A/N: Partially inspired by conversations I had with a friend about what BDSM is really like in real life compared to how it's portrayed in Fifty Shades of Grey, but mostly inspired by the ridiculous events that have been trending the past couple days. Llamas are not included.
She's on her back staring up at Nanoha and her hands are on her hips, fingerpads barely touching the fabric. The air is electric, supercharged, building up a storm of promises and reciprocation. Nothing stands between them save the unclosed space and the clothes separating a communion of the flesh.
Fate can scarcely breathe. She doesn't dare move her body, not even her eyes, and she'd like to look into Nanoha's eyes and get lost in them. It would be like being among the stars, set adrift on memory bliss.
Instead, her attention was on That Damn Dress.
"Subaru says it's blue and black, and Tea says it's white and gold," Nanoha says. "Personally I don't think it really matters. This thing changes colors like a chameleon."
Fate nods tightly.
"What do you think?"
Fate swallows. Good God, her mouth is so dry. It's the nerves, she tells herself. No one gets into bed with another person unless the trust is absolute and it's established. Trust in your lover, trust in her actions, and trust in yourself to let go, give and receive mutual satisfaction.
But that dress….
God, That Dress….
It just….
It just….
"I think," Fate says, "it should come off. Right. Now." She slides her hands beneath the hem and starts hiking it up those long, muscular legs.
Nanoha tosses her head back and laughs. "I figured as much! But Fate, you'll tear the dress if you do it that way. Here, let me show you…."