A Healthy Dose of Exercise (2/?) - Bethany/Aveline
anonymous
October 7 2011, 03:20:44 UTC
Aveline strode to the center of the yard and proceeded to stretch while she retreated to her chair. Sitting down, she crossed her legs demurely and retrieved her book. It was a book of Orleisan philosophy that she'd found abandoned in the corner of a warehouse she and her sister had raided. She'd always had a passion for books, so she rescued this one. It hadn't taken long to figure out why the book had been left behind. It contained some of the most depressingly dull ramblings of a stoic monk who exhorted against any and all pleasures of this life.
She'd been tempted to throw it away, but while the words had little use, the book itself did. It was very sizable, three handsbreadths across and and nearly three high. It was the perfect cover for the unobtrusive enjoyment of Aveline's training sessions.
Flipping the book open to the chapter on the many and perfidious sins of seasoned meat, she settled back into the window seat to watch. Aveline always began the same way. First, she would stretch. Her shoulders first and then her arms, twisting around and reaching behind her loosen up those powerful muscles. Next came the leg stretches, moving from side to side and bending at the knees. Luck was with her today, for her deep knee bends were done facing away from her, allowing her an incredible view of her backside. Athya even joked about it, saying it likely could stop an arrow at twenty paces. She never saw the humor in it. Harming such a bottom would be sacrilege.
Usually, Aveline would move to sword work, but today was a truly lucky day. Not only would she be free of the house soon, but apparently Aveline's back was stiff. She twisted and bent, reaching for her toes and then stretching up to her full height. As she bent backwards, reaching for the sky, she caught a glimpse of the roundness of her breasts beneath her tunic. Her mouth went suddenly dry and her hands tightened on the old monk's ramblings.
Apparently done, she tightened her shield and drew her sword. Standing in the middle of the yard, she went entirely still, only the rise and fall of her chest distinguishing her from a statue. She did not move, did not tremble in the slightest. Aveline was centering. Bethany had to disguise her interest as something, so the swordswoman was explaining the philosophy and theory of swordplay. Of centering oneself and in the process, finding where the other was weak and off balance. The art of picking it out, finding the moment where they decided to move and striking before they could. It was similar to her studies of magic, and the philosophy behind it had even helped her with her art. And in the process, it had given her a greater understanding of Aveline.
She'd learned the tell. Aveline's jaw would tense just ever so slightly and the muscles of her left shoulder would bunch. Her strike would follow right after. The jaw clenched. Her shoulder tightened. And Aveline turned from statue to whirlwind.
A Healthy Dose of Exercise (3/?) - Bethany/Aveline
anonymous
October 7 2011, 03:21:52 UTC
It amazed her that a woman so powerful could move with such speed and grace. It's what had started this. Honest interest had turned to fascination and then blossomed into infatuation. She knew she was hopelessly addicted to these sessions, that the chance of anything ever happening was so remote as to be barely a dream, but she could not pull away.
So she watched as Aveline flowed through the garden like liquid fire. Blade swept high, shield low. Thrust and parry, advance and retreat. It was a formal dance done with such primal passion that sucked her in. Soon, sweat was pouring off Aveline's body. Her arms glistened, her chest heaved under a clinging tunic and her skin flushed with exertion. That tunic clung to every graceful curve, showing off her glorious form.
Bethany's breath quickened and her cheeks flushed as dark as Aveline's. Her heart raced as Aveline twisted and parried and feinted. She clutched at the book, raising it as a shield, as if somehow vellum and leather could protect her against such a force of nature. Aveline dropped low, nearly into a split in some arcane defensive posture and she had to bite her lower lip just to keep her dignity.
Aveline flowed out of that with alarming grace, her tunic straining against her chest. With her shield thrown wide, her blade upraised, every muscle stood out with perfect clarity, the only thing marring it were those filthy, terrible rags. Bethany had to fight the urge to encourage the seams to split and the fabric to part. She yearned to tear them free, to set that beauty loose.
