i never said that i would be your lover
i never said that i would be your friend
i never said that i would take no other
Kensa’s breath catches when Starsin answers her and though she would normally smile and twist her lover around herself she wants Starsin too much for those kind of games. A kiss becomes an embrace and Kensa’s thoughts are a whirling blackness punctuated by the glow of dapples or the eyelash shadowed slope of withers, the supple curve of a thigh, always a gift of Starsin’s own beauty according to what inspires the chesnut’s lust.
Nothing is held back, no shyness or withholding to keep pace with one another. They burn together in the same inferno, neither needing to wait on the other.
Body slides against body, Kensa follows and curls against Starsin. She favors the question-mark shape of the constellation on the grey mare’s side as she passes it. The two of them move together and against each other, Kensa nips Starsin’s tight lower belly before she is forced to move on as the arabesque beauty winds around her and whispers her lips over her gold and white thighs. The sensation of Starsin’s soft lips kissing their way up her thighs stops Kensa, and she is still and breathing hard with her head curved back over the point of Starsin’s hip. Finding it impossible to look away from the movement of the blue eyed girl until a shudder of pleasure drops her own lashes over the sight.
Starsin’s name is in her mind rather than on her lips, the only sensible thought she can form. The rest of it is sensation that matches the shift and quiver of her body. It is easier to give back to Starsin, or rather there is greater control afforded her, here on even ground with their bodies neatly coiled together. Kensa discovers a dapple glowing on the girl’s inner thigh and lathes her tongue over it. Her lips run up the curve of Starsin’s buttocks, teeth grazing, teasing the black fall of Starsin’s tail into flagging for her. There’s a sound of longing in her throat when she tastes her, unabashed as her own thighs twitch and breath falls hot in tandem with each of their attentive touches. The chestnut’s tongue traces, explores, learning what makes the grey shudder, what disturbs the rhythm of the other tongue against her own flesh.
Kensa pants, her belly tight and flaxen tail strained to the side to give every square centimeter of access to Starsin’s lips and tongue. In the seconds before she shudders and struggles not to push back against every touch she wants this to never stop, to fall into some eternity where Starsin can fuck her endlessly, the taste of her never far from Kensa’s lips. A ragged gasp accompanies her climax, a frustrated urgency as she begs Starsin not to stop (more in thought than in intelligible words), silencing her herself with her own task but only after she has cried out and sunk her teeth into a grey thigh, ravenous to feel flesh yield to her tension.
@[Starsin] Ponr.
