LeBlanc / 10 - preparations, pt. 2

[qdesjardin]

10 – preparations, pt. 2

There are more ways to kiss someone than by mouth.

By hands, for example. Your hands are clutching his, your fingers intertwined as you feel every tension translate through his joints. Or your fingers would be running over his body, touching his skin and adoring the way he just feels under your presses, his underlying muscle and body fat and skeletal construction.

Or by body, when you're laying atop of him, sliding yourself up and down to the drive of your senses' pleasure, his chest pressing against your breasts,tum-tum-tum you'd feel your heart pumping, and you feel satisfied that you aren't just sandwiching [crushing] him against the flat floor in full embrace. You'd swallow all his shudders, cradle him tightly to you, and take an occasional break from his mouth as it suits you.

"Uahh.. hh..!" you hear him go in-between. "You're going.. too fast.. I.."

It's been a while since you've really made love with someone, so.. it is only natural you are hungrily into the act, like someone who hasn't tasted sweet Belgian chocolate in a very long time.

It is Renton's first time, doing this. When she'd guided him, gently coaxing him into her, he did not immediately recognise the sensation, a soft feeling, vaguely pressing upon him, making him stiffen especially – and even thought that he was still outside of her somewhat, until they'd begun moving.

At first, he does not feel the urging pleasure he'd usually get by himself, at his own hands. It aches for him though, and then it hits him that he should not be so hasty to rush to the end.. it's already nice, caressing her whole body.

She'd felt his ankle bracelet brush by over her leg, several times (she'd have to do something about it).

It is a claustrophobic embrace throughout, so close to each other; a beautiful contact with another person. Nobody's ever told him about this, his whole life. If he'd get light-headed from a wonderful romantic moment in a show, you could multiply the feeling ten-fold and you'd not be close to this.. expression of love.

It is so suffocating. Like most of the air he inhales is shared with her also – in the moments when her mouth is locked onto his, he'd feel her moaning from her very core, and he remembers to breathe in fresh air through his nose, as to not be overwhelmed by the suffocation.

He is feeling like in a daze.

Then the urge comes, arriving, welling up in him, like wanting to pee. A sense of inevitability. When her lips pull away from him again, he tells her, "Please.. Evaine, slow down.." I don't want this to end, ever..

But she doesn't..

He opens his eyes and sees her – as if she's gazing off somewhere past him he can't see. Now she is in a frenzy, and she is rapidly, desperately rocking back and forth by his pelvis, a tear escaping from her eyes.

"Slow down-!" Renton wants to say, but his voice is muffled in her mouth, drowned out amidst her intensifying utterances as she clutches him all the harder over his shoulders, on his cheeks. Stop.. stop.. I can't.. it's.. I'm..

going to..

His dam bursts, and all the pleasure that's mounted in him is letting out, in her, in her- he sees lights dazzling before his eyes, and a surge of adrenaline spilling out- he convulses, losing control of his limbs-

But she still continues on, far past when he is done letting it all out – and then she clenches, and yelps out, a very beautiful agony reverberating, and kisses him as the very room seems to dizzy, so disorienting, like free-falling from the roller-coaster she hasn't rode in forever, and she holds onto him in every way she can, like when she was young and she held onto Philippe with her eyes closed, afraid of the acceleration and the rush of velocity, and the turns and twists of the tracks.

She holds onto him, even after her shuddering has subsided, and when she pulls her lips away from his, she realises she is crying.

The salty tears drip onto Renton's nose.

"I.. I.." Evaine goes, her voice hoarse, unsure of what to say. She notices how Renton is shuddering like her, his head in an apparent Cloud Nine. "Are you alright, Renton? Did I hurt you?"

It takes him a moment to get his mental awareness fully back into the room with her.

".. I'm so happy.." he tells her, smiling, as his chest seems to expand relievingly, a warmth of pure, blissful euphoria spreading from his heart all over to his arms and legs.

"I'm glad.." She blows her strands of hair aside, and fondles Renton by his face, as she senses their mutual wetness dripping out of her.

