Lunar Pull
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Pairing: Azula/Katara
Rating: M
Warning: Lesbians and sex. Click the blue arrow if this offends you.
Summary: As a master waterbender, Katara is sensitive to the pull of the tides and the call of the moon, and that makes her vulnerable to Azula's bare sensuality.
Katara sat in the darkness of the wide room, restless in body and mind. A bright moonbeam cast sharp impressions across the floor, echoing the tremor inside of herself-the call of the sea, the sensual passion in her own flesh. She couldn't sleep, not on the night of the full moon.
A shadow slid across the floor, hollowing Katara's face. She immediately identified Azula, who had been all quiet movements in this old family home since being released from the asylum, chaperoned by Katara. The outline of her measured movements was familiar. Katara slid to her feet and stepped outside, taking no pains to hide her presence.
Azula turned and regarded her disdainfully. She wore a robe of crimson silk that fell mid-thigh; her hair fell down her back in heavy waves. It nearly shimmered in the moonlight. She was an odd vision, all beauty and sensuality, all grace, and beneath that facade, Katara always saw shocking danger. Now, however, she saw no warning in Azula's face and followed her a few paces behind.
Azula led them through the heavy trees, her feet stepping precisely from one slate rock to the next along the path. The darkness of the small jungle that surrounded them was absolute though Azula had little trouble finding her way out of the dank path and onto the bright beach.
In the light of the moon, Katara studied Azula's body. Such a strange body to her eyes, so exotic. All the skin she showed was pale; she was long-limbed and her ankles and wrists were slender. Her waist was thin, though not unhealthy, as shown by the broadness of her shoulders and the gentle swell of her hips. Katara knew that Azula's breasts were a surprising size considering how well she hid them in her clothing. How was it that a single human being, made of so many features that could turn out ugly, could have so many perfectly beautiful aspects that came together into such a sinful whole?
As if she sensed Katara's gaze, Azula turned on one heel and let her robe slide from her shoulders.
It was a dream. There was no reality in it, in how Katara looked at her, in the moment that Azula turned and stepped into the ocean. Katara found herself sliding out of her tunic, stepping out of her trousers. She followed Azula into the darkness of the sea, which was hot and dark and moved sensually against her.
Her heightened bending whispered of eddies and swirls and currents that fluctuated in the water. The gentle push and swell of the waves-soon to be falling into low tide-brushed Katara's skin and sent her feedback of the shape of her own body, of Azula's form just ahead past the breakers.
The inky blackness of the warm ocean swelled into gentle rolling sweeps that lifted her off her feet and set her gently back down on the sandy ocean-bottom. The moon shone a bright path on the moving waters. Its light illuminated Azula's head as she resurfaced, her hair plastered back on her scalp like a wet seal. She swam lazily, no more than floating on her back in the rolling water. Katara could feel the heat of her body warming the water around her, the release of moisture from her mouth and skin...the heated wetness between her legs.
A moment passed as Katara settled face to face with Azula's lifted head. Then they were kissing, floating against each other, holding each other in the embrace of the ocean. Katara was hyperaware of the feel of the wetness in Azula's mouth, between her legs, the gentle perspiration that came from her skin. She felt the water within Azula's body and knew something dark and sensual in that awareness.
Azula's fingers played between her legs, cleverly pressing and brushing and pinching. "The beach," she whispered. Her voice did not break the surreal heat that characterized their exchange. It fit, dark and sensual and soft.
Though weak with pleasure, Katara summoned up a gentle current that bore them up onto the beach. They settled in the breaking tide where she could still feel the warmth of the ocean sliding up against their skin. Each surrounding push and receding pull made her moan and shudder.
Pressed into the sand, Katara yielded to Azula's touch. She'd never felt this way, never felt so wet, so vulnerable, so surreal in pleasure. Azula's body covered hers, strong-but soft-and so hot, practically radiating heat. Azula's fingers entered her, just like that, and she rocked hard into Katara, who was shocked at how deeply Azula touched her, how strong the stroke was.
