Karola grimaced at the mirror. When did she
get so dumpy? Or for that much matter, when did her waistline disappear?
She pinched at her flank. No, still there. Karola distinctly remembered her
sides neatly tucking in between her ribs and her hips.
Grumbling under her breath, she grabbed a
corselet. It didn't meet in the front. "It's been years!" The traitorous
garment must have shrunk. Giving up, she tossed it into the rework pile on
the bed. The pile was growing. Early this morning Karola had decided to rearrange
her closet. Falyana was a well grown six year old and it was long past time
for Karola to pack away her maternity clothes.
Unfortunately, many of her other clothes no
longer fit now either! Her hair tangled around her wrist. Karola tried covering
her rather worn breasts with it. The black on her pale skin only made them
look worse. She put a loose silk undershirt on. One she'd stolen from Avilan.
"At least this still fits ..." Karola pulled
out the first overtunic Avilan had made her after their handfasting. Emerald
beads and platinum sequins shimmered like water struck by the sun. But it
didn't. It gaped loose over her chest and bit into her sides. Karola knew
her body had changed with age and children, but this was disaster. There
was no way the overtunic could ever be made to fit properly again.
The garment was one of Avilan's best pieces.
Respectfully, she took it off and placed it back on the padded hanger. "Perhaps
I should ..." she thought of placing it on a stand against the wall. No,
Avilan would take that as offence. He would think that Karola no longer wished
to wear it. Saddened, she replaced it in the closet with the others.
Covered in Avilan's huge shirt, Karola gazed
longingly at the beautiful clothes she could no longer wear. "No, I can't
ask him."
"Ask me what, beloved?" Karola felt so mornful
to his senses, he had to try to cheer her up. He kissed the back of her silken
neck. She shrank away. "Something wrong?" He knew there was, but didn't want
to push things if she didn't want to speak.
"No, no," her voice said. Karola's nager said
exactly the opposite. Avilan turned her around. Her stunning violet eyes
held the first glimmers of tears. He brushed his thumbs over her cheekbones.
Karola's stunning beauty still took his breath away. How he wished he could
comfort her.
"Are you sure?" He smiled at her, trying to
convince her to talk. "I love thee." This sometimes worked.
"I love you," dark lashes lowered. They framed
high cheekbones and pointed to the most kissable mouth Avilan had ever seen.
Gently, he kissed her eyelids and then moved down to place a single kiss
on her lips. Their softness against her sleek Sime warmth sent a frission
of desire through his body.
"I'm glad," Avilan tried honesty. A faint
chuckle came from her. His fingers twined in her heavy black hair. She hadn't
put it up yet since their seclusion and its drifting about her nearly nude
body was far more temptation that Avilan really had any desire to resist.
As he opened his senses to her though, she wasn't responding. Something
is really bothering her. Karola was usually as ready for a romp as he
was.
Even though since Falyana had been born, Karola
had become more and more reserved physically. Their two young daughters were
an absolute delight, as all of their children had been and were still. Avilan
had figured Karola was torn over Falyana being her last child, but this seemed
like something more.
Karola ran her hand along her side. He ached
to follow her hand with his own. Her strong body with its spectacular femininity
and Simeness made his pants shrink considerably. But Karola didn't seem to
notice it. I guess she doesn't want me anymore. Avilan knew he had
become rather stodgy and conservative with age.
All the young sharm lords were far more agile
and adventurous. Maybe she wanted one of them on her arm. Now that she had
Arkay paired off with Nashen, maybe she was getting bored with him. His heart
fell, as did other things.
All Karola wanted was a hug. Gingerly, she
stepped forward. Her heart froze as Avilan stepped back. What did I do?
she nearly wailed. Never before had Avilan refused her a hug, even when it
... she glanced down. I really am unattractive.
Normally Avilan was so light on the ground
after transfer it had become a joke between them. 'Anytime, anywhere' had
been their saying. Now, it seemed, Karola wasn't even attractive to Sharm
Lord Always Post. She stuck half her tentacles in her mouth and bit at them.
His jaw tightened and his field reddened from
its sweet warm amber. Now he's mad at me. Karola fled the room.
