Suguru gives her a flat look, unimpressed; her jokes are not that good. If the corners of her mouth twitch because she is still weak to Satoru's brand of silliness, it's only fleeting and means nothing.
She sighs when Satoru puts her head in her lap; like the bus, this is something she should have considered before, something so quintessentially Satoru. It harkens back to who they were before.
Suguru curls her hand gently but firmly around Satoru's neck, making it obvious that her hand is there. She traces Satoru's lip with her thumb. "Do you know what you're doing, Satoru?"
She should mention that she's not the same Suguru she once was— Satoru's Suguru— and that the mean, bitchy Suguru was just as much a part of her. Satoru doesn't seem to like that part of her, and Satoru doesn't really have anywhere to go if she suddenly doesn't want that.
On the other hand, Suguru is tired of talking, especially when nothing seems to matter to Satoru, or get through to her, and she's just as tired of holding back all the time. Some of the stuff the night before had been an act; she's generally much warmer, especially when her girls are good for her. But some of it had been real. (And she thinks, no matter what, that Satoru does need to be spanked.)
The problem is that Suguru is still deeply attracted to Satoru. Satoru is a gorgeous woman, even dressed down without makeup, and Suguru has eyes. And her brand of playfulness and teasing shaped so much of Suguru's general thoughts and attitudes about desire that it's hard to disconnect the two. She wants Satoru, despite the years of bad blood between them.
Maybe she gives in, lets this happen: fucks Satoru on her bus, and in their various rooms, and maybe even in her dressing room. Then, in three months, with the tour over and Satoru done with her, bored by everything and moving on to new pastures, she'd have had her fill. Fucked Satoru out of her system.
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She sighs when Satoru puts her head in her lap; like the bus, this is something she should have considered before, something so quintessentially Satoru. It harkens back to who they were before.
Suguru curls her hand gently but firmly around Satoru's neck, making it obvious that her hand is there. She traces Satoru's lip with her thumb. "Do you know what you're doing, Satoru?"
She should mention that she's not the same Suguru she once was— Satoru's Suguru— and that the mean, bitchy Suguru was just as much a part of her. Satoru doesn't seem to like that part of her, and Satoru doesn't really have anywhere to go if she suddenly doesn't want that.
On the other hand, Suguru is tired of talking, especially when nothing seems to matter to Satoru, or get through to her, and she's just as tired of holding back all the time. Some of the stuff the night before had been an act; she's generally much warmer, especially when her girls are good for her. But some of it had been real. (And she thinks, no matter what, that Satoru does need to be spanked.)
The problem is that Suguru is still deeply attracted to Satoru. Satoru is a gorgeous woman, even dressed down without makeup, and Suguru has eyes. And her brand of playfulness and teasing shaped so much of Suguru's general thoughts and attitudes about desire that it's hard to disconnect the two. She wants Satoru, despite the years of bad blood between them.
Maybe she gives in, lets this happen: fucks Satoru on her bus, and in their various rooms, and maybe even in her dressing room. Then, in three months, with the tour over and Satoru done with her, bored by everything and moving on to new pastures, she'd have had her fill. Fucked Satoru out of her system.