Left hand clutching the book, her right hand balled in her skirts. It was just too much to bear. Just that touch, her fist through fabric, nearly made her cry aloud. Biting down, grinding her teeth, she barely managed to pull her hand away. She'd much rather pull away the skirts, but she couldn't. Not here. Not now. But soon - very, very soon.
Aveline lashed out with her blade, her tunic pulling taut against her chest and stomach.
She reached for her staff, fingers wrapping around the well worn wood. She needed to go. Now.
Aveline paused, sword level and then lowering. Her eyebrow arched speculatively.
Did she know?
“Bethany?” Aveline asked. It sounded like surprise and suspicion in her voice.
“um... yes Aveline?”
Aveline cocked a hip and rested on her sword hilt. “Would you care to spar?”
A Healthy Dose of Exercise (4/?) - Bethany/Aveline
anonymous
October 19 2011, 02:29:11 UTC
“What?” It wasn't that she hadn't heard the question, but the thought of facing off against Aveline right now thrilled her and terrified her in ways that made it nigh impossible to think clearly. Still, the question still hung there, just like the rivulets of sweat dripping from Aveline's hair.
“Sparring.” Aveline picked up a loose roll of canvas and began winding it around her sword, like she would do when she squared off against her sister. “Your magic is powerful, but you need to able to defend yourself if someone gets in close. That Coterie thug nearly got you last time.”
Bethany blanched slightly at the memory, of the Coterie getting past Ahtya and slipping under one of her spells. He'd been fast, too fast to summon up any defenses. She'd barely managed to turn his blade before Aveline came crashing through like rogue comet. She caught the bastard with the edge of her shield and then deprived him of his head with a stroke of her blade.
Saved her life - and changed it. That was the moment she saw Aveline not just as a friend but as a beautiful woman. A vision of pure, glorious feminine power.
The power that was on such lazy display in front of her right now, all glistening muscles and barely contained power. Facing off against her? Right now? “Maybe... maybe later, Aveline?”
“What's wrong with right now?”
“Just a little … distracted. Not quite... focused.” Well, on anything but you.
“Best time.” Aveline's blade flicked up like something living. “Defend yourself.”
“Aveline!?” She brought her staff up just in time to deflect the first blow. The second she managed to turn but the third struck at an angle that knocked the staff from her fingers.
“You can do better.” Aveline smiled encouragingly. “Come on. Pick it up.”
“Aveline, please... maybe later...”
The brows knitted and she pointed her sword to the staff. “Bethany. Pick it up.”
She bobbed a quick curtsey and snatched her staff from the ground. Swallowing hard, she dropped into one of the defensive stances her sister had taught her.
“Better!” Aveline smiled and came in low, legs tensing under her leggings. It was hard to focus on anything but them, but she did her best, blocking the first few blows. She moved her feet, knowing she was being driven around the yard but unable to take her mind off of Aveline long enough to take the initiative. The light glinting off her sweaty arms or the way her tunic rode up to flash some taut stomach would ruin her faltering focus. Despite it all, she managed to truly turn a blow, but the view of Aveline's backside as she drove the blade away utterly ruined her concentration.
Aveline recovered, body uncoiling like a spring. Her sword caught her staff from underneath and ripped it clean out of her hands. It spun away and Bethany was twisted around just from momentum. Her footing, never good to begin with, failed her and she fell to a knee, her back to Aveline.
She could feel her standing behind her, so proud and strong. “Good, but you need to follow through better. Take advantage of the weakness you created.”
“Yes. Yes... definitely,” she said, breathing hard and not just from sparring.
“Come on, try again.”
“I'd rather not...”
“Bethany. Get up. Try again.” Aveline cracked the flat of her blade across her ass. The sudden blow sent a terrific shock through her body and she had to bite down on her lower lip to keep herself from crying out. She suddenly had to tug at her corset just to catch her breath.
She swallowed hard, trying to gather herself and get some semblance of control over her racing thoughts. But control eluded her, slipping through her fingers like the dusty soil of the backyard. Instead, all she could think about was that sword and how much better it would be if it was Aveline's hand. If Aveline lifted her up, lifted her skirts and just bent her over her knee. The desire to blurt it all out, her obsessions, her viewings, all of it.
