Atlas (The Unknown Island)

[Sateema Lunasi]

Delphine.

The flurried heat of their passion is finished, and with an almost wicked grin, Delphine unlocks the manacles that bind Aragon's wrists at his back. Gingerly, she rubs the slightly pink spot they have made on the skin of his wrists.

"Forgive me then," she whispers. "Perhaps I am too bold. Tonight has brought about a strange string of events. I wanted you to come here so that I could know you better. I have taken you as a bed partner, and you have accepted but I am sure you know that my choice of you is not a usual one. Most in my class would choose only a courtier. But I am not like most, Aragon."

She smiles warmly at him, and says,
"If I am to keep my position in the castle, and you are to keep your head, we must either keep our coupling a secret, or I must put you in the position of a courtier. Either choice is a deceptive one, but I would like to have you as my lover...and my friend. If you wish, you may leave and I shall pretend we never met. Simple as that. If you wish to remain at my side, we must be secretive, or I can pass you off as a courtier, perhaps of a different land. it has been done before with effect. What say you?"

 

[Guest]

Aragon

Putting his hands in front of him rubbing them subconsciouly Aragon ponders what Delphine has just said. It is out of the question that he wishes to just leave and pretend like they never met, because he knows that it is not possible. There is nothing left for outside this castle.

Taking her hands and planting a firm kiss on her lips

"I am in no hurry to leave your side. There is nothing left for me outside this castle, I grow tired of being a fishmonger. I know it is unwise and perhaps a little foolhardy, but if it pleases you I think I would like to become your courtier."

 

[Sateema Lunasi]

Delphine.

Then you must be an actor, Aragon. You must fit in with the court. I can tell them you are a distant cousin of my father and that will be enough for the Queen, but you must look and act the part of a courtier. If you are a success, Aragon, it will give you a new life. If you fail, then we are both damned to hell. Do you understand?"

She does not wait for his answer, fearing he will change his mind. She wants Aragon at her side.

"I will have proper clothing made for you. Take this and procure a fine horse." she picks a guilded candlestick from the fire mantle and gives it to him easily. "There should be enough coin left to help you along."

She thinks a moment and says,

"I will make you appear to be a new person."

In one night I shall change three lives. Leylandia will have work in the castle, stability, respect and opportunities. Imoshen will have love. Aragon will have a new life as a rich man, a courtier. She thinks. The thought makes her smile.

"We shall get our story straight then. You are Aragon, distant cousin of my father, Lord Jirin of Ilset. Those lands are distant enough and eccentric. If you falter, they will assume it is your 'country noble' lineage. Say as little as you can get away with. You shouldn't have to answer too many questions. Our Queen detests gossip mongers."

Delphine kisses his cheek,
"Procure the horse in the morning...for now...will you sleep beside me?"

Delphine glances at the soft feather mat that has been abandoned by Imoshen. Leylandia is asleep on the bed. She takes Aragon's hand...

 

[Hawthorne]

OOC: I'd love for you to play Brendel misterK. My only request is a whole heap of romance. I wanted to try something sentimental as well as sexual this time. Are you prepared to be someone's tru love?