"I don't know what to do, Nashen." Avilan
couldn't get Karola to even open the door. She had run to a tiny lord's cubby
down near the sharm and wasn't talking to anyone.
"Why are you asking me?" Nashen squawked.
"I'm not a Sharm Lord."
"But you are male and a Lord." Avilan did
not add the fact Nashen, like himself, had an older lover.
"She's female. I don't know much about women
Avilan." His smile turned wry. "They are rather a mystery to me."
"Arkay's older than you are." Fell out of
Avilan's mouth.
"So?" Nashen blinked. "Most Lords take older
Sharm Lords as partners." He obviously didn't understand.
Avilan took a deep breath and smoothed out
his hair. "She doesn't want me anymore."
"She what!" Nashen lunged forward. "Karola
doesn't want you? How so?"
"I guess I'm just too old for her. She probably
wants some young sharm lord who can keep it up all night and dance with her
all day." He muttered under his breath.
"What in shen gives you this idea, Avilan?"
"She just doesn't respond to me the way she
used to." He studied the bracelets on his arms. "I know what I can do!"
"What, Avilan?" Nashen did not sound amused.
"I can take off my bracelets and court her
again." This sounded like a great idea.
"The last time was nearly twenty five years
ago. I think she knows you're a Sharm Lord now, dear." Nashen clucked his
tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Have you tried giving her gifts?"
"No, like what?" This was an even better idea.
"Something romantic." Nashen looked dubious.
"I can do romantic!"
"And what do you expect me to do with this?"
Karola had relented to Avilan's burbling at her door. Now she wondered why.
The rather odd apparatus made mostly of a handful of silk scarves and leather
straps was utterly incomprehensible.
"Well, first you ..." he looked down at his
hands. "It's a ..." he looked over her shoulder. "Um, it's sort of in the
nature of a costume." The last came out in a tumbling rush.
"Ooooo," the image of Avilan in the scanty
scraps of material made her mouth water, and other things. "Put it on."
"For you."
For the second time in under a week, Karola
wanted to bolt. No one would want her in something like this. Avilan was
gorgeous. She was a dumpy old matron with nine children. Her lip quivered.
"I can't." She protested.
"Why not?" His deep blue eyes were entirely
guileless. "You would be ..."
Karola wailed and slammed the door. The lone
chest in the room held a few clothes left over from some unknown lord generations
ago. Faded and moth-eaten, but mostly sound, she managed to pull together
an outfit. As she laced them, she realized they were underclothes for a rather
heavyset Gen.
She zlinned through the door. Avilan had made
his escape. What in the world has gotten into him? Then it struck
her. He couldn't get excited about her body as it was anymore, so he wanted
to decorate it. She'd heard about this tendency in older Sharm Lords.
"So be it," Darya would know about cosmetics
and other things like that.
"What do you do, when, well ...?" Karola broke
off, blushing. It had taken nearly an hour to get through all the idle discussion
with her son and daughter at Fatima and get Darya alone.
"When what, Karola?" Darya sipped at her coffee.
Karola thought the stuff was vile beyond words and wondered how Darya could
drink the stuff all day long.
"When, well, when, if ... if, well, um,"
Darya rubbed her hand over her face and smiled.
"Go on?"
"Um, how do you keep Vayer's interest?"
"It isn't hard."
"That's the problem!"
"With Avilan?" Darya leaned backwards, her
mug beginning a downward slide towards the floor. "From everything I've heard
he's ..."
"Yes, well," Karola laced her tentacles together.
"That's why I wanted to talk with you alone."
"Why me?"
"Because you're a Sharm Lord. You know about
these things."
"I'm female, Karola." She blinked, managing
to rescue her cup before it fell and placed it on an end table. "Avilan is
male ... very male."
"So is Vayer." Karola pointed out helpfully.
"Don't you hear him talk with Arkay and Nashen sometimes?"
"Well ... yes." She nodded. "I do. They, well,
um, Arkay and I have had a few discussions about things."
"Gen things?" This is what she wanted to know.
"Sorta," Darya fiddle with the hem of her
over tunic. "So, what do you think I could help with?"
"Do you think you could make me more attractive
... maybe, well, then he could ..." Simes never talked about stuff like this.
