annicadlcr-blog

[annicadlcr-blog]

grant-hawthorne‌:

He couldn’t have articulated it in so many words or even really understood the significance of it, but the training aspect of D/s was far more appealing to Grant than the rough sex it reinforced.  He felt a knot of pride tighten in his chest as Annie gave herself over to his care, trusting him not to take things too far.  And he wouldn’t, not for anything in the world.  When she turned her impossibly blue eyes on him, when she pleaded with him like that he didn’t have the capacity to be selfish.  This was for her, even if it would be her exquisite face his cock would soon be ruthlessly plundering. “If you can’t speak, just squeeze my arm or leg tightly.  That’ll be our signal,” he assured her. “Good girl, then we can both enjoy making a mess out of you.  Perfection is even more flawless when it’s dirtied up, bruised, turned red with the strike of my palm against your pale skin and then built back up.  Now then …” the time for gentleness and patience had passed.  Grant could tell by her squirming that Annie needed more and so did he.  His fingers trailed from her throat down to the neckline of her fetching blue dress, grabbed hold of the fabric and with a tug ripped it down to her navel, exposing whatever may lay in wait for him beneath.  The other grasp twisted in her long blonde hair and pulled her in towards his waiting cock, bobbing in the air like some obscene fisherman’s lure. “Get back on my dick, angel.  I need it warmed by your lips and cradled by your throat or I’m gonna bust from desperation.”

Squeezing. That worked. Annie was satisfied and nodded in eager response. All questioning subsided now, she was satisfied and her hunger had returned in full force. And what perfect timing, because he seemed as ready as she was. The dress went easily, her bare nipples immediately tensing with their exposure. Her body went immediately pliable, sinking into his grip on her hair so that she could be bent to his needs. At his demand, she devoured him again, taking his cock down to the place it was before as though no time had passed at all. She swallowed him down until she was gagging, saliva already dripping from her tongue as she slid it from between her lips. Annie wanted to please Grant. She wanted to be a vessel of pleasure for him now. Her time would come, maybe, but she wanted to drain him now so he knew her capabilities while they dined. And she wanted to be undone herself, craving him, so there would be no hesitation when they returned to the room.

She did not brace herself this time, but instead allowed his grip in her hair to be the thing to hold her upright. Annie’s clit was throbbing and she needed to be touched, but she loved the ache and wanted the denial for now. No one had just used her up in the way that she’d needed, and Grant was well on his way to giving her what she’d been craving. A natural submissive, perhaps, though she didn’t quite have the vocabulary. Instead she just knew that she wanted to be a receptacle for his pleasure and his brutality, and she quietly prayed that he could read it.

[annicadlcr-blog]

ride-a-cowboy‌:

“if this is the most embarassing moment of your life, you haven’t lived yet,” Nash retorted, sidling his way closer.  It wasn’t every day he managed to render a beautiful woman breathless just from sight alone.  The stumbling and stammering only made her more endearing.  Leaning in close, he made a study as thorough as a painter of his muse out of her lips and murmured, “Though I like your mouth, too.  If you keep telling me thinks like that I could become a fan of yours.  And you’re making a mighty fine first impression just by being here.  What’s your name?  And what do you do on the boat?  You’ve got to be a famous actress.  Model?  The camera would eat you up.  Whatever your job, you must be one Very Important Person which means I need to get to know you better.  So much better.”

“Y-yeah...” Annie shook her head quickly, wrapping her thoughts back around her brain slightly. What if Nash wasn’t the only celebrity on this cruise? She was going to have to be professional, or she’d be back on her ass again, without a job. Who would put up with a girl who drooled over all the famous people on board? He asked you a question, Annie. “Uhh...” One syllable. Fuck. It was all she could manage at first before she swallowed hard, wetting her vocal chords. “Annie. I’m Annie. I’m a hooker.” She paused, then quickly added, “Here. Not... elsewhere. I mean, it was elsewhere, but now it’s here. Sorry, escort! It was... yeah, so I have sex. With people here, who want it, and... yeah. That’s me. Not a model. Definitely not famous, unless you count how well I’m known on the corner of St. Bernard Avenue and North Broad Street. And Iiiiiiiii am going to stop talking now.” And she did, with an awkward smile that read, Sorry.