IC:
"Come Imoshen, let us find you something to wear and something to eat. Then I shall find you a bed to safely sleep in." He says softly. Imoshen detects a note of sadness in his voice and feels within herself a fleeting touch of guilt for returning to him his painful memories.
He makes no move to take her arm, simple steps past her, toward the back of the room where thick orange drapery hide a honeycomb of rooms from prying eyes. She follows him without question, knowing intrinsically it is not only safe, but right to do so.
Beneath her feet the tiles gradually grow rougher, eventually bleeding into chapped stone. The gorgeous pavillion she had first been brough to opens up into a chasm of ceilingless cells, quiet except for the flap of the red sails.
Imoshen pauses only once and it is to look at these. Since the plague there was only one boat which came near to the snow lands and it glided on sails such as these. Hiding amongst the rocky outcrops with two seal skins wrapped tautly around her girlish frame she had studied the intruders carefully as they briefly touched down on her snow laden shore. The boy, his back to her, put his hand into the water and flinched from the shocking cold of it. But rather than pull away, he emersed his other hand likewise, removing them both a few seconds later to find them coated with tiny white crystals.
"Imoshen," Brendel says, reaching out instinctively and placing his hand on her shoulder. In her mind she flinches, but her body shows no such hesitancy. She draws closer to him inside a small cell completely surrounded by diamond pain windows. It is not large, barely containing a circular white bed, but the light slanting in at odd angles makes for a spectacle of sun and cold glass.
"Wait here, I will return with some clothes." Brendel says.
She does as she is told, sitting at the edge of the bed with her hands folded in her lap, eyes lowered, gold lashes fanning her cheeks.
She loses herself in the surreal funk that has beset her from day one. A mixture of fear, of excitement, of strength, and of vulnerability.
Brendel returns, kneeling in front of her and muttering something under his breath.
"What? What is it?" Imoshen asks, startled by his sudden appearance. His thumbs graze her cheeks then pull away, a glistened surface on the pads.
"Why are you crying?" He asks.
Imoshen touches the spots where his own caress has fleetingly warmed. She feels the dampness and when she blinks her lashes are heavy. She does not know how to explain this to him.
"I... I..." She stutters, once again meeting the bright, emotional violet of his eyes. Nervously she reachs her hand to his, sliding her slim white fingers around his rougher golden palm and guidng it upward to the space below her left breast. She leaves it there, his heavy palm on the downy fur of her dress, and gradually he relaxes into it. He makes no advances for he understands the very thing she is trying to show him.
"Your heart beat." He murmurs. He furrows his brow, shakes his head a little. Beneath his touch the thud of her heart is erratic. Deep and heavy one moment, slow and laboured the next. The more he rests his hand against her rib cage the more he notices the fluctuations and very fragility of the organ.
"Please, tell no one." IMoshen whispers. "I will be ordered from the city. Banished back to the snow lands to sleep with the rest of the Vaars. Speak nothing, promise me you will speak nothing. I can not go back there..."
"I swear." Brendel replies emphatically. Then, after a slight pause. "What time is left?"
"Very little," she tells him. "Perhaps days, perhaps weeks... Not long enough." She searches his face once again. "You will not tell?"
"I will not say a word." He vows it on the graves of his own people. Imoshen's tears soften, she smiles a little, the first smile he has seen.
She is the last of the Vaars, somehow stealing more years than the rest of her unfortunate people. He vows to protect her, vows to keep her safe, however futile the act might seem in the face of her impending death.

 

[misterK]

Brendel

OOC: I'll do my best to give you all the romance you need and then some more Hawthorne

IC:Brendel Leaves his hand on Imoshen's heart a few moments longer, feeling the erratic heartbeat as his own, feeling it leave a permanent mark on his palm. Finally he withdraws it and his eyes sad looks deep into Imoshen's eyes. He sees a kindred spirit there. Indomitable will that has been assaulted from all sides by odds impossible to survive. And yet, both of them have survived. But for how long?

He can still feel the weakness of her heart in his palm and suddenly he shivers. "Imoshen," he says, "I vow to you that no one shall know your secret. And I vow to you by the blood of my ancestors that no harm shall come to you so long as I draw breath."

He then straightens up and adds: "It is time for you to sleep now. I shall not be far." As he turns around to leave the cell she calls back to him: "Will you stay with me tonight?" Her voice unsure, still not completely trusting him.

He nods. "I shall sit by the door and keep you company fair one. Sleep now." He sits down to one side of the door, propping his sword against the cold stone wall. He waits for Imoshen to settle on the pillows before blowing the lantern out. Then he begins to sing. It is a song from his people and his voice rises melodious and soothing to envelop Imoshen with silky quietness.

 

[Dosmo]

Aragon

His mind a confused jumble of thoughts Aragon lets himself be led to the bed on the floor by the fireplace. What did he just say, he is really going to change his life for this woman. Suddenly this dosent matter anymore because he is once again in the wonderful embrace of Lady Delphine. Together they lay on the feather bed, Aragon gently stroking her naked thigh, he pulls her close to him, he wishes this moment could last forever.

 

[Sateema Lunasi]

Delphine.

As Delphine snuggles close in the crook of Aragon's arm, she realizes that she must be insane. This man is a stranger. They have barely spoken a few words to each other.

But that does not matter. She sense he is pure of heart. As she drifts into long awaited sleep, she feels Artagon's grip tighten around her and she smiles. Yes, this is right. She can feel it.

She sleeps, deeply and awaits her questioning of the Vaar, Imoshen. She is curios of Imoshen's story.

