off, a bleeding need to settle something anxious and snarling with someone's guidance, oversight.]

[pikuni]

[just as sexy, actually, because fuck the government - ]

Well, if you really want to.

[how far is too far; the line feels invisible, really. his dick says the line doesn't exist, but he knows this isn't true. it kicks again in his jeans, and idly he flattens his palm over the bulge, squeezing. ]

Send me another picture. I want to see how you touch yourself.

nsfw

[kobes]

[he does want to, so bad it burns out any shyness, any shame, so bad he's shoving off his pajama pants, shivering at the way the sodden front peels away slow, reluctant, the way the cool air feels on the flushed, slick, oversensitive pulse of his cunt.

the video sent is quick, silent, any shuddery breaths or sounds muffled, stifled, koby's lips bitten raw by the time he can make his hand stop, can wipe it clean on his shirt and send the clip. it's filthier than anything he's sent before, but -- nobody's asked for proof of him touching himself before either.]

like that [one-handed typing, an answer, a question, hopeful and shy at once.]