02-01-2012, 12:45 AM
She flipped the curl over her shoulder with a casual twist of her wrist as Orin sidled over to her. She let the woman sit as close to her or as far from her as she wanted, feeling confident and self assured. She grinned crookedly, her tail wagging slowly. "I got them pierced, of course." Her tone was laughing, but not cruel. "He pushed a needle through and then just slid the hoop in. It's kept from falling out by the ball at the end." She lifted the hoop, twisting it slightly, an ache between pleasure and pain radiating through her body from her nipple.
Her soft intake of breath wasn't from pain, but from a gentle pleasure as Orin's warm hand brushed the hyper sensitive nipple. The nipple hardened under the creamy finger of the angel, Orin. "Not really." Her voice was a trifle more husky than it had been, a sharp edge of sexual desire tingeing the words with a darker burr, a rasp of need and hunger. "Makes them more sensitive, I've noticed."
She listened to the words of the woman, a hand drifting up to her own auburn curls again. The feather, the ever present token of loyalty to Odadio, tickled her neck just below the silver collar. "Wish I could do something like that with mine." She liked watching the woman talk, the dyes she spoke of clearly being a favored past time. Soul's tail wagged gently.
Orin offered her the wineskin, and Soul leaned forward to take it, 'accidentally' brushing her breasts against the hand of the woman, taking the skin. She took a small drink, then licked her lips, eying a small droplet on orin's lips. "I imagine," she murmured, "That it would taste sweeter if I tasted it on your lips." She leaned in, kissing the woman gently, her tongue running over the woman's lips teasingly before nipping it gently.
She liked a little pain with her pleasure, and she hoped this beautiful vision would feel the same.
((WC:336))
Her soft intake of breath wasn't from pain, but from a gentle pleasure as Orin's warm hand brushed the hyper sensitive nipple. The nipple hardened under the creamy finger of the angel, Orin. "Not really." Her voice was a trifle more husky than it had been, a sharp edge of sexual desire tingeing the words with a darker burr, a rasp of need and hunger. "Makes them more sensitive, I've noticed."
She listened to the words of the woman, a hand drifting up to her own auburn curls again. The feather, the ever present token of loyalty to Odadio, tickled her neck just below the silver collar. "Wish I could do something like that with mine." She liked watching the woman talk, the dyes she spoke of clearly being a favored past time. Soul's tail wagged gently.
Orin offered her the wineskin, and Soul leaned forward to take it, 'accidentally' brushing her breasts against the hand of the woman, taking the skin. She took a small drink, then licked her lips, eying a small droplet on orin's lips. "I imagine," she murmured, "That it would taste sweeter if I tasted it on your lips." She leaned in, kissing the woman gently, her tongue running over the woman's lips teasingly before nipping it gently.
She liked a little pain with her pleasure, and she hoped this beautiful vision would feel the same.
((WC:336))