Together, they linger like this, feeling so warm and sweaty and spent.

"Evaine.." Renton goes, gazing at her. "You're so beautiful.."

/

And so they take a shower together, the water steaming, spilling over their contours, washing away the detruitus of last night and this morning, and that silky scent of pheromones. It's pleasantly comforting, the water.

After, when they've dried themselves with the towels, Renton sees her pick out her wardrobe – an elegantly casual dress of a fur jacket over dark shirt, where you could see the white fur on the inside, and she swiftly applies miniscule dots to her cheeks, and dyes her right hair white. It would suit her nicely for the bustling streets – her own brand of Las Vegas savoir faire.

She is a bit unrecognisable compared with without makeup on.

Then she scavanges through her bags, looking for something – the birth control pills. But nothing; it's been a while since she last did it with anyone, and she'd tossed out the pills earlier for expiring.

"Merde.." she goes. "We'll have to make a trip to the pharmacies. Hold on Renton, I'll get you your outwear.."

While LeBlanc fetches his clothes from the dry cleaning, Renton checks the Weather Channel for today's climate – it'll be purely sunny for the whole day, with some minor showers over the week. And do they have 'Francois Deux-Deux' the cartoon on somewhere? He flips through the channels..

She bursts in the room, his clothes all wrapped up in plastic sheets. It smells lemony fresh when Renton pulls out his jacket and pants, and LeBlanc gets him his socks which were drying overnight.

So he is all fully ready to go.

When they head downstairs, LeBlanc shows him to the hotel's dining lounge – a large chamber of red chairs and fountains and overhanging chandeliers, where they sit down and she gets a coffee with the eggs, sausage and toast with a yogurt. (The yogurt is there as a 'digestif' – to help ease the digestion.)

I guess I'll have the same, Renton thinks. Well, except the yogurt; he's never had a taste for that thing, and adds on some hashbrowns to his plate, with a cup of milk.

At the table, Renton's groin aches.

"Oohhh.." he goes, drawing a curious look from her. "It's numb.."

"It was your first time with a woman, oui?" LeBlanc goes.

He nods. She's the one who he's lost his virginity with, mere minutes ago, and she is innocently grinning, a light scoff out her mouth.

"Physiologically speaking," LeBlanc explains, her voice lowered so others don't easily overhear, "your body recognises naturally when it is truly going to fertilise someone. So- I think you touch yourself, oui?"

"Mhm." Renton blushes.

"So it's just your hands, alone. But it's like eating potato chips and calling that a satisfying, wholesome meal. You miss out on all the other things, the bodily embrace, the scent, the warmth and my quivering. Let alone the fact of my presence with you. As you have more encounters, you get used to it. Your loins aching after a session, because it's poured much of itself out. I'll show you more.. later on, if you want."

She bites on her buttered toast. "It will be our secret, Renton.. you and me. Please don't tell anyone else about it – not Swain or Lulu, or anyone."

Her eyes invade him; she's entrusting him with her naked heart.

"I won't, ever," Renton says. For how can he betray her – when he's said she's beautiful back in the washroom, he doesn't mean her outward appearance, but how she's made him feel in that moment, and that wonderful, enlivening person he'd sensed existing at her very core.

It would be a strange kind of relationship – a far deeper connection than marriage, he feels, or even parenting. Maybe it is like both.

Maybe it is more than either.

/

The taxicab carries them to a shopping mall, where there are outlets for clothes, shoes, jewelry, electronics, and the like. Actually, it's more than that – it is quite lavishly decorous, with balloons floating under the ceiling lights, and the animated display maps, where you can tap on the screen, and it will show you the path to get there from here.

It is around 7:10 am.

"We should do it fast," LeBlanc goes. "They'll be up around 8:20. I'll sort out your clothes first, and then my contraception.."

