Chariot was sitting at her desk researching something or other when Croix plopped down beside her. It was funny how the tables had turned in such a way. When they were children it was usually Croix who couldn't keep her nose out of a book, and now it was all she could do not to be a bit nostalgic as she sat on the floor and watched Chariot write out lesson plans the way she wrote out her thesis papers. She remembered how much Chariot begged for attention when they were younger, starting with her head in Croix's lap, ending with her face buried into Croix's side with her arms tight around Croix's waist. Though there was a particular instance in which Croix did not respond to either and Chariot had to take such drastic measures to capture the older witch's attention. As Croix sat on the floor, she could picture it now as it were, Chariot as she silently slinked under Croix's desk like a snake receding before the strike.
Without so much as realizing it, Croix followed suit. She felt the giddiness in her chest, the same giddiness she imagined Chariot to have when she was enacting out her lewd ploy, and as Croix re-enacted history, Chariot had a sense of what she was doing from the way the cloaked-woman slipped under the desk, the way her hand rested on Chariot's knee, and the sudden tug on what was usually a slack in fabric. Chariot's breathe hitched as history repeated itself in reverse and Croix planted a kiss on her inner thigh. She did not make any noise louder than a slight squeak in the back of her throat and ceased writing, holding the quill for quite some time while she waited on Croix's next move.
There was another kiss, and another, each moving deeper on her thigh and Chariot let out a soft, raspy hum in response. She closed her eyes and fell still while Croix chipped away at her work ethic. And chip away Croix did, though it was more like nip away as she dragged her teeth across the skin underneath Chariot's skirt. She kissed and kissed and kissed Chariot's skin, but between kisses she gauged where to strike like a shark circling prey in the waters. She bit in small nips. Not soft, but small. and as she worked away, she slipped a hand up Chariot's skirt, raking her nails across the other leg before she reached her destination of Chariot's underwear.
She ceased all movement then and Chariot moaned out for her to continue. And that was all it took for Croix to tug down the fabric and get to work, diving in deeper with every kiss and nip before she reached the heart of the matter. Chariot's pulse was throbbing beneath her scorching skin and Croix's resolve was in high demand. She practically held Croix there with the way her legs clenched with every sign of intimacy and she let out soft gasps while she gripped both the desk and the chair, trying to keep herself steady. It wasn't until Chariot felt Croix's tongue that she began to moan out Croix's name more demandingly. And Croix didn't fail to deliver everything Chariot needed, finishing her off and coming up for air when it was all said and done.
She barely had time to wipe her mouth before Chariot pulled her up and in for a kiss she wasn't expecting. Chariot's legs wrapped around Croix's waist and Croix held onto Chariot's rear, and without breaking the kiss, Croix lifted Chariot out of the seat and brought her over to the bed. Things escalated from there at an even more rapid pace than rabbits multiplying and Chariot stripped down and tore her way through Croix's clothes like one tears up a package on Christmas morning. Now it was her turn to pass on the affections and Croix let her, doing her best not to moan out Chariot's name in case anyone was within earshot.
Croix was less of an easy target, not as quick to satisfy, which made it all the more frustrating for the both of them. But they pressed on, pressed against each other like gum pressed into the sidewalk on a summer day, hot and sticky and melted into one another. Chariot also had full usage of her hands now, which freed up her mouth for other pleasantries such as marking her territory in places people would never see and exchanging feverish kisses. Croix was more focused on the pleasure of Chariot's efforts than any pain, however, and had clawed up her bare back in the process, almost subconsciously doubling any damages.
As children attending Luna Nova they did only a fraction of what they were doing now. Maybe even a fraction of a fraction. But like a good bottle of merlot, their love only got finer with age, more prominent, and certainly more potent than anything fresh could possibly be. Croix buckled into Chariot as she delivered the final blow and gasped, finding it almost impossible to breathe.