It was indecent. But she had to know.
"I do have a few tricks. I don't know if ..."
"I'll do it!"
Avilan nearly cried. All of Karola's long,
silky, soft, wonderful fur was gone. All of it. Every last bit but the hair
on her head. His lower lip did quiver.
"Do you like it?" Her eyes were bright with
excitement.
He did his best. "It's, um, well, it's," he
really wanted her hair back! "It's a change." He cringed.
"You don't like it," she looked down. "You
think I'm ..."
"No, little one,"
"I'm not!" She bounced wonderfully, even shorn.
Avilan stared at her arms.
"You shaved your arms!" No more soft hair
between her tentacle sheathes, no delicate tickle beneath his fingertips,
no silky tension wet with roniplin as he palms covered her arms. Naked!
"Yes," her lip quivered. "I thought ..."
"I love you Karola," he tried to make up for
his mistake. He shook his head no.
"You ... you ..." she sputtered. "I ..."
Ashamed of having driven her to such an extreme
to try to get some excitement in her life, Avilan fled.
"Arkay, Arkay!" Avilan pounded on the door.
"What is it now, Avilan?" The door cracked
open a cent. One bleary blue eye looked back at him.
"I drove Karola away." He sobbed.
"You did what?!" The door opened. Avilan fell
inside. Arkay almost caught him. "What happened?"
"I," Avilan sniffled from the floor. "She,
she shaved!"
"Some people do that." Arkay blinked.
"But I made her!" He got to his feet.
"Quit shouting, Avilan." Arkay dusted him
off. "Now, what happened?"
Obviously Arkay was still mostly asleep. "She
shaved because she's bored."
"Well, it is a change." Arkay still didn't
understand.
"No, she's bored with me." And idea flashed
in Avilan's mind. "She did it for her new lover!"
Arkay rubbed at his temples.
"I hope she'll be happy. All I want is for
her to be happy, Arkay." His stomach gurgled at him.
"Have you been eating Avilan?"
"Well, no." He looked down at his hands. "I
though if I were thinner, she'd like me again."
Arkay knuckled the bridge of his nose. "Settle
down, Avilan."
"I can't. I have to win her back. I have to
do something!"
"You're shouting again, Avilan."
"I know. I'm just so upset." His headache
threatened to return. The room swayed around him.
"Sit, eat," Arkay reverted to short words
when he was annoyed. Annoying his best friend after Karola was not a good
idea. Cowed, Avilan sat and nibbled at an apple.
"More," Arkay insisted.
After the first bite, Avilan realized he was
ravenous. Soon half the basketful of food was inside him. Then he looked
up. Silver eyes gazed at him from beneath the light blanket on the bed. His
mouth dried to sand paper. "Um, hello Nashen."
"Good morning, m'Lord Azov." Sparkling amusement
lit Nashen's field. "I take it the romantic approach didn't work?"
"She didn't like it." Avilan tried to brush
the crumbs from his chest. "Maybe it wasn't good enough."
"What did you give her Avilan?"
"A dancing costume," he licked the last traces
of honey from his fingertips.
"Oh my," Nashen blinked at him. "She refused?"
"She said she couldn't accept it," Avilan
forced his hands still. "Maybe her other lover is a better dancer."
"Then perhaps you should find out what the
young sharm lords are doing these days, if you really think she's found someone
else." Then he muttered under his breath. "Not that I could zlin it as a
possibility actually."
Karola paced the empty room. She couldn't
wear it. It would look wonderful on Avilan. He should be wearing things like
this. He was gorgeous. She sucked in her middle again, but eventually decided
suffocation would not improve her looks any.
"Why did I let her talk me into this?" Karola
scratched frantically at her arms and legs. Other places itched too, but
she really didn't want to scratch there. "Stop that," she told herself. Angry
looking red spots came up where she had scratched. "Darya!"
"Oh yes, please, more," she purred as Darya
rubbed the wonderful, soothing cream into her itching arms and legs. "That
feels soooooo good!"
"Why didn't you do this like I told you to?"
"Because I was going to let it grow back out."
Karola pulled the pillow lower. "At least I don't have tits to get in the
way anymore."