[annicadlcr-blog]

ride-a-cowboy‌:

Nash knew that look.  The stare of a groupie or a fan.  He’d spent the last fifteen years enduring screaming lines of them outside his shows (and his bedroom).  A life in showbiz had made him immune to the effect it had on other, less jaded souls so when he first noticed the blonde up ahead looking at him as if he’d grown a second head his first inclination was to look down to make sure he wasn’t buck naked.  Nope, all good.  And his second was to break the ice with a cheshire grin and a casual lean against the bulkhead. “Hi there. I get a hunch you recognize me?  I should be the one speechless because you could be an actress or a supermodel lookin’ like that but unfortunately my mouth tends to run on and on even when I should keep it shut.  I’m Nash.  And even before I know your name, consider me a fan.”

He spoke. Oh god, he spoke. And he was speaking to her. Annie started to panic a little bit, her fingers trembling and toying with the hem of her loose Zeppelin t-shirt, working it into a wrinkled wreck. “I like your mouth.” Annie blurted out the words, instantly horrified by them, and covered her lips with her hands as though she could shove the words back in. Muffled behind them, she muttered a, “Sorry.” She dropped them finally, her expression perplexed by the idea that she could be here, doing this, talking to someone as famous as this. Someone she knew. Rich was one thing. Well-known (and well-spoken) was another. “You can’t be a fan of me. I haven’t done anything. I mean, nothing like... all that impressive. I’ve just been... like... here. And that’s it. I just...” She shook her head quickly, resetting, and though she still seemed petrified, eyes wide, she reset herself. “Hi. This is the most embarrassing moment of my life.”

[annicadlcr-blog]

grant-hawthorne‌:

The thick trunks of Grant’s legs shuddered, struggling to keep him upright as Annie obediently suckled at the head of his cock.  She looked beatific, like some fallen angel who still had a spark of innocence and implicit trust in her lovely eyes.  His hips started to push on their own accord but he fought for the willpower to stop, panting and muttering an emphatic “Fuck!” as she withdrew, a lewd ‘pop!’ where his length careened off the puckered edge of her mouth.  The reliance on him to help her was endearing.  As rough as he intended to be with her, in that pause a tenderness reigned. “Then let’s have your safe word be ‘rose’.  It’s soft and beautiful but play with it too hard and you’ll get scratched by thorns.  I’m going to take you just to the edge of that, Annie,” he promised calmly, the cup of his palm against her face transferring confidence and safety. “No thorns, though.  I won’t hurt you any further than what turns you on and primes you for all the ways I want to fuck you before the sun finds us.  Is that alright?  Is it what you want?  That matters as much … no, more than what I want tonight.”

“Rose, okay.” Annie repeated the word, reaching up to wipe underneath her eyes in case there was some mascara that had smeared. “I can remember that. But what do I do when I can’t... speak?” The girl didn’t intend to use any kind of safe word, but curiosity lingered at the tip of her mind now, and the proffer of safety was enthralling. Is this what her life could be now? Could she get everything that she wanted? She could have the gruff control of the man who had wanted her here, and she could have his respect of potential boundaries. Not that Annie had many, but... it was possible. She pressed her lips together, swollen already and wet from her efforts. “Don’t worry,” Annie promised. “You’ve reassured me, and I get it. I told you I wanted it, and I’m not exactly a bullshitter.” She shifted on her knees, satisfying her need to increase circulation, fingers moving into her lap, laying in wait. “No one’s really hurt me as much as I could be, you know? They always say they can, and that they will, but I’ve never had bruises that lasted more than, like, a day. So yeah, you’re probably going to have to put in some serious effort to actually hurt me, and I want you to try.” Annie’s hopefulness and pleading was clear in her quickened tone, breathy from her panting. “Please? I’ll  tell you if you go too far, but you won’t.”

[annicadlcr-blog]

@danielmendcza

Another night with Daniel, and Annie was thrilled. She’d grown comfortable with the man, learned that there was no judgment, and it was fun. When was the last time that a regular sex partner had been fun? Annie wasn’t used to connection; most clients in New Orleans had been One and Done, or if they were regulars, it was usually a quickie in their car when they were on their way back from work or a blowjob in an alley when they just wanted a brief way to get off. But with Daniel, it was different. Annie laughed. Annie came. Annie talked and played and slept and kissed and when she left, she felt invigorated. So when she received notice that Daniel was waiting for her, she tossed together an overnight bag quickly (the essentials... black lace negligee nightie, toothbrush, clean panties to match the negligee), eased on a bit of strawberry lip gloss, and took off to his room. She had the quickest route memorized by now, and in her excitement had forgotten to change into something more alluring. Instead, when Annie knocked on Daniel’s door, she was still clad in a baggy Rolling Stones t-shirt, frayed jean shorts, and her flat red Converses. She was practically rocking on her heels, bouncing in excitement, waiting for him to answer the door. And when he did, she more or less flew into his arms, hugging him tightly, levying a line of kisses along the side of his neck. “Hi,” she said, between a few of them. “Hi, hi, hi...”

