She should have known that it was far too good to last for long and that her disguise wasn't good enough to last for long either. There was only so much on could do to disguise being a girl. Certainly she chest was strapped down and her curly hair tucked into a cap and she had long since swapped her skirts for britches. But there was no disguising
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Perhaps she had also expected the captain of this ship to be a man, but the figure in the door was fairly obviously a feminine one, dressed all in pitch black, shirt and coat and breeches and boots, blonde hair tied at the nape of her neck. She was young - older than Pasha by at least a decade, but younger than the grizzled and harsh men who made up her crew. Her skin was weather-tanned, and there were a few fine lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth, but it was not difficult to imagine she might have been some young eligible maiden at one time, perhaps a highborn lady ( ... )
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She paused for a moment herself, only to shed her boots; and then she smiled just a little and reached up to let her hair down, loosening the tie that had held it in place, letting it spill around her shoulders. Like this she looked softer, feminine.
"You didn't answer my question," she murmured, sinking onto the edge of the bed and leaning in to kiss Pasha's neck, shivering with the surge of desire through her just from that. "Have you ever been with a woman?"
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But as a little shiver ran down the length of her spine at the kisses on her neck she couldn't stop the thoughts from flying out of her head. It had always been the same, it was far too distracting for her to concentrate properly. "Y-Yes, I hawe." She answered this time with a small gasp.
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Pasha's admission surprised her, and for a moment she straightened up to look her in the eyes, a little startled. And then she smiled, and laughed very softly. "Then this won't be new to you. Good."
She returned to kissing and suckling on her neck, one hand tugging on Pasha's shirt, pulling it up enough that she could slip her fingers underneath and just touch, feel her skin. Her hand continued further upward, stroking slowly with slim, rough fingers, until she brushed against the strips of fabric Pasha had been using to bind her breasts. She smiled just a little into the curve of her neck at that. That wouldn't do at all. At least for the moment, they were both women here.
"Undress for me," she commanded quietly, sitting up to give Pasha room.
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