"How so?" Darya pushed at her to roll over.
"They're all flat." She grimaced, looking
at them slide off her chest. "No wonder Avilan can't perform for me anymore."
"I doubt it Karola." Darya shook her head
and began rubbing her feet. The memory of her transfer with Avilan after
their handfasting made it feel even better.
"Could you show me how to give a good massage?"
"You can't?" Darya blinked.
"Well, I can, but maybe you have some tricks
I haven't thought of." Karola mused.
"After I'm done rubbing you down."
"Sounds good to me." And as Darya's hands
moved up her thighs Karola moaned again.
Avilan looked around the bouquet of roses
to see Darya's hands caressing the inside of Karola's thighs. No, not the
inside of her thighs, higher. Another Sharm Lord was making love to Karola,
without letting him join in!
The flowers dropped to the floor. "Karola?"
"Oh, shen, Avilan!" She sat bolt upright.
Darya turned around. Darya's hands were glistening. She doesn't get that
aroused for me anymore! Avilan whimpered.
"Avilan, no, it isn't ..."
"No, no, it's all right," if this was what
Karola wanted, Avilan wasn't going to stand in her way. "Go ahead." He waved
them on. A small part of Avilan's heart had hoped his suspicions weren't
true, but now he knew they were.
Karola felt her heart turn to lead in her
chest as Avilan bolted from the room. Come back! She wanted to shout.
It seemed she was right, her body did disgust him.
Lying flat on the bed, next to the younger
and far curvier Darya, she must have looked like a cow ... she corrected
the thought, a bull, cows at least had teats. She put her face in her hands
and sobbed. "What can I do, Darya?"
"I don't know, Karola." She looked towards
the doorway and got up. "I think these were for you." Darya gathered up the
fallen roses.
"And then he ran away," she accepted them
anyway. Karola would have much rather had Avilan. Darya's massage had only
fired her body's interest in sex to a pitch she'd hardly known since Falyana's
birth.
"Seems so, I'm afraid." She sat on the edge
of the bed and rested her hand on Karola's knee. "What's gotten into him?"
Karola dropped the much-abused roses. "That's
it! I'll find him a boy again!"
Avilan rubbed his face against the soft
pillowcase. He missed Karola so dreadfully. Turnover had been sheer hell.
Alone, he'd thrown up three times before he settled into nearly six hours
of dry heaves. But it wasn't only the physical he missed.
This next transfer was to be their twenty-fifth
anniversary. He'd so wanted it to be special. Avilan'd made all the arrangements
with the Azov cooks for a special seclusion breakfast, found a rainbow of
flowers to fill their rooms and had even embroidered a new tunic, in secret,
for Karola's magnificently changed figure.
He loved the way she looked now. Seeing her
under Darya had driven his hormones into a frenzy of pure lust. He imagined
her perfectly soft, kissable, strokable breasts in his hands. Even after
turnover his body tried to respond. Amazed, Avilan let it.
His fantasies of Karola's soft little tiny
belly cupped in his hand made him stiffen completely, something he hadn't
managed after turnover since his true ascention at Sergei. Normally Simes
were flat bellied and wiry thin, but with the children Karola had born for
them, her figure remained exquisitely feminine, far more so than any other
Sime he'd ever seen. In his imagination, he felt a slender, hot hand trace
down his body.
"After turnover, I'm impressed." A low, soft
masculine voice startled Avilan out of his reverie.
"Who are you?" He slithered backwards, bumping
up against the wall.
"A present," A frightfully young lord with
bright blue eyes and hair the color of new gold tried to grin at him. Avilan
cringed. This wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want Karola's lover. "You
don't like me?"
"No, I'm sure you're a sweet person," if this
was what Karola wanted, he'd go along with it. "But, as you can zlin ..."
he waved his hand downwards.
"I scared it away." A pout came to the young
man's lips. It was not appealing. Karola pouting was delightful, particularly
those lips which pouted all the time. Avilan closed his eyes again, nearly
able to taste the sweet honey of his beloved. "It came back."
Avilan made a sound which was nearly coherent,
"Gahrch," he choked on his tongue. Then he looked over the young man's shoulder.