The two laid in silence as their heavy breaths took over the atmosphere, engulfing every other sound. Croix rolled onto her side and held out her hand. Chariot took it and the two of them closed their eyes and curled up like two crescent moons pressed into one another, existing only in was sitting at her desk researching something or other when Croix plopped down beside her. It was funny how the tables had turned in such a way. When they were children it was usually Croix who couldn't keep her nose out of a book, and now it was all she could do not to be a bit nostalgic as she sat on the floor and watched Chariot write out lesson plans the way she wrote out her thesis papers. She remembered how much Chariot begged for attention when they were younger, starting with her head in Croix's lap, ending with her face buried into Croix's side with her arms tight around Croix's waist. Though there was a particular instance in which Croix did not respond to either and Chariot had to take such drastic measures to capture the older witch's attention. As Croix sat on the floor, she could picture it now as it were, Chariot as she silently slinked under Croix's desk like a snake receding before the strike.
Without so much as realizing it, Croix followed suit. She felt the giddiness in her chest, the same giddiness she imagined Chariot to have when she was enacting out her lewd ploy, and as Croix re-enacted history, Chariot had a sense of what she was doing from the way the cloaked-woman slipped under the desk, the way her hand rested on Chariot's knee, and the sudden tug on what was usually a slack in fabric. Chariot's breathe hitched as history repeated itself in reverse and Croix planted a kiss on her inner thigh. She did not make any noise louder than a slight squeak in the back of her throat and ceased writing, holding the quill for quite some time while she waited on Croix's next move.
There was another kiss, and another, each moving deeper on her thigh and Chariot let out a soft, raspy hum in response. She closed her eyes and fell still while Croix chipped away at her work ethic. And chip away Croix did, though it was more like nip away as she dragged her teeth across the skin underneath Chariot's skirt. She kissed and kissed and kissed Chariot's skin, but between kisses she gauged where to strike like a shark circling prey in the waters. She bit in small nips. Not soft, but small. and as she worked away, she slipped a hand up Chariot's skirt, raking her nails across the other leg before she reached her destination of Chariot's underwear.
She ceased all movement then and Chariot moaned out for her to continue. And that was all it took for Croix to tug down the fabric and get to work, diving in deeper with every kiss and nip before she reached the heart of the matter. Chariot's pulse was throbbing beneath her scorching skin and Croix's resolve was in high demand. She practically held Croix there with the way her legs clenched with every sign of intimacy and she let out soft gasps while she gripped both the desk and the chair, trying to keep herself steady. It wasn't until Chariot felt Croix's tongue that she began to moan out Croix's name more demandingly. And Croix didn't fail to deliver everything Chariot needed, finishing her off and coming up for air when it was all said and done.
She barely had time to wipe her mouth before Chariot pulled her up and in for a kiss she wasn't expecting. Chariot's legs wrapped around Croix's waist and Croix held onto Chariot's rear, and without breaking the kiss, Croix lifted Chariot out of the seat and brought her over to the bed. Things escalated from there at an even more rapid pace than rabbits multiplying and Chariot stripped down and tore her way through Croix's clothes like one tears up a package on Christmas morning. Now it was her turn to pass on the affections and Croix let her, doing her best not to moan out Chariot's name in case anyone was within earshot.
Croix was less of an easy target, not as quick to satisfy, which made it all the more frustrating for the both of them. But they pressed on, pressed against each other like gum pressed into the sidewalk on a summer day, hot and sticky and melted into one another. Chariot also had full usage of her hands now, which freed up her mouth for other pleasantries such as marking her territory in places people would never see and exchanging feverish kisses. Croix was more focused on the pleasure of Chariot's efforts than any pain, however, and had clawed up her bare back in the process, almost subconsciously doubling any damages.
As children attending Luna Nova they did only a fraction of what they were doing now. Maybe even a fraction of a fraction. But like a good bottle of merlot, their love only got finer with age, more prominent, and certainly more potent than anything fresh could possibly be. Croix buckled into Chariot as she delivered the final blow and gasped, finding it almost impossible to breathe.
The two laid in silence as their heavy breaths took over the atmosphere, engulfing every other sound. Croix rolled onto her side and held out her hand. Chariot took it and the two of them closed their eyes and curled up like two crescent moons pressed into one another, existing only in stages.