[annicadlcr-blog]

@ride-a-cowboy

Annie didn’t know what to expect from this cruse line. Her surprise was a regular occurrence, but no surprise was quite so shocking than to see Nash fucking Ryland, strolling down one of the hallways. Annie had to do a double take at first, but it was definitely him, in the flesh, here, and here, and definitely here. Annie knew that she should have been discrete. Allow people their privacy, but she’d never met a famous person before. So she rushed to him, black ballet flats carrying her in a flurry, stopping just in front of him. And then... her words ran dry. All of them. But she stood there, eyes on his, horrified and awed expression over her features. Say hi, she willed herself... but nothing came out. Just a hoarse and reverent breath of a laugh.

[annicadlcr-blog]

[annicadlcr-blog]

poexnguyen‌:

Poe mirrored the other woman’s movements, pointing at herself, “Poe.” She smiled reassuringly. Despite some of the other dancers’ beliefs, she wasn’t always a hard ass and did have a soft side. “I don’t mind. I was only teasing when I said I wasn’t going to share.” The beignets were definitely good and moving into a positive mindset was even better. “Step ups are good.” Annie was hard to figure out. She hadn’t been able to decide if the hesitation was fear or something else. Choosing a different topic of discussion, Poe decided to ask a question, “What do you do around here?”

“Poe.” Annie repeated the name out loud, a not so subtle attempt to record it to memory. It was a kindred kind of feeling that she was having, almost like someone was reaching out to her, and Annie was a relative stranger to that kind of gentleness. She didn’t require it from lovers, but friends weren’t exactly a dime a dozen. The people she’d fallen in with in high school were losers. Riff raff. Bad influences, all of them. Annie settled back in her chair, ripping apart the finale beignet, nibbling it bit by bit as she spoke. “I’m one of the hookers.” She made a motion with a beignet piece, correcting herself, “Escorts. Sorry.”

[annicadlcr-blog]

grant-hawthorne‌:

Anyone who was ever confused about the nature of submission and what it truly means only needed to peek around the door at the tableau of servitude playing out in Grant’s VIP suite.  Annie, still clothed, on her knees and struggling to take him.  Wanting to.  Desperate to.  And transfixed by what she was doing to him and how beautiful she was in the act; her pale skin flaring from the effort, those long blonde locks cascading, tickling along his thighs and swishing against the taut drum of his scrotum, and through it all the incomparable pressure of her mouth and throat closed around him, worshipful … it was hard to tell who was the one with the power and who was relinquishing it.  That is the truth of submission.  No one accepts that gift without giving of themself in return.  Grant would have done anything for her in the heat of the moment, his desire to please her as much as Annie was pleasing him.

“You’re doing so good,” he praised her, voice raspy as sandpaper.  Need made him hoarse.  It also made him rough, the hand at her throat constricting in time with the feel of her muscles involuntarily closing off around his cock, timing it so that he’d release in tandem with her breaths.  She was braving her biological impulses to choke and in gratitude the fingers that were not bestowing pain granted pleasure instead, wiping at her tears, caressing her face and drawing back her hair. “You’re taking me, little one, as much as you can …”  He drew himself out, a runnel of her saliva cascading down his thigh, slicking the cock that he smacked against her upturned, gasping face. “We both know that isn’t enough.  You want it all.  You’re starving for it, my hungry angel.”  Just the tip was returned to her full lips, something to suckle on as Grant waited. “When you’re ready for me to fuck your face like you really need, ask me again.  Beg for it with your safe word and I hope this is the only time I hear it.  You’ll be brave for me, won’t you, Annie?  You’ll take every inch of me down and you’ll trust me not to hurt you more than you can endure.  Look at me … Yes, you know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?”