Karola was standing there, wrapped in old robe of his, three sizes to large
even for him, and looking at him hopefully. Reluctantly, hoping to make her
happy, he took her gift in his arms.
She nodded to him, and with a rustle of cloth,
was gone.
After nearly an hour, Avilan managed to get
the situation straightened out with the young lord. His name was Syril and
he really was a sweet young man. "So, what is this fad going on?"
"Well, it's like this," he smiled shyly and
pulled away the covers. Avilan stared.
"Can I touch?" he reached out with a fingertip.
"Gently, those are new," his grin was wicked.
Of course Avilan had had his ears pierced many, many times. But he'd only
heard about other piercings. As delicately as he could, he brushed his fingertip
over the brightly polished metal. "Oh my," Syril moaned. "Careful, I really
am post," he bit at his lip.
"I can see that, yes," Avilan looked down
judiciously. "Oh, my, um," he was struck speechless. "How ... didn't that
hurt?!" There was a bar of metal through the man's penis!
"At the time," Syril's voice was soft and
dreamy. Avilan recognized it immediately.
"Oh, sorry," he stopped stroking the equally
exotic rings through the man's nipples.
"No, you don't have to stop," Syril was panting
a bit. "Um, yes, I've never had a high field sharm lord stroke them. As I
said, they're new."
"What's it like for your partner?" An idea
percolated through Avilan's mind.
"Let's just say I've never had a problem
attracting one." he brushed his hair back proudly. "Probably why Karola picked
me."
"I take it you have a reputation." He grinned
at his new friend.
"More than a reputation, m'Lord Avilan, a
waiting list."
Karola hoped Avilan would at least be able
to tolerate her for at least one more transfer. She put on another robe.
This made four. Her hair stuck to the back of her neck and twined in damp
tendrils across her cheeks.
As it itched, she lifted it away from her
skin and panted. At least her other itches had stopped. New, fine hair had
begun growing back in at last. Even though her value seemed to have sunk
even lower with her estrangement from Avilan.
Down in the kitchens, the cooks had acted
like she was speaking High Simelan when she'd asked for a special meal prepared
for her anniversary with Avilan. Twenty-five years ago this month they'd
formally declared their handfasting. Karola could still remember it as if
it were yesterday.
The frantic month of preparation for her fight
to choose her own partner. The joyous weeks of discovery of her own body
and Avilan's. Old Sharm Lord Sergei teaching both of them. They had been
so new to it all, even Avilan, who had had many lovers before her, but few
of them female. A small grin played across her face. As far as she knew,
equally few of the other lovers he'd had since they'd bonded had been female
as well.
It was an odd sort of unnecessary loyalty,
but it charmed her nonetheless. Avilan had mostly chosen to go to Nashen
while they were a triad with Arkay. She hadn't begrudged him the least for
finding another partner when he was the Sharm Lord off for the month. Karola
would certainly have done the same if she were in a triad where she would
have had to share a Sharm Lord.
After Arkay had gone with Nashen, their bed
had been frightfully lonely some nights. She missed, well sort of, Arkay's
deep snoring in counterpoint with Avilan's. Maybe young lord Syril could
join them occasionally. Everyone, every single sharm lord he'd had transfer
with, had recommended him highly. Karola couldn't quite understand why, but
figured it was a Gen thing.
Then when she put the two of them together,
Avilan had disappeared down into the sharm. She hadn't seen him once since
that night! It had been awful.
Karola fanned herself with the front of her
robes. "I stink," she decided, smelling herself. Maybe all the robes weren't
such a good idea, even this late in the year. She checked her time sense.
It was still an hour or so until she would have normally expected Avilan
for their transfer, so she hurried off for a quick scrub.
Avilan opened the door quietly. He knew Karola
wouldn't be coming up here for at least an hour, maybe more. All the arrangements
had been made. Breakfast would be waiting for them in the sitting room when
they were done. The new over tunic was hanging on the stand he'd had made
for it near the closet.
He looked back at it again. Only more than
forty years of fabric arts had given him the design skills and physical deftness
for its creation. Hundreds of brilliantly colored, fantastically imagined
humming birds chased each other through a forest of impossibly rich foliage.
