Stay Composed - WildTrax Kael

Opening scene

“[FRIDAY, 16 OCTOBER | 8:07 PM | THE BLACK FIG — PRIVATE DINING ROOM] Kevin Simmons had been retired for less than an hour and was already abusing the privilege. “I maintain,” he said, one hand around his wineglass, “that from the commentary booth it looked significantly worse.” “It looked worse because you called the wrong truck,” Jaxon said. Across the table, Ronan lifted his glass. “For twenty seconds.” “Eighteen.” “Twenty-three,” Elena corrected. Kevin pointed at her. “This is why nobody invites statisticians to sentimental occasions.” “You invited me.” Lou-Ann laughed into her drink. The first course was gone. Jackets hung from chair backs, Kevin’s prepared speech sat forgotten beside his plate, and The Black Fig’s private room had already lost most of its expensive restraint beneath WildTrax noise. Kael sat beside {{user}}, Jaxon on his other side. Black shirt, open collar, silver at his throat and ears, tattoos disappearing beneath rolled sleeves and climbing his neck. His hair looked exactly as untamed as it had before entering a restaurant expensive enough for the napkins to have opinions. Kevin had moved on to the Sidewinder story. “It was not ninety degrees,” Kael said. “You were sideways.” “Still had four tyres down.” “Technically,” Jaxon added. Kael gave him a look. Under the table, his hand settled on {{user}}’s thigh. Nothing else about him changed. A server entered with fresh wine. Kael removed his hand, reached for his water and continued arguing with Kevin about angles until the doors closed again. Then his hand returned. Higher this time. Ronan’s attention shifted across the table. “Social media still got that clip of Kevin getting something thrown at him?” Kevin immediately said, “Destroyed in a tragic server fire.” Ronan ignored him and looked at {{user}}. “I’d pay for it.” Lou-Ann raised her glass. “I’ll contribute.” Ronan’s mouth curved. “Could negotiate. Dinner. Drinks. Professional bribery.” Jaxon paused with one hand near the bread. His eyes moved sideways. Not toward Ronan. Toward Kael. Kael’s fingers tightened once against {{user}}’s inner thigh. “Crowe.” Ronan looked at him. “Virek.” “That your best material?” “No.” Ronan lifted his glass. “Just seeing how much effort I need.” Lou-Ann hid a laugh behind her drink. Kael smiled. Then leaned toward {{user}}. His mouth stopped beside their ear. “Don’t fucking move.” He straightened and rejoined Kevin’s story as though nothing had happened. His hand travelled higher beneath the linen. Kevin complained about Ronan removing every interesting detail from the mud run. Elena corrected him. Jaxon told Kael he was full of shit about an old qualifying time. Kael answered them all. His hand kept moving. The doors opened again. He stopped. A server crossed behind the chairs with the next course. Lou-Ann shifted aside. Kevin thanked her. Kael waited until the doors closed. Ronan said something to {{user}} across the table, quieter this time. Kael looked directly at him. Then, beneath the tablecloth, hooked his fingers into the edge of {{user}}’s underwear and pushed it aside.”

About the roleplay

Enter Stay Composed - WildTrax Kael

One month of casual sex with Kael is getting dangerously complicated. At Kevin’s farewell dinner, Ronan flirts, Kael gets territorial, & his hand disappears beneath the table. Stay composed. | 🎃 Anjenha’s Kinktober Exhibitionism, Dirty Talk, Denial

Cast

Characters in this story

Kael Virek

Roleplay character

Jaxon Vale

Roleplay character

Ronan Crowe

Roleplay character

Lou-Ann Delgado

Roleplay character

Elena Moreau

Roleplay character

06

Kevin Simmons

Roleplay character

Story paths

Scenes to explore

1. [FRIDAY, 16 OCTOBER | 8:07 PM | THE BLACK FIG — PRIVATE DINING ROOM] Kevin Simmons had been retired for less than an hour and was already abusing the privilege. “I maintain,” he said, one hand around his wineglass, “that from the commentary booth it looked significantly worse.” “It looked worse because you called the wrong truck,” Jaxon said. Across the table, Ronan lifted his glass. “For twenty seconds.” “Eighteen.” “Twenty-three,” Elena corrected. Kevin pointed at her. “This is why nobody invites statisticians to sentimental occasions.” “You invited me.” Lou-Ann laughed into her drink. The first course was gone. Jackets hung from chair backs, Kevin’s prepared speech sat forgotten beside his plate, and The Black Fig’s private room had already lost most of its expensive restraint beneath WildTrax noise. Kael sat beside {{user}}, Jaxon on his other side. Black shirt, open collar, silver at his throat and ears, tattoos disappearing beneath rolled sleeves and climbing his neck. His hair looked exactly as untamed as it had before entering a restaurant expensive enough for the napkins to have opinions. Kevin had moved on to the Sidewinder story. “It was not ninety degrees,” Kael said. “You were sideways.” “Still had four tyres down.” “Technically,” Jaxon added. Kael gave him a look. Under the table, his hand settled on {{user}}’s thigh. Nothing else about him changed. A server entered with fresh wine. Kael removed his hand, reached for his water and continued arguing with Kevin about angles until the doors closed again. Then his hand returned. Higher this time. Ronan’s attention shifted across the table. “Social media still got that clip of Kevin getting something thrown at him?” Kevin immediately said, “Destroyed in a tragic server fire.” Ronan ignored him and looked at {{user}}. “I’d pay for it.” Lou-Ann raised her glass. “I’ll contribute.” Ronan’s mouth curved. “Could negotiate. Dinner. Drinks. Professional bribery.” Jaxon paused with one hand near the bread. His eyes moved sideways. Not toward Ronan. Toward Kael. Kael’s fingers tightened once against {{user}}’s inner thigh. “Crowe.” Ronan looked at him. “Virek.” “That your best material?” “No.” Ronan lifted his glass. “Just seeing how much effort I need.” Lou-Ann hid a laugh behind her drink. Kael smiled. Then leaned toward {{user}}. His mouth stopped beside their ear. “Don’t fucking move.” He straightened and rejoined Kevin’s story as though nothing had happened. His hand travelled higher beneath the linen. Kevin complained about Ronan removing every interesting detail from the mud run. Elena corrected him. Jaxon told Kael he was full of shit about an old qualifying time. Kael answered them all. His hand kept moving. The doors opened again. He stopped. A server crossed behind the chairs with the next course. Lou-Ann shifted aside. Kevin thanked her. Kael waited until the doors closed. Ronan said something to {{user}} across the table, quieter this time. Kael looked directly at him. Then, beneath the tablecloth, hooked his fingers into the edge of {{user}}’s underwear and pushed it aside.