Annie couldn’t identify the direct words of praise that Grant was providing, only that his voice was soothing. Pleased. She focused, trying to awaken several parts of her brain at once in order to take in what he was saying, and what she was doing. And yes... she was taking him as much as she could. The constriction of her throat was doing nothing more than stoking the fire that was burning inside of her, and her heart picked up in a biological fear response. Annie gasped, panting as he drew out of her mouth, eyes darting up to see if she was doing something wrong. But instead, he checked in. She took the head of his cock between her lips, sucking on the swollen flesh, massaging gently with her tongue.

A safe word? Annie stalled. The begging was something she was used to. She was good at it. Practiced. But a safe word? The escort forced herself to continue sucking, but her mind was swimming with the idea of it. No one had asked her about that before. Not that it would have mattered. The Street Corner Johns weren’t too keen on respecting boundaries, and Annie didn’t have any as far as she was concerned. Thank, Annie. Think. She finally drew off of him with a noise, nodding in affirmation of his question, eyes searching his with a precarious questioning. “I’ve never... done that before. With a safe word, I mean. And I’m gonna have my mouth... full. So maybe you can recommend something?” There was a mild hopefulness in Annie’s tone, something discretely unsure, as she turned to Grant for complete guidance.

[annicadlcr-blog]

@lvkemvke

Annie hadn’t had trouble booking clients thus far. This, given the other escorts on board, was a surprise. The others were stunningly beautiful, and as far as Annie was concerned, confident and unafraid of the challenges of their occupation. For Annie, however, she knew that she needed to up her game. She couldn’t just be passive and wait to be approached sometimes. If she wanted to keep her place on this ship, she had to be confident, as unnatural as it felt to be. Annie realized, as she smoothed down some of the wrinkles on her (borrowed) red dress (skin-tight, long-sleeved), that even in New Orleans, on street corners, she waited until a car stalled to talk. Annie, in short, was not used to asking for anything. She made her way to the ship’s casino, knots binding her stomach, and scanned the whole of it before settling on a man melting into a chair at one of the tables. She nearly tripped over her kitten heels to scurry to him before she lost courage, her side slamming against the padded rail of the table, elbow perching over it. The chips on the table rattled a little with the gesture, and Annie tried to recover with a smile. Instead, she looked somewhat terrified as she offered the stranger, “Hi. I’m available tonight if you want to have sex.” Well. Couldn’t accuse the girl of not being direct.

[annicadlcr-blog]

grant-hawthorne‌:

There were secrets to be learned about Grant from how Annie slowly consumed and savored his cock.  For one, she cultivated a shiver of bliss when her tongue cradled the underside of his shaft, caressing it as ably as her nimble fingers.  The highly sensitive head, freed of its uncircumcised sheath now that it was fully erect, rewarded her taste buds with a drop of pre-cum, incited by the sensation of her palate.  But more than anything, just the sight of her, entirely in her element, on her knees and supplicant but wielding more power than she could possibly comprehend; that was the most arousing aspect.  And it made him impatient, needy for more, desperate for all of her and to fill her with all of him.

“You are starving, aren’t you?  Here …” his powerful hips pushed, working himself deeper, beckoning her to take him.  The rest of Grant was by no means idle, either.  He set a knee upon the bed, nuzzling it between her thighs, applying pressure to her core and providing a fulcrum against which she could move and grind.  The hand that wasn’t busied pulling her hair found a home against her throat, gentle at first, thumb coaxing the outline of muscles to order their relaxation so she could accept more of his cock into the warmth of her mouth. “Let me feed you, kitten.“  Bit by bit, measure by measure he assumed the reins of control which were Grant’s shield.  Comfortably in his element, he bent Annie’s will to it, like the first tentative bending of hot metal before hammering it into shape.

The initial drop of pre-cum danced on her tongue and made Annie weak with longing. She was doing this. To him. She didn’t feel powerful, but she felt ingratiated; he’d given her such a gift by allowing himself to unravel with her and she couldn’t think of a way to rightfully repay him. Annie took in a slow breath through her nose to relax the back of her throat, knowing that she could only take him so deep without his force, but wanting to try anyway. Her trembling thighs clamped around his knee, hips jutting forward around it. A mewled satisfaction rose from her lips, the sound dissipating into little vibrations around Grant’s cock.