She strides, swift steps, Renton having to almost jog to keep up with her. He's much energised – look around! He's never been in a mall this large before, and he's breathtaken by the rich sights, the diversity of outlets.. if he weren't so occupied right now, he'd easily spend a whole day exploring the mall for himself.

LeBlanc finds one of those maps, and she's looking for a boutique shoppe, one for males. Alors – there's one called 'Unicorn,' and it's just short walking distance.

So she leads him to that store.

She gets the occasional glance from guys, and a few women too.

"Hey, why are we up this early anyway?" Renton goes.

"We'll be very pre-occupied for the whole day," LeBlanc goes. "Morning to night. This is the only free time to get you your things. A luggage bag even, and personal belongings-"

Suddenly, Renton's ankle bracelet is buzzing – to Renton's shock, the bracelet's light is glowing a menacing yellow, shining through his pants, and he's hopping on one leg, pulling his other pant leg up, as if to confirm that this is really happening.

Oh non, what a nightmare!

"Why's it buzzing like that?!" Renton yelps, as LeBlanc tries to tug away the offending ankle bracelet – the scene drawing attention of passers-by.

Then LeBlanc decides- she hauls Renton over to the privacy of an alley, and tells him to hold still as she clasps her hand on the bracelet, frying its electronics with a small jolt of her energies.

It's a dead bracelet now, and Renton sighs with relief.

"I don't get it.." Renton goes. "I thought I'm far out of range for this thing to work – I mean, it's Las Vegas, right? Not Vancouver."

"I'm not an expert on these bracelets," LeBlanc goes. "I think.. it might have been a radio wave or something that made it throw a fit. From an electronics store. I should get this off of you when I can. But at least, it won't be bugging you again." She smiles.

They step back into the public area, and a few bystanders are awaiting them.

"Hey, are you folks alright?" a bald fat guy goes. "Sounded like an emegency."

"Oh.." LeBlanc thinks of an answer. "That was his insulin bracelet – my young friend here needed a sudden injection.."

Renton nods in agreement.

"Hm," a lady goes. "Well, take care, you too."

And they wander off.

"Apparently," LeBlanc goes, "they don't know about the house arrest bracelets. It's lucky for us. I think you should roll down your pant leg, in case someone does recognise it."

After Renton does just that, they finally enter the Unicorn boutique (based from Belgium) where she heads to the l'hommes section, and-

"What's your size Renton?" LeBlanc asks him, before she puts her fingers by his collar and checks the tag – L, for large. "And your pants.."

"I dunno my pants.." Renton goes.

"Sit down for a second."

So Renton sits on his bum on the bench, and LeBlanc loosens his belt, and checks the inside back of his pants. Hm.

"Alright," she goes, resetting his belt. "I'll get you a new wardrobe set – the one you're wearing now, your sports jacket, I'd call it 'civilian.' When you show up on stage, you must fit in with the atmosphere – a stage attire."

Without hesitation, LeBlanc is picking out a stage attire for Renton; the white dress shirt/skirt (shirk?) and black pants she gets him resemble pajamas, or a karate robe.

"Try putting it on yourself," she goes, "and let me see the result."

In the dressing room, Renton gets everything but his underwear and socks off, and to his amazement, he finds the wardrobe easy to put on, with the shirk sliding over his head and the pants only needing a string to tighten it by his waist.

It's a loose yet comfortable fit, and he sees himself in the mirror – he almost looks like an elfin jester; just needs the cap with bells on it.

He comes out of the room; it takes LeBlanc a second to gander at him, before she bursts out giggling, her hand to her mouth.

"Awww.. it's cute," she goes. "I like it. What do you think of it Renton?"

"I.. it fits me nice."

"I think you could be my partner during my show routine. I just need to get you a cap to complete the picture.. maybe Lulu has a Santa hat handy." LeBlanc glances at his feet. "Hm."

She winds up buying the outfit, along with a pair of soft, fuzzy slippers – a suitcase too, and a bottle of perfume (Van Cleef & Arpels) that will fit him when audience members get up-close. A total of $475 spent, not including the taxi journey.