Aveline slapped her blade across her ass again, this time the angle taking a much more intimate twist.
Re: A Healthy Dose of Exercise (5/?) - Bethany/Aveline
anonymous
October 20 2011, 05:08:20 UTC
Aveline's sword cracking against her ass and thighs like that was just too much for Bethany's overtaxed nerves. Her control slipped and she couldn't stop the little moan that slipped past her lips. She bit down hard, squelching the rest of it. It wasn't fair. She shouldn't have to endure this.
“Bethany,” Aveline ordered. “Get. Up.”
The blade cracked against her ass again.
Something inside her snapped.
Bethany rolled forward, reaching for her staff. She wrapped her left hand around it, planting the end in the hard earth of the backyard and using her momentum and desperation to lever herself back to her feet. Spinning away, she wrapped her other hand around the haft and dropped into an en garde postion.
“Good.” Aveline smiled, the curl of her lips sending sweat trickling down Bethany's forehead. “Let's see you in action.”
“You want to see what I can do?” Bethany panted through parted lips.
Aveline's smile widened and she gestured with her sword.
Bethany bit her lower lip and stared at the taller, more powerful woman standing just feet away. Aveline, her body coiled like a spring, ready to strike. They rays of the sun caressing those gorgeous arms. The wind playing with a few strands of red hair that'd escaped her braid. Standing there. Waiting for her.
She charged.
There was no scream, no war cry, just silent, needful speed.
She threw herself into the first overhand blow, putting enough into to drive Aveline back. A second, vicious swing followed, aiming for her legs. Aveline simply sprung out of the way, those powerful legs keeping her out of her reach. Her third blow was turned by her shield, the fourth deflected away.
With a hard, high thrust, Aveline started to take back control, her power overwhelming Bethany's speed. Bethany found herself being driven back again, Aveline's blows coming fast and sure. It took all her skill to even block them now, and each time the blade came closer and her grip weakened.
Panic and desperation started to take root when she saw it.
She'd studied Aveline enough to know how she moved. She'd studied every line of her perfect body, every move of her muscles. As Aveline drew back her sword, she suddenly knew what Aveline what Aveline's next move would be. It would look like she would be coming in high, but she'd curl her arm just so and strike for her body. The blow would be devastating, it'd have her on her knees again, defeated.
Bethany struck.
Dropping the head of her staff under Aveline's guard, she drove it into her stomach. It was like hitting a stone wall, but even Aveline doubled over. This time she followed through, slashing at Aveline's sword hand and sending her sword skittering to the ground. She tried to recover, but Bethany would have none of it. She lashed out with the staff, catching the taller woman under her booted feet and spilling her onto the ground.
She followed her down, pinning her shoulders to the earth with her staff and all the weight in her slight frame.
Aveline looked stunned, but the look of confusion turned into a smile. “Excellently done.”
Bethany barely heard the words, her mind too distracted by the powerful woman she was straddling. She was so close - so close she could feel the tremble of her flanks as she drew in breath. The tightly coiled power of her shoulders, tensing beneath her hands. Her scent, a mix of sweat and leather and armor polish mingled with something so undeniably feminine assailed her. She was this close to Aveline. So close she could touch - and now it wasn't enough.
“Bethany.”
Bethany took a deep breath, tightening her thighs around Aveline's sides. The other woman was the stronger, but she had the advantage.
“Bethany?” Aveline's eyes widened.
“I win.” She said, grinning.
“Yes, you did.” Aveline replied, looking relieved.
“I claim a forfeit.”
“A forfeit?” Aveline laughed. “What would...”
Bethany didn't let her finish, lunging forward and kissing her Aveline hard.
A Healthy Dose of Exercise (6/?) - Bethany/Aveline
anonymous
October 24 2011, 00:43:13 UTC
Bethany threw her whole body into kissing Aveline into submission. She kept her weight on the staff, pinning Aveline to the earth while she laid every ounce of frustration, every ounce of desire and arousal into the redhead's lips. At first, it was like kissing a stone for as much as her lips moved. But slowly, they softened, unable or unwilling to resist her any longer. Finally, she pulled back, chest heaving as she sucked in greedy breaths of air.