Of course hiding it during its creation from Karola had been very difficult,
which was some of why he'd had to leave her alone so much during the past
week.
The other reason he'd had to vanish also brought
a small grin to his face. He couldn't wait to see the look on her field.
Only if she'd accept it. Worry made him bite at his denuded fingernails some
more. Everyone had promised him it'd work. That all Simes thought
it felt wonderful, but still he worried.
At least it's different, he pulled
off his clothes self-consciously and placed them out of sight in the hamper.
Avilan hoped Karola wouldn't still think him old fashioned sporting the newest
fad in sharm lord adornment. He arraigned himself in a pool of his own hair
on the bed. His need for his beloved Karola healed the last of the ache from
his new piercings. Just in time.
Karola was rubbing at her long hair with a
towel as she came out of the bathroom. Maybe I should simply get in bed
and cover up with a sheet. She turned. Her jaw hit the floor. "Oh ...
my ... God ..." her heart stopped.
The blackest need she'd ever known flooded
her vision. Roniplin trickled down her arms and over her fingers. Her tongue
came out to lick clean the saliva flowing from her overloaded glands. She
stalked towards the bed.
Warm, sun rich and honey sweet selyn teased
at her. It was Avilan, as she'd only imagined he'd come back, but there was
something stopping her. She blinked her vision clear.
Avilan bit at his lower lip when Karola came
into the room. He hadn't known she was already here. She should have seen
his gifts in the sitting room first. He sat bolt upright.
Then she turned to him. Her field clamped
onto him with the force of a hammer between the eyes. Syril had warned him
about the guiche, but the sensation of magnesium fire rushing from his groin
all the way up through the top of his skull burned all thoughts he might
have once held in his mind to ash. NEED! His body exploded with desire.
Then he managed to get a hold of himself.
Lava burned through his chest and veins where once they'd only held blood.
Tremors of pure light etched every single one of his nerves in stellar
brilliance. It all stopped. Avilan gasped in reaction. His vision cleared.
Karola, every lovely, wonderful, desirable
centimeter and kilogram of her stood before him. She was gloriously,
magnificently nude. He clicked his new barbell against the back of his front
teeth. She jumped half a meter in the air.
Short, fine hair on her arms and legs stood
proudly upright. His palms itched to rub all over her skin. He wanted to
be sure it was real. She hadn't shaved again, had she? It didn't look like
it!
Avilan had always been very, very reactive,
but this was far more than she wanted. Her whole body quivered, caught between
desire and terror. She rubbed at the hair on her arms, trying to get it to
lie back down after her startle.
I couldn't have zlinned that, could I?
Karola didn't dare extend her laterals. The sensation had been bizarre enough
without the extra sensitivity. Her eyes traced down the magnificent length
of Avilan. Or at least they tried to.
Everywhere she looked she zlinned another
bit of metal. His nipples, his navel, his ... she didn't want to look. He
couldn't have. She'd heard of this. Was this why Syril was so popular?!
Avilan stood, with all his incredible grace.
She looked. Her tentacles cramped in protest. She couldn't zlin. No, she
wouldn't! It would be too awful. "Karola, love," he held out his hands to
her.
"What did you do to my lover?" She wailed.
"Syril is fine." His nonsequiter made her
blink. "Or did you mean Darya?"
"Who?" She backpedaled. Frantically, she looked
around for a robe to cover her sagging body. Avilan leaped forward and caught
her hand. For a moment she wondered why he didn't clank when he moved.
"Syril wasn't your lover?"
"No, I gave him to you." She stammered in
confusion. "Darya was rubbing in lotion to ... well, to stop the itching
from where I'd shaved."
"You weren't making love with her?" He blinked
back.
"No, I'm not interested in Darya." She reached
for a shirt she'd left over the back of a chair. Avilan pulled her away from
it. "Let me go."
"All right," his nager fell to dust. He turned
away. "I wish you'd let me see you." His voice was as tiny as his daughter's
when she'd made a mistake.
"I'm old and dumpy and ugly." She held the
shirt in front of her.
"And I'm old and boring and fusty."
"You are not!" The room held an echo. Avilan
stared at her in horror. She must have mirrored his expression, for he pointed
at her and bit his lip against laughter.