 

[Hawthorne]

It is the first light of a ghostly dawn that disturbs Imoshen from sleep. The room her eyes become accustomed to is dusted in silver, silent but for the flap of sails and the distant rush of the Atlas ocean.
She shifts, sitting up and feeling, as always, the erratic thump of her heart shaking off its steady sleepytime rhythm.
Across the room Brendel's large form is cupped in the palm of a rough pile of pillows. She smiles a little at the sound of his husky snores and at the ever increasing dip of his head on his shoulder.
Though she should feel imprisoned she instead feels grateful. For the first time in her life the presence of another is warm and safe rather than hostile.
Being careful not to make a sound, she steps out of bed, walking very quietly to his side and kneeling beside him. His eyelids, perhaps, flutter a little, but the resonance of his snores remain unchanged.
Imoshen studies his face, the strong lines, angled jaw, Roman nose, proud features for an intensely masculine man. But below this, beneath the light curl of his earlobe the skin is soft, smooth as a baby's and skirted by the flicked up tendrils of his downy hair.
She moves her gaze further, confident in her perusal now that he sleeps. She touches upon him with visual fingertips, recognising one flat nipple exposed by his parted shirt, on the hard musculature of his olive coloured chest. Leaning in a little, she pushes her hair to one side and breaths deeply, closing her eyes to savour the musky aroma from his nape. Smell of skin, smell of sweat, smell of leather, beyond this, his hair, washed in herbs, his clothes dried on stones, his sleep.
For Imoshen, it is a potent blend, unconsciously stimulating and swelling the folds of her sex. She is surprised by the strength of her reaction, but not averse to it.

 

[Sateema Lunasi]

Delphine.

As morning's glorious light spilled through the windows of Delphine's chamber, she opened her eyes to see Aragon, readying himself for his difficult day ahead. She said very little, simply smiling. As he started to leave, before the castle came alive with curious servants and courtiers, she kissed his full lips, enjoying the sweetness of that kiss.

And then she explained to him,

"Aragon, our Queen is holding a simple reception in two days time as celebration of the new moon. It is a regular affair of course, but it would be a splendid time to introduce you to court. You will need to be ready then. i know it is not long, but we can do this. I shall inform the Queen that I have invited a guest and gain her permission. Take this..." Delphine scribbled a name and a makeshift map on a sheet of parchment, then gave it to Aragon. "He is a taylor, and he can outfit you properly. Simply tell him you need outfitted for the Mea Luna Ball. He will take care of it from there. You must go now. I will see you in two nights then?"

She saw Aragon leave, a new light in his eyes. He deserved better than what life gave him. She would give him that new life.

Turning back to the bed where Leylandia lay sleeping, she smiled. Leylandia was a sweet girl and Delphine looked forward to spending time with the girl. Their work would begin today, but first... Delphine leaned to plant a lingering kiss on her maid's cheek. The girl stirred.

Leylandia's sleeping face was flushed and Delphine wondered what kind of dreams the girl was having.

"Leylandia?" Delphine whispered into the girl's ear. "It is morning, my dear. Time to wake now..."

 

[Jeselynn]

Ciowyn

Trotting along the trail and following my very gourgous guardian.

yelling up for a halt, and seeing something in the clearing to the right.

'i saw something moving' i yelled.

valting down from the horse and jogging into the the clearing to the edge of a pool filled by a small waterfall.

the surface was rippling and bubbling from the fall.. looking closely to the surface. i can see a form moving underneath it's surface...

Moving closer to the edge i can see a wave of pitch black hair

 

[Hawthorne]

Encouraged by his continuing slumber Imoshen reaches out tentatively, touching the hollow in his throat to recognise the steady pulse. His skin is damp, the heat pouring in through the open ceiling has flushed his face and limbs.
Moving with the same silent secrecy she has learnt from isolation, Imoshen lowers her mouth to his throat. She pauses, inches away from contact, to inhale the warm tones of Brendel's scent. His breath falls againast her ear, then her earlobe, then her nape, the back of her neck, the top of her spine as she bows to him, reaching out with a slick tongue tip and tasting the salt of his collarbone.
The softest noise of satisfaction escapes her, there is the crunch of snow in her belly, a glacial movement downward. The cascades of her copper hair burnish his belly, her red, parted lips seeking upward from them and rubbing in small, wet circles over his upper body.
Downy hair upon his sternum, this she puts her cheek to, softer than moss, tickling her nose when she pouts her bottom lip on his hardened nipple. Circles the flat coin of it with tentative licks then enclosing it, and biting into it lightly, aware of the reaction his heart betrays.