“Bethany?” Aveline gasped, her cheeks flushed as dark as her hair.
“Yes Aveline?” she purred, leaning in to kiss the hard line of Aveline's shoulder. She tasted of sweat and lavender. So she was using Athya's birthday gift. How excellent for everyone. Her kisses trailed down to the hollow of Aveline's throat.
“What do you think you're doing?”
Her lips reached the collar of Aveline's tunic. The linen was soaked with sweat and reeked of salt which were enough to put her off of it. But that it obscured the rest of Aveline was more than she should bear. Placing a kiss right at where flesh met shirt, she flashed a smile up at Aveline.
It would be such a shame to waste such a line as that.
“This.”
She slid her hands down to the collar of the shirt and augmenting her own strength with the power of her will, she pulled down. The linen gave way like sodden paper, baring her to her belly.
Aveline made the cutest little eep as she did it.
Giggling softly, she started kissing her way down the newly bared flesh. Her lips caressed the swell of her breasts, stopping only briefly at the corset holding them in place. She played her fingertips over it, a confection of green cotton as smooth as silk. Because of the quality of the make, it was treated far more kindly as she simply pulled the thin laces from their grommets.
“Bethany!” Aveline's voice was insistent. She reveled in how she'd soon be calling her name in another way. Smiling, she flipped the bit of lace up at Aveline and tossed open the corset. Her breath caught in her throat as Aveline's breasts were just as gorgeous as she'd imagined. Proud and creamy and topped with perfect pink tips.
“BETHANY!”
“I'm busy!” she shot back, flicking the tip of her tongue against that pink nub.
“BETHANY! Not here!”
She snapped her head up, eyes wide with surprise. Aveline chose that moment to strike, exploding upwards and rolling her onto her back. Now it was Aveline who had her pinned. Aveline who was straddling her waist, her chest bare and gleaming in the sunlight. Whatever happened next, that vision would be seared into her mind's eye forever.
“I liked this shirt,” Aveline said, mournfully tugging at the ruins of it.
“It was... er... getting in the way?”
“So it seems.” Aveline sighed. Impressively. “You could have just asked.”
“Asked?”
“Bethany Hawke.” Aveline leaned forward, dropping her hands to either side of Bethany's head, boxing her in. “I may not always be the brightest torch in the box, but I'd have to be an utter fool to not realize your real intent in watching me train.”
“You did?” Bethany's voice near cracked.
“No one, and I mean no one, finds aesthetic Orlesian philosophy that arousing.”
“Oh.”
Aveline grinned crookedly and shifted all her weight to one hand. The other, freed from it's work, drifted down to Bethany's chest. Two fingers hooked in the top of her blouse, tugging down on it. “I enjoyed the attention.” The muscles of Aveline's shoulder bunched and suddenly the front of her blouse was no longer much in the way of cover. “I kept hoping you might say something, might come out from behind that book. But you didn't.”
“I... I didn't know.”
“Ignorance is no defense. You've been a naughty girl, Bethany.”
“I have?” Bethany looked up, tracing the curve of Aveline's smile with her eyes. “Oh. I have.”
She'd been tempted to throw it away, but while the words had little use, the book itself did. It was very sizable, three handsbreadths across and and nearly three high. It was the perfect cover for the unobtrusive enjoyment of Aveline's training sessions.
Flipping the book open to the chapter on the many and perfidious sins of seasoned meat, she settled back into the window seat to watch. Aveline always began the same way. First, she would stretch. Her shoulders first and then her arms, twisting around and reaching behind her loosen up those powerful muscles. Next came the leg stretches, moving from side to side and bending at the knees. Luck was with her today, for her deep knee bends were done facing away from her, allowing her an incredible view of her backside. Athya even joked about it, saying it likely could stop an arrow at twenty paces. She never saw the humor in it. Harming such a bottom would be sacrilege.
Usually, Aveline would move to sword work, but today was a truly lucky day. Not only would she be free of the house soon, but apparently Aveline's back was stiff. She twisted and bent, reaching for her toes and then stretching up to her full height. As she bent backwards, reaching for the sky, she caught a glimpse of the roundness of her breasts beneath her tunic. Her mouth went suddenly dry and her hands tightened on the old monk's ramblings.
