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Entry tags:

bres,
mab

(no subject)

Characters: Mab, Bres, and guest starring Siobhan McKinley
Date/Time: November, 28th 2 pm
Location: Savannah, Georgia
Rating: R (thanks to Bres and Mab)
Warnings: A little bit of stealth sexuality and probably surprises as well
Summary: A friendly luncheon, arranged by Siobhan. Completely innocent.

The restaurant was a reservation only place, and of course there was a reservation. The tables were small, intimate affairs, with crisply ironed red table cloths, a small neat arrangement of roses in the center, and black napkins folded into perfect triangles on the gold trimmed china plates.

The ladies, of course, were behind schedule. Read: late. Mab was annoyed by it, and Siobhan was pretending to be blissfully ignorant of her daughter's distaste for the lack of punctuality. The two walked to the table, with Siobhan holding up nearly the entire conversation herself, which was mostly about some charming little dress shop, and how some things you just had to fly down South to find.

Siobhan was a vast contrast to her daughter. Her coloring was vibrantly blonde (Mab would tell anyone who commented on the short coif, that it was very expertly dyed), and her eyes a deep honey-brown. She was lovely, but it was rare that a stranger would pick out that Siobhan and Maeve were mother and daughter. Their only similar traits being their cheek bones and their fair skin.

So as they were lead to their little table by the hostess, Mab looked nonplussed, while Siobhan prattled on animatedly.

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"It certainly makes birthdays and Christmas easier," she conceded. Her expression remained stoic, but her eyes glittered when the met his

"Oh, and just what of things do you like, Siobhan?" The skirt is pulled up over her knee, where Bres' hand now rests.

"Oh, aside from the obvious I enjoy gardening. One can always hire landscapers, but there's just a certain satisfaction to being more hands on," the older woman replied genially.

Mab's leg moved against his hand, making her skirt ride a fraction higher, a subtle invitation.

"I understand that. I have a lot of people I could delegate tasks to, but I still enjoy doing things for myself." Bres gets the message, sliding his hand up further along her now bare thigh, pushing the skirt up as he does so.

"And that's the way it ought to be. Far too many young people these days as want to do little as possible and still have all the benefits. So few take pride in their work."

While her mother chatted away, Mab was eating her salad, easily masking her internal arousal at Bres' questing hand. And as the skirt rode up, she parted her thighs for him slightly.

"True, true," Bres conceded sadly. The hand slides back up, slipping between her legs and palming her once more.

Mab had brought her tea to her lips at just the right moment, because her facade cracked slightly and her lips curved up slightly at the corners. This was because this time he was not touching her through the skirt but beneath it, and he will have discovered her little surprise now. She wasn't wearing any panties.

Bres had been about to take a drink when he suddenly felt-oh shit! Good He managed a cough to cover his surprise. She knew they were going to see her mother and she knew what he had intended to do! And she wore no panties!? Oh the devious minx... He grasps her more firmly at the realization.

"Sorry, some wine went down the wrong tube."

Mab sat up a little straighter when he adjusted his hold, giving him only the slightest of smiles.

"Careful, Christopher," Siobhan said with concern. "We wouldn't want you to choke."

"Indeed not," Bres managed to say. He gave her the slightest of eye-narrowing before turning back to Siobhan. He then starts to caress Mab slowly.

"Yes, however would we explain it," Mab teased, echoing something he'd said to her back at the Mansion. She was already a little wet, just from the anticipation. And his slow, intimate caress had her eyes closing for just a moment. She was too good at this game to be too obvious right in front of her mortal mother.

Their meal arrived then, and Mab was grateful for the table cloth. It hid her and Bres' hand well and the waiter couldn't even tell anything was amiss. Their plates were left and drinks refilled, and then the three were left to their enjoyment, both known and secret.

Bres resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Mab's use of his earlier statement. When their food arrived, Bres had no choice but tu remove his hand in order to give the appearance of eating.

Mab masked her slight disappointment, because she knew that eventually he would have to stop or give the game away. But she made no effort to fix her skirt, even subtly. So as they began to eat, she was sitting there, prim as you please, with her skirt hiked up nearly all the way, wearing nothing beneath, and acting for all the world like nothing was amiss.

Oh Bres hated having to do it, but not eating when food was right there would be pretty suspicious. Besides, he was not as ambidextrous as he'd like.

The meal went on fairly normally. As normally as it could given the group. Siobhan chatted away about inconsequential things, just to keep the talk going. Mab was taciturn as ever, only responded to conversation when she had to or when she had the opportunity to make a snarky remark. Though under the table, she was brushing her leg against Bres', making sure he remembered her current state of dress under the table cloth.

He's just finishing up his soup when her leg brushes against him. He gives her a "give me a minute!" look. He finishes the last bit of broth before casually sitting the spoon down. "My compliments to the chef," he said with a pleased expression. His hand disappeared once more and abruptly slides all the way back up her leg. He gives her a quick "happy now?" look.

The look Mab gave him in response was heated and said that no, she wasn't happy just yet, but this would do for now.

And suddenly, Siobhan gasps a little dramatically. "Oh no! I almost forgot, I need to go pick up something before the store closes."

Mab actually blinks at her mother. "It's still early. Can't it wait?"

"No, it can't. It's something you're not allowed to see anyway," the older woman said with a conspiratorial wink, before rising. "Now don't rush on my account either of you. I'm not even certain how long it will take. Perhaps, Christopher might be a gentleman and offer to bring you back to the hotel when you two have finished." Finished what, she doesn't say, she just gives Bres a knowing look, and departs with a little wave.

Bres just sits there for a moment, doing his best to maintain a confused facade. He looks over at Mab. "Well..that was different."

"She's always so flighty," she commented, slightly bemused herself. "I suppose I should count myself fortunate your mother was unavailable and I am abandoned with you."

"Oh yes, whatever will you do now that you're stuck with me," he said cheekily. The hand then blatantly shoots up to cup her again.

Surprised, she actually gasps softly. "I'm sure you'll find some way to entertain me," she practically purrs.

"Think we should take your mother's advice and go back to the hotel?" he asked with a smirk.

She smirked right back at him, and then made eye contact with the waiter. "Check. Now." Her command was hurriedly obeyed and they were cashed out in record time. "Where's your car?"

"Not far. Second row in the front." When the waiter leaves he fondles her once more before removing his hand. "You may want to straighten that," he teases.

She gives her hair a haughty toss, and stands, simultaneously maneuvering her skirt back down to where it belonged. She smoothed her hands over the material once, satisfied.

"Ready when you are, Christopher."