 

[Sateema Lunasi]

Delphine.

Hearing leylandia's soft purr of a snore, Delphine smiles warmly and kisses the girl on the cheek, then, in a curios and almost childish movement, kisses leylandia's lips. Soft and warm.

Delphine moves away from the bed and to the armoire, where she takes her time choosing a pale blue gown with white and black ribbons aedging the trim and square neck line. Pinning her mass of silky dark hair up in a long braid wound on the crown of her head, she pins in white Casade flowers to make a wreath, and then fixes tiny abalone shell jewels to her ears.

She would let Leylandia sleep in, for she would not need her help until the afternoon. With a raise of her eyebrow, Delphine decided that on her journey out, she would remember to find her little maid a suitable gown for the Queen's ball, and perhaps one for Imoshen as well...

Lacing the plackets of her bodice that pushed her breasts up to the fabric of the neckline, she departed the warm chamber and ordered Aidan to saddle her mare and send a guard to escort her to the market.

She would return by afternoon, and then perhaps she would question Imoshen.

 

[Hawthorne]

Imoshen senses her own dying heart coming into rhythm with Brendels. The erratic pulse steadies itself, fear swiftly comforted by the cloak of his ignorance.
What happens to a woman deprived of touch? What happens to a girl who barely remembers the taste, scent, texture of another person's flesh? They are forgotten, left to brown and wilt as would the smallest flower hidden from the sun. Imoshen is not only growing weaker from the plague, but from this isolation.
Though she craves the soft sting of snow and ice, the hollow sound of wind across the ice caps, the salient polar mountains, the rough, husky water, though she searches and strains toward the quiet confines of her home land, the pregnant warmth of human contact invites her away. It is a needy desperation which has driven her here and from her bed to this man's side.
"What am I doing?" She whispers, moving away from him with her five snow white fingers touching her slender throat. The man sleeps, the heart beats, the red sails flap and sort the early morning light.
She stands, turning toward the window and pushing it open on the breath of a bird flock, moving outward to the distant castle. She strips her skirt and top, throwing them behind her before clutching window frame and base in her hands and feet.
She has spent her life scaling the smooth, merciless surfaces. She seeks them now, fingernails where cracks may have them, and brings herself into the open space.
Naked, nipples erect, hair on fire undone by the rising sun, looking for the frost on the air that comes in from the far lands to satisfy her as it always has. Cool her where she is hot and wet. Across canopies of cottage trees and gardens landscaped over many years, she leans out from the window frame, aware of a perpetual dizziness, and inhales the silent cold before the full morning subsumes it.

 

[Jeselynn]

Ciowyn

suddenly the surface burst open sending water splashing everywhere.

A scream broke the silence as my overwhelming form stood over this small meek woman. Pulling her to me and placing my hand over her mouth to stifel her screams.

'we are fine' i yelled to my companion.

Talking quietly to this woman, 'please don't scream, I mean you no harm'

As she settles down, i ask 'if i remove my hand will you stop screaming?'

She nodded her head and as i slowly removed my hand she remained silent. I asked ' Will you speak to me?'

SHe replied, 'i suppose' in a low agitated voice.

 

[Dosmo]

Aragon

Putting on his cloak and stealthy leaving the way he entered Aragon leaves the castle.

Walking the streets of the great city he stops to buy a horse, after some bargaining he buys and beautiful dark brown throughbred, Bringing himself onto the horse he heads of in the direction of the tailor that Delphine said to go see.

 

[misterK]

Brendel

Brendel stirs from his slumber and catches the Imoshen's scent in the air around him. He breathes it in, makes it part of him, wallows in its sweetness and its pungent fragrance.

He frowns then feeling the cold air on his face and his eyes flare open, his hand snatching his sword from where he had propped it against the wall. I one swift motion he is on his feet all senses alert. Then he sees Imoshen, her naked body framed by the morning light, her long limbs clutching the window frame, intent on something from the outside.

He feels desire stir inside him but angrily pushes it back down. This woman needs protection, she needs comfort, not some lusting imbecile. He puts the sword down on the floor and reaches out to Imoshen, gently calling her name, not daring to touch her smooth alabaster skin

 

[lustinginnocence]

Leylandia

Ley stirs in her sleep as she feels Lady Delphine's kiss first on her cheek and then on her lips. She doesn't want to move and lose the comfort she finds herself in. Her dreams are slowly fading away and she tries to hang on to them, refusing to wake up completely.