Her chin tucked slightly, urging him to rub her throat as much as he needed to help her relax. At his press, she could hear her blood pumping through her carotid artery, a light-headed pleasure washing over her. She adjusted her lips, parting her aching jaw farther, and attempted to swallow him down, more of him, and the head of his cock did crest the back hollow of her throat. She gagged, coughing, but kept herself down with her fingers pressing into his hips, hard. Her nostrils flared as she took in a deep breath, one that struggled against his girth, tears of sheer effort springing to her eyes. But Annie didn’t pull back, she didn’t give up; tenacious as ever, adjusted to his will, rather than hoping that he would meet her at hers.

[annicadlcr-blog]

I’ve been scarce the past two days, and I’ll be scarce today. I’m a New Orleanian and it’s Southern Decadence this weekend, aka an LGBTQIA+ extravaganza! I’m walking around with a base state of “buzzed,” mostly in a state of “drunk af.” I wore a fuckton of glitter to a queer lady event last night and I think I’ll have glitter all over me for a month.

Feel free to like this post to get a personalized starter tomorrow, once I’ve sobered up a little. xoxo

[annicadlcr-blog]

grant-hawthorne‌:

There was nothing gentle in Grant Hawthorne’s life.  Even the good work his philanthropic foundation did was at a breakneck pace, desperate to get rid of more than he earned as if wealth were a cardinal sin.  The only other pleasures in his existence were just as razor-sharp, too.  Exercise was an act of self-punishment, and the ache still ringing in his muscles reminded him that he’d been particularly hard at it today, the adrenaline from that fueling every filthy thing he intended to do to the sweet young thing reverently tracing the contours of his abs.  And fucking?  The word alone told it all.  Not making love.  Not intercourse.  Not having sex.  His only strength and speed was fuck, for every breathless, sweat-soaked, ruthless connotation it held. 

Annie’s kiss to the underside of his cock collided like a sledgehammer.

He didn’t groan.  He roared, loud enough to shake the walls and cause the crystal light fixture overhead to tinkle musically.  Head back, neck thick-tensed, the organ she greeted with that gentle gratitude pulsed against soft lips and his hand wound in her hair involuntarily flexed, pulling, adding pin-pricks of pain alongside pleasure for the woman who bestowed it in a way that defied all Grant was.  The powerful nature of that sensation almost made him cum then and there, but his teeth gritted against the pressure until it subsided.  Breathless, he panted, looking down with a mixture of wonder and unfettered lust limning ochre eyes. Did she have the capacity to shatter him as well?  He hoped so.  And a proud, paternal smile conveyed that wish. “That’s it.  Learn every inch.  Caress it.  Anoint it.  Bless the cudgel that’s going to pound you senseless, Annie.  Welcome it like the good girl you are.”

Grant reacted violently. Annie had a brief moment of panic, blood rushing through her, fear that she had somehow fucked this up already, but then she felt his fingers in her hair and it seemed like a reward instead of chastisement. It was a good feeling, a feeling of relief, as though she’d finally found her place. Sure, he was the first client she’d had on this ship, but it was more than that. It felt right to be under someone’s control like this. It was enthralling. It was like coming home at the end of a long vacation, with muscles that were sore and aching for their place.

His words were like a douse of cold water and she let out a small mewl, pulling back from his cock to pant for a moment. Barely any of him down, and she was already struggling for breath. Annie, however, only gave herself a few moments to recover before she took him between her lips again, this time further, the head of his cock raking against her hard palate. Her eyes had to tear away from him and she rose up on her knees until she was straight, fingers spreading to his hips to brace herself. Her tongue flattened against the underside of his cock, tip of it tracing each vein and memorizing it. Her ears perked as she tried to stay attentive to his reactions, pinging them for later. She suckled, gently, but remained otherwise unmoved, just mapping him out, relishing.

[annicadlcr-blog]

Heyooo! It’s January here. I have an open starter up for Moira, but so far, I’ve only been answering starters from Annie. So go ahead and like this if you’d like a personalized starter, and I’ll either get something random up, or hit you up with a thread idea for approval before getting it started. LMK, babes. You’re gorgeous. Yeah, you.