Apparently done, she tightened her shield and drew her sword. Standing in the middle of the yard, she went entirely still, only the rise and fall of her chest distinguishing her from a statue. She did not move, did not tremble in the slightest. Aveline was centering. Bethany had to disguise her interest as something, so the swordswoman was explaining the philosophy and theory of swordplay. Of centering oneself and in the process, finding where the other was weak and off balance. The art of picking it out, finding the moment where they decided to move and striking before they could. It was similar to her studies of magic, and the philosophy behind it had even helped her with her art. And in the process, it had given her a greater understanding of Aveline.
She'd learned the tell. Aveline's jaw would tense just ever so slightly and the muscles of her left shoulder would bunch. Her strike would follow right after. The jaw clenched. Her shoulder tightened. And Aveline turned from statue to whirlwind.
Reply
So she watched as Aveline flowed through the garden like liquid fire. Blade swept high, shield low. Thrust and parry, advance and retreat. It was a formal dance done with such primal passion that sucked her in. Soon, sweat was pouring off Aveline's body. Her arms glistened, her chest heaved under a clinging tunic and her skin flushed with exertion. That tunic clung to every graceful curve, showing off her glorious form.
Bethany's breath quickened and her cheeks flushed as dark as Aveline's. Her heart raced as Aveline twisted and parried and feinted. She clutched at the book, raising it as a shield, as if somehow vellum and leather could protect her against such a force of nature. Aveline dropped low, nearly into a split in some arcane defensive posture and she had to bite her lower lip just to keep her dignity.
Aveline flowed out of that with alarming grace, her tunic straining against her chest. With her shield thrown wide, her blade upraised, every muscle stood out with perfect clarity, the only thing marring it were those filthy, terrible rags. Bethany had to fight the urge to encourage the seams to split and the fabric to part. She yearned to tear them free, to set that beauty loose.
Left hand clutching the book, her right hand balled in her skirts. It was just too much to bear. Just that touch, her fist through fabric, nearly made her cry aloud. Biting down, grinding her teeth, she barely managed to pull her hand away. She'd much rather pull away the skirts, but she couldn't. Not here. Not now. But soon - very, very soon.
Aveline lashed out with her blade, her tunic pulling taut against her chest and stomach.
She reached for her staff, fingers wrapping around the well worn wood. She needed to go. Now.
Aveline paused, sword level and then lowering. Her eyebrow arched speculatively.
Did she know?
“Bethany?” Aveline asked. It sounded like surprise and suspicion in her voice.
“um... yes Aveline?”
Aveline cocked a hip and rested on her sword hilt. “Would you care to spar?”
Reply
Reply
“Sparring.” Aveline picked up a loose roll of canvas and began winding it around her sword, like she would do when she squared off against her sister. “Your magic is powerful, but you need to able to defend yourself if someone gets in close. That Coterie thug nearly got you last time.”
Bethany blanched slightly at the memory, of the Coterie getting past Ahtya and slipping under one of her spells. He'd been fast, too fast to summon up any defenses. She'd barely managed to turn his blade before Aveline came crashing through like rogue comet. She caught the bastard with the edge of her shield and then deprived him of his head with a stroke of her blade.
Saved her life - and changed it. That was the moment she saw Aveline not just as a friend but as a beautiful woman. A vision of pure, glorious feminine power.
The power that was on such lazy display in front of her right now, all glistening muscles and barely contained power. Facing off against her? Right now? “Maybe... maybe later, Aveline?”
“What's wrong with right now?”
“Just a little … distracted. Not quite... focused.” Well, on anything but you.
“Best time.” Aveline's blade flicked up like something living. “Defend yourself.”
“Aveline!?” She brought her staff up just in time to deflect the first blow. The second she managed to turn but the third struck at an angle that knocked the staff from her fingers.
“You can do better.” Aveline smiled encouragingly. “Come on. Pick it up.”
“Aveline, please... maybe later...”