"Oh, no," he made another of those clicking
sounds. This time Karola did zlin. A smooth piece of metal slid through his
tongue from top to bottom. "You thought I didn't want you, didn't you?"
"Yes," she let the shirt drop. "I figured
you thought I was ugly." His hug had a mixed effect. His nager twisted around
all the jewelry in his body, creating great flashes of rainbow light.
"And I figured you were bored with me." His
broad gentle hand caressed her face. "I thought if I made myself more interesting
..."
"I thought if I made myself more attractive
..." Karola couldn't help but chuckle. "Happy anniversary, my beloved."
"Happy anniversary to you, my beloved Karola."
His kiss made her knees buckle. Maybe I won't ask him to get rid of that
one. Or maybe it was just Avilan. "Why did you give me Syril?"
"I wanted to make you happy." She smiled at
him. "Why did you do all this?" One finger tapped gently against a nipple
ring.
"I wanted to be able to please you again."
His smile was equally crooked, at least once he'd caught his breath.
"It is all a bit much." She told him, trying
not to laugh.
"You're upset with me?"
"No, not at all, Avilan." She lowered her
head and flicked a tongue across it. This time his knees buckled. But not
in a bad way. Augmenting, she picked him up and tossed him on the bed.
"Those must have hurt," Karola shook her head
at him.
"They did," his testicles still tried to hide
inside his body when he thought of it. "Even though they do seem effective."
"Some more than others," her finger brushed
lightly over one of his nipple rings. His eyes rolled up in his head. A deep,
heartfelt groan rose from his throat. "Although some of these have got to
go."
"True," he blushed at how overexcited he'd
gotten. "Did you like?"
"Some more than others," she repeated, a wicked
grin on her face. Her hand caressed the most intimate of all his new jewelry.
"I like this one."
"Syril said you would." He chuckled once he'd
gotten his speech back.
"I'm going to have to have a long talk with
that young man." Her cross tone was totally contradicted by the amusement
in her field. "So, which would you keep?"
"Other than the one you have your hand on?"
That one had hurt far too much for Avilan to ever want to have to go through
the piercing part of the exercise again!
"Other than," her eyes strayed to his lips.
He licked them, making sure the bar slid through his tongue with the gesture.
Her breath caught.
"This one, I think," he leaned over and kissed
her. Her instant, overwhelming response reassured him of the correctness
of his choice.
Karola had been so overwhelmed, she'd forgotten
to dress. Proud of his ability to make her forget, Avilan led her to the
sitting room. His own knees were still more than a bit shaky, but hers wobbled
like jelly.
"It's magnificent," she breathed, dashing
forward to the tunic. He held his breath. "For me?" Her field glowed with
awe.
"Yes, for you," he bowed his head.
"This was what I wanted," her blush reached
to the top of her buttocks. "After your love."
"You have my love, in its entirety." he felt
himself blush. "I would give you the earth, Karola."
"I would have thee," she smiled at him.
"If you would have me?" He hoped.
"Even with all the jewelry in the sharm."
She stood before him. "I pledge to thee, my honor and my love."
"I pledge to thee, my Demense and my Life,"
he replied, his love for her overflowing all bounds with the repetition of
their oaths.
"For all time to come," her eyes lit with
joy.
"For all our future to live."
"May our future find happiness and joy."
"May our children continue to grow strong
and straight." Avilan flinched slightly at the reminder of the one who hadn't.
Karola squeezed his hand gently.
"As above." she said and he caressed the earring
he had given her at their handfasting.
"So below." he said and she put a finger to
her lips. He stopped. Startled, he watched her zip off into the bedroom.
She came back with a stunning gold and malachite bracelet which she slid
onto his wrist. He bowed his head, fighting back tears of pure joy. She
had remembered. He'd seen it at last midsummer, but hadn't dared ask
for such a fantastic piece of work.
"As within." He clutched both her hands to
his chest.
"So without." Her kiss was far from gentle,
ravishing his mouth and making him clutch her to him with all his strength.
Together, they concluded, "Under all the stars
in Heaven, may we continue to find our dreams of eternity."
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