The touch came again and again. Katara's eyes rolled back as she focused on the thrusts, the feel of Azula's body, the feedback she received from the ocean waves sliding up around her, flecking up against Azula. Their bodies moved together, echoing the rise and fall of the ocean waves washing up against them. Katara felt no anchor to the ground, to anything but the water and her lover, and she shook because of it. Each press of Azula into her left her feeling flushed and breathless, moving towards some great breaking burst as her body responded, grew wetter and hotter.
Katara's eyes fastened on Azula's face. Azula gazed back at her. Her bright eyes were fierce with pleasure and harsh joy, and she bared her teeth with each of Katara's gasps. There was a savagery about this that sent a sharp pulse of pleasure through Katara's body. She'd never felt like this. She'd never been touched like this. She'd never feel like this again...or perhaps she'd never feel normal again. Not with her body tightening up like this, twisted into breaking, all pleasure that made thought impossible. She kept coming, releasing wetness, moaning as Azula's thrusts turned into almost painful rubs within her. And just as soon as Katara thought she'd finally finished, she was coming again, gasping for elusive air. Azula hissed, panting and fiercely triumphant, as if giving Katara pleasure was the single-most significant victory she'd ever managed.
Later, when the waves rolled up to their knees and Katara had gained some breath and some reality to her situation, Azula intoned, "That was good for you."
It wasn't a question. Despite herself, Katara wasn't offended. Azula tended to be good at everything. She carried it as a personal expectation, not arrogance. That Azula had stayed with her even in these inactive minutes, with her arm around Katara's shoulders, made her touch intimate. She was not a conquest, and somehow Katara knew she wouldn't become one.
Katara wondered if she wanted reciprocation. There was a startling stirring of pleasure within her-how could she feel that so quickly?-and a deep curiosity. She could sense the musky wetness between Azula's legs clearly and slid her fingers into it without warning. Azula gasped in shock but opened her legs to Katara's touch.
Slippery wetness, heat... Azula's flesh was swollen, and Katara's fingers slipped into her almost by accident. Azula met her touch with a moan and swift thrust of her hips-as fierce as her movements earlier. Perhaps there was nothing Azula did not approach with ferocity and fervor.
"Perhaps," Azula murmured, her fingers brushing over Katara's breasts wickedly, "you'd like to move closer to the water again."
Clever of her. How had she known? They took a few moments to slide back towards the tide, and Katara settled between Azula's legs, shaking in anticipation. She lowered her mouth to Azula-who moaned and trembled in similar anticipation. There was nothing to compare to the hot wetness of Azula's essence, the taste of her musk, the slide and manipulation of her swollen flesh. Katara moaned against her, rubbing her mouth and face against Azula, and Azula rubbed back, gasping as she ground against Katara to find her release. It seemed as though no time at all had passed before Azula rolled away and lay on her side, hiding her face from Katara. Her breaths evened out and her body relaxed. Katara already knew that Azula had come; she'd felt it in the movement of flesh within her. It was a shaky, dark sensation that made Katara go hollow between her legs in memory.
None of her sexual experiences had been like this—this heady sensuality that drew her away from reality. Was it truly possible that Azula was just simply good at everything she did? Katara traced a hand down the smooth length of Azula's spine, admiring the corded muscle of her back and shoulders, the softness of her backside and slender hips. Azula rolled over, met her eyes, and then met her lips in a slow sensual kiss that once again stumped any experience Katara had ever had. When they parted, Katara found herself saying, "I'm glad I like you."
"Do you?" Azula asked, stroking her fingers across Katara's nipples. "I wasn't aware you felt anything but pity and disdain for me."
"That's not true...anymore," Katara replied. "I don't think I would have enjoyed this if I didn't like you just a little bit."
Azula laughed in her throat. She leaned close, stroked her teeth over Katara's neck, and gently tongued her ear. "Don't underestimate the fun of hate sex," she hissed. Abruptly, she bit Katara's neck and shoved her into the sand, entering her without warning. Katara moaned and resisted weakly just to feel Azula take a firmer grip, but saying 'no' didn't ever cross her mind.
-end-
Dedication: To Freedom Holy, who has defended beach-sex often against my more practical considerations of things like salt and sand and jellyfish.