The brows knitted and she pointed her sword to the staff. “Bethany. Pick it up.”
She bobbed a quick curtsey and snatched her staff from the ground. Swallowing hard, she dropped into one of the defensive stances her sister had taught her.
“Better!” Aveline smiled and came in low, legs tensing under her leggings. It was hard to focus on anything but them, but she did her best, blocking the first few blows. She moved her feet, knowing she was being driven around the yard but unable to take her mind off of Aveline long enough to take the initiative. The light glinting off her sweaty arms or the way her tunic rode up to flash some taut stomach would ruin her faltering focus. Despite it all, she managed to truly turn a blow, but the view of Aveline's backside as she drove the blade away utterly ruined her concentration.
Aveline recovered, body uncoiling like a spring. Her sword caught her staff from underneath and ripped it clean out of her hands. It spun away and Bethany was twisted around just from momentum. Her footing, never good to begin with, failed her and she fell to a knee, her back to Aveline.
She could feel her standing behind her, so proud and strong. “Good, but you need to follow through better. Take advantage of the weakness you created.”
“Yes. Yes... definitely,” she said, breathing hard and not just from sparring.
“Come on, try again.”
“I'd rather not...”
“Bethany. Get up. Try again.” Aveline cracked the flat of her blade across her ass. The sudden blow sent a terrific shock through her body and she had to bite down on her lower lip to keep herself from crying out. She suddenly had to tug at her corset just to catch her breath.
She swallowed hard, trying to gather herself and get some semblance of control over her racing thoughts. But control eluded her, slipping through her fingers like the dusty soil of the backyard. Instead, all she could think about was that sword and how much better it would be if it was Aveline's hand. If Aveline lifted her up, lifted her skirts and just bent her over her knee. The desire to blurt it all out, her obsessions, her viewings, all of it.
Aveline slapped her blade across her ass again, this time the angle taking a much more intimate twist.
Reply
Reply
“Bethany,” Aveline ordered. “Get. Up.”
The blade cracked against her ass again.
Something inside her snapped.
Bethany rolled forward, reaching for her staff. She wrapped her left hand around it, planting the end in the hard earth of the backyard and using her momentum and desperation to lever herself back to her feet. Spinning away, she wrapped her other hand around the haft and dropped into an en garde postion.
“Good.” Aveline smiled, the curl of her lips sending sweat trickling down Bethany's forehead. “Let's see you in action.”
“You want to see what I can do?” Bethany panted through parted lips.
Aveline's smile widened and she gestured with her sword.
Bethany bit her lower lip and stared at the taller, more powerful woman standing just feet away. Aveline, her body coiled like a spring, ready to strike. They rays of the sun caressing those gorgeous arms. The wind playing with a few strands of red hair that'd escaped her braid. Standing there. Waiting for her.
She charged.
There was no scream, no war cry, just silent, needful speed.
She threw herself into the first overhand blow, putting enough into to drive Aveline back. A second, vicious swing followed, aiming for her legs. Aveline simply sprung out of the way, those powerful legs keeping her out of her reach. Her third blow was turned by her shield, the fourth deflected away.
With a hard, high thrust, Aveline started to take back control, her power overwhelming Bethany's speed. Bethany found herself being driven back again, Aveline's blows coming fast and sure. It took all her skill to even block them now, and each time the blade came closer and her grip weakened.
Panic and desperation started to take root when she saw it.
She'd studied Aveline enough to know how she moved. She'd studied every line of her perfect body, every move of her muscles. As Aveline drew back her sword, she suddenly knew what Aveline what Aveline's next move would be. It would look like she would be coming in high, but she'd curl her arm just so and strike for her body. The blow would be devastating, it'd have her on her knees again, defeated.
Bethany struck.
Dropping the head of her staff under Aveline's guard, she drove it into her stomach. It was like hitting a stone wall, but even Aveline doubled over. This time she followed through, slashing at Aveline's sword hand and sending her sword skittering to the ground. She tried to recover, but Bethany would have none of it. She lashed out with the staff, catching the taller woman under her booted feet and spilling her onto the ground.
She followed her down, pinning her shoulders to the earth with her staff and all the weight in her slight frame.