[annicadlcr-blog]

grant-hawthorne‌:

There was no turning back from this.  The die had been cast from the moment Grant had booked the unassuming blonde escort.  He’d seen potential in her, yes, to handle him, to take all he had to give and endure.  Those qualities were rare, and that’s why he’d stoked the fires of passion that still burned inside a cold man just prior.  The way she looked at him, feasted on the sight of him like a long-awaited meal he wanted Annie ravenous.  And she bent so easily, letting herself be guided, letting him have that all important sense of command which was his crutch.  Would she find the word?  It was one that ought to come naturally to lips like those.  Lips made to be wrapped around his inches.  His own breath caught, suspended on the same knife’s edge as the woman on his bed who cast about for the correct syllable.

Then he heard it.

Then he exhaled a deep sigh of relief, followed by a phrase that was the highest praise he could offer.  Grant sought her worrying fingers, prising them from her dress so that he could press them just against his abdomen, fanned out around but not touching his cock yet.  Near enough, though, for her to feel the heat of him and the tension roiling in the muscles of his thighs building to break forth in so much cum. “Good girl.”  It was a sacred phrase to this man, one that is portioned out preciously rather than carelessly thrown.  And if that didn’t properly convey his approval, the visible twitch of his length did. “This is going to shatter you, Annie.  I hope it will, anyhow.  I’m going to test how much you want it and how much of it you can take.  You should know it’s going to be my goal to have you begging; first for more and then for an end … which you won’t get until I’ve fucked you beyond the boundaries you think you’re capable of.”  The fingers and palm of his other arm still splayed across her scalp and pulled her in, insistently, beckoning the escort to what she’d asked for. “Get on your knees and worship me, little one.  You asked for it and now you’re going to eat your beautiful words before they’re replaced with rougher, filthier ones screamed until you’re hoarse.”

It may have been only seconds, but to Annie, it was an eternity. She waited to hear if it was the right word, if she’d done everything to his standards, if she had pleased him or disappointed him. Her hands were trembling, her cunt was burning and throbbing, and she was certain she was soaking through her white laced panties already. And that’s when she heard the words. Good girl. It sent a pang of gratefulness surging through Annie, beginning at the pit of her stomach and swelling up throw her heart, almost forming a lump in her throat. She felt like she’d won something. Like she’d somehow finally gotten what she’d really needed, without even knowing it was missing in the first place. And Annie began to feel truly special. She had been his choice. He’d wanted her and he had her now, and the ravenous woman was going to make sure he didn’t regret it.

She sunk at his direction to her knees, eyes upwards to greet his. She nodded, slowly. She wondered if he truly meant it, rather than the other men who talked a big game but couldn’t deliver. This will shatter you, at best, had led to a slightly bruised ass and a hand clamped around her throat for a few moments. Shatter her? That was almost offensive. She already knew that the sheer size of his cock could do serious damage if he allowed it and took that fateful step, but would he? Regardless, she had this moment. Worship me. Her vision grew nearly fuzzy at that, the only focus on the beautifully engorged organ in front of her. Her hands traced the skin he’d allowed, easing over his taught stomach, and every steel-cast muscle there. She started with a kiss, slow and gentle, to the underside of his erection, taking in his warmth, and paying a brief homage before going further. “Thank you,” Annie added in a hushed, reverent tone, her lips remaining parted after. With that, her mouth circled his swollen head, tongue tracing underneath and stroking over the slit, just mapping out the ridges and taking time to learn his salty taste.

[annicadlcr-blog]

[annicadlcr-blog]

poexnguyen‌:

Poe was confused by the girl’s response. Most who would have stared and even drooled over her food, would have gladly taken it and even forgotten to say thanks. “I’m positive. No more eating my feelings, at least for today.” She hadn’t missed the answer to her question but she was still processing and deciding what to say next. When it came to her, Poe offered her next question very nonchalant. “How’s the whole figuring it out part going for you?” Skittish wasn’t the exact word she’d use to describe the other but there was definite hesitation that Poe was sure came from not being able to trust others.

“Okay. I mean... if you’re sure.” Annie pinched her second beignet, tearing it in half in case the other woman changed her mind. She tapped off a bit of the excess powdered sugar before taking another bite, relishing in this little taste of home. “This is definitely a step up,” she answered, mouth full, a hand coming in front of it to be polite. “I think it’s a step up for everyone but I just...” She swallowed a bite, let out a breath of a laugh, and lowered her hand, somewhat sheepishly. “I don’t even know your name and I’m stealing your food.” Annie didn’t stick her hand forward -- some people hated to shake hands -- but instead pointed at herself. “Annie.”