She can hear Lady Delphine get dressed and leave the room and she opens her eyes. Remembering last nights caresses and her more recent dreams she starts feeling excited again and moistness spread between her legs.

Slowly she lets a hand wander down to her pussy and starts playing with herself, gently rubbing her hand up and down over her opening sex. She thinks of Delphine and wishes she were here as the wave of an orgasm rock her body with delicious shivers of pleasure.

 

[Sateema Lunasi]

Delphine.

It is midmorning, and Delphine has returned sooner than she expected, but the morning had gone well and she had already seen to the first phase of decorating the courtyard for the ball. After she had made sure things were going well, she had taken her horse and a trustworthy guard into the marketplace.

She spent near a full hour thumbing through silks and brocade fabrics to find the dresses she admired. yes, this one would do nicely as a simple day gown for her sweet Leylandia, a simple but elegant dress of cream and lavender with a tiny bit of lace at the hem. It would surely fit.

She chose two gowns for Leylandia, the cream and lavender, and also a simple dove gray shift that had no decoration but would serve as a day dress and work dress. She found herself looking over trunks and displays of soft silk bonnets and kidgloves for Leylandia. She wanted to buy her all these things, to dress her finely and have her as a close friend and equal companion, but that could not happen. She was a servant. Still, Delphine chose a lace trimmed parasol for Leylandia that the girl would love. By the end of her shopping trip, she had bought two dresses for Leylandia, and one simple dress, a very simple and almost shockingly plain tan colored shift for Imoshen. She fancied getting the Vaar a fancy dress just to see what she looked like in it, but something told her the Vaar would be horrified by lace and ribbons.

Returning to her chamber, she places the dresses gently over a chaise lounger and looks toward the bed where she left Leylandia. The girl is pleasuring herself, obviously, and Delphine wondered if she should leave and give the girl privacy. The girl evidently had not realized Delphine had returned.

Delphine could not tear her eyes away though. The girl was truly lovely, and the pink flush on her face made her even more beautiful.

An idea crept through Delphine's mind then and she could not repress it. A smile played over her lips like a playful light. Quietly, she moved to the bed where Leylandia lay with her eyes closed, her hand moving between her legs.

With a perfect grace, Delphine let her fingertips trace a light path of touch over leylandia's thigh.

"I know what it is to be lonely, Leylandia. Let me touch you and you will not be lonely..."

Delphine's hand moves slowly and tenderly to the center of Leylandia's thigh and she finds the girl's wet sex, swollen and already well worked. Sensing no hesitation from the maid, she bends and takes an already erect nipple into her mouth, flickering her tongue against it's pink tip...

 

[Hawthorne]

Imoshen
She hears her name called. Feels that Brendel hovers behind her.
Does he know the reason why she faces the cold, why the confines of this land, these rooms, stifles her? Every time she moves she can feel sweat bead on her skin, her breath and the breathing of those around her is sweet and hot.
As her heart jaggedly cuts a rhythm, blood boils. She keeps it below the surface only through exposure, through naked skin on frost. The Vaars fled from the cold, believing it was the very reason why the wave of death descended. Huddled in their furs, by their fires, they burned to death before their hearts could make a final throb. They did not know that their mother, the frost, ice and snow, was their saviour, their medicine. Albeit, no cure, the bruising frigidity of Vaars land had no ill fortune to give them.
She turns, body cold, nipples erect, to face Brendel. His violet eyes gradually cover the exposed parts of her naked flesh.
He is why she came here. A more rapid death, but a happy one.
She puts her hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she descends. Goose flecked flesh comes into contact with hard warmth.
Without speaking she puts her frosty hands on to his lower belly, sliding beneath the downy fabric of his jerkin and stretching elegantly along the taut abdominal muscles. His gaze drops, his lower lips part a little, the moist inside invites a gentle touch.
Standing on tip toes she looks him eye to eye.
"I will be cold," she says, "but soon you will not notice."
Her lips come into contact, soft, untouched, faintly purple. Plump, subsuming his lower lip in her small mouth, suckling faintly, nipping then withdrawing. A whispery breath before she returns. Thier mouths arc and he takes her cool tongue into his mouth, tentatively tip to tip traces a line, over her teeth and her gums, to the inner wall, its smooth lining.
Imoshen gently tugs him back, using her hands on his slim hips to guide him until her bare back is pressed against the cold stone wall. The rough frost covered slabs brush her bottom to a pinkish shade, satisfying the humid blood as it recedes from his nearness and ebbs back again.
She moves her hands to his back, strokes upward, pooling the material of his jerkin around his shoulders, struggling to map the contours of his body as she would any other terrain. She digs her nails into the flesh, then scours down, softens to a touch like snow and hardens once more. On his shoulder blades, she is merciless, kneading them with her thumbs and scratching up between them to the back of his neck where she pulls on his hair.
He groans, drops his mouth to her nape and is aware of a scent there, an animal arousal she secretes from the pores, great lengths of it following the vague blue veins and ribboning the heaving coils of her scarlet hair.

 

[misterK]

Brendel

Passion envelops him as Imoshen's icy fingers touch his skin sending a fiery coldness spread throughout his body. At first he recoils, finding the cold almost unbearable, but then it becomes part of him, part of his blood. He surrenders to her embrace, kissing her, tracing the contours of her face with his lips, drinking in the smoothness of her skin, the fragrance of her being.

Her perfume pervades his every pore and he surrenders to her totally. Lying down on the straw mattress, pulling her in his wake he kisses her more passionately, seeking to learn every curve of her body, every inch of her skin. His kisses and tongue run over her wildly yet gently. He listens to her breathing, to the rhythm of her heart suddenly stronger and quicker. Only his lips touch her, kissing her, feeling her, tasting her.

He looks at her then, holding her in his arms and, seeing the passion in her eyes, he kisses her more.

Their embrace becomes more fiery and now the iciness from her skin envelops him completely. He directs his mouth and tongue over her thighs, slowly inching his way up between her legs, closing in on the source of the wintry cold. He finally reaches it and is surprised at the heat produced by so much cold. He wants to make it his, he wants to partake in it, and he wants to become part of it.

His clothes fall to the ground as she removes them eagerly and soon they are lying side by side, their body entwined in their consuming passion.

 

[lustinginnocence]

Leylandia

Ley is at first startled and embarrassed as she hears Lady Delphine, but when she feels her hand settle between her thighs and her mouth descend upon her nipple, she sighs with pleasure and abandons herself to the other woman's touch.

She soon reaches an orgasm under Delphine's gentle caresses and holds on to the woman's hand fiercely. Then she opens her eyes, still flushed from the pleasure she has just been given and stares into Lady Delphine's whispering haltingly: "I.. I am all your milady.. I will serve you in any way you want.. I.. I will do anything you want.. I am yours.. Forever..."

 

[Jeselynn]

Ciowyn

Walking from the water's edge and onto the large flat rocks... I sat on the mossy hard surface.

She seemed to flow out of the water and glide to me. like a whisper on the wind she spoke.

'my name is Briza' smiling. I spoke ' Ciowyn'

She stood with her hair her only cover.. long and black. past her knees.. some braids and curls were wild in it's flowing

 

[Sateema Lunasi]

Delphine.

Delphine is intrigued by Leylandia's loyalty and her passion. Finding a wicked idea swimming in her head, she caresses Leylandia's thigh and says,
"My darling, I would like to feel your touch upon me. Here..."

Delphine's slender hand moves up her own skirts and between her thighs to touch the moist cleft there.

"I would like to feel your kiss here."

 

[lustinginnocence]

Leylandia

Ley shyly smiles up at Lady Delphine, slowly caressing her mistress's sex. She pulls her hand away and pushes the dress up and around Delphine's thighs, uncovering her beautiful legs.

Her kisses are fiery, passionate as she traces them along the other woman's thighs and being in this position strangely arouses her further. She kneels on the floor in front of Delphine and her mouth eagerly makes it way towards her offered sex. She feels her mistress draw in her breath as she places her mouth over it and is happy to draw a moan out of her as her tongue parts the engorged lips.

Delphine can barely stand as Ley kisses and licks her and Ley feels the other woman's hands take hold of her head and pull her even more into her. Her tongue darts in and out, tasting the inebriating taste of Delphine's sex, feeling her sweet nectar run down her throat, down her chin.

Suddenly Ley feels Delphine's muscles clench and contract as she explodes in an orgasm, her juices running more freely out of her pleasured sex and flooding down over her eager face and mouth.