Aveline looked stunned, but the look of confusion turned into a smile. “Excellently done.”
Bethany barely heard the words, her mind too distracted by the powerful woman she was straddling. She was so close - so close she could feel the tremble of her flanks as she drew in breath. The tightly coiled power of her shoulders, tensing beneath her hands. Her scent, a mix of sweat and leather and armor polish mingled with something so undeniably feminine assailed her. She was this close to Aveline. So close she could touch - and now it wasn't enough.
“Bethany.”
Bethany took a deep breath, tightening her thighs around Aveline's sides. The other woman was the stronger, but she had the advantage.
“Bethany?” Aveline's eyes widened.
“I win.” She said, grinning.
“Yes, you did.” Aveline replied, looking relieved.
“I claim a forfeit.”
“A forfeit?” Aveline laughed. “What would...”
Bethany didn't let her finish, lunging forward and kissing her Aveline hard.
Reply
Reply
Reply
“Bethany?” Aveline gasped, her cheeks flushed as dark as her hair.
“Yes Aveline?” she purred, leaning in to kiss the hard line of Aveline's shoulder. She tasted of sweat and lavender. So she was using Athya's birthday gift. How excellent for everyone. Her kisses trailed down to the hollow of Aveline's throat.
“What do you think you're doing?”
Her lips reached the collar of Aveline's tunic. The linen was soaked with sweat and reeked of salt which were enough to put her off of it. But that it obscured the rest of Aveline was more than she should bear. Placing a kiss right at where flesh met shirt, she flashed a smile up at Aveline.
It would be such a shame to waste such a line as that.
“This.”
She slid her hands down to the collar of the shirt and augmenting her own strength with the power of her will, she pulled down. The linen gave way like sodden paper, baring her to her belly.
Aveline made the cutest little eep as she did it.
Giggling softly, she started kissing her way down the newly bared flesh. Her lips caressed the swell of her breasts, stopping only briefly at the corset holding them in place. She played her fingertips over it, a confection of green cotton as smooth as silk. Because of the quality of the make, it was treated far more kindly as she simply pulled the thin laces from their grommets.
“Bethany!” Aveline's voice was insistent. She reveled in how she'd soon be calling her name in another way. Smiling, she flipped the bit of lace up at Aveline and tossed open the corset. Her breath caught in her throat as Aveline's breasts were just as gorgeous as she'd imagined. Proud and creamy and topped with perfect pink tips.
“BETHANY!”
“I'm busy!” she shot back, flicking the tip of her tongue against that pink nub.
“BETHANY! Not here!”
She snapped her head up, eyes wide with surprise. Aveline chose that moment to strike, exploding upwards and rolling her onto her back. Now it was Aveline who had her pinned. Aveline who was straddling her waist, her chest bare and gleaming in the sunlight. Whatever happened next, that vision would be seared into her mind's eye forever.
“I liked this shirt,” Aveline said, mournfully tugging at the ruins of it.
“It was... er... getting in the way?”
“So it seems.” Aveline sighed. Impressively. “You could have just asked.”
“Asked?”
“Bethany Hawke.” Aveline leaned forward, dropping her hands to either side of Bethany's head, boxing her in. “I may not always be the brightest torch in the box, but I'd have to be an utter fool to not realize your real intent in watching me train.”
“You did?” Bethany's voice near cracked.
“No one, and I mean no one, finds aesthetic Orlesian philosophy that arousing.”
“Oh.”
Aveline grinned crookedly and shifted all her weight to one hand. The other, freed from it's work, drifted down to Bethany's chest. Two fingers hooked in the top of her blouse, tugging down on it. “I enjoyed the attention.” The muscles of Aveline's shoulder bunched and suddenly the front of her blouse was no longer much in the way of cover. “I kept hoping you might say something, might come out from behind that book. But you didn't.”
“I... I didn't know.”
“Ignorance is no defense. You've been a naughty girl, Bethany.”
“I have?” Bethany looked up, tracing the curve of Aveline's smile with her eyes. “Oh. I have.”
“Yes. And naughty girls get punished.”
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment