justanartsysideblog:“Welcome home.” Kel belongs to @feynitesKel has been married to
justanartsysideblog: “Welcome home.” Kel belongs to @feynites Kel has been married to Olwyn in her heart for most of her life, now.And they are both accustomed to spending time apart. To facing a winter, or summer, autumn, or spring where they cannot be together. Where their duties take precedence, or even their own individual dreams. Even the most steadfast of lovers rarely spend all their lives together.Kel’s learned to appreciate the partings, even if the best part is always the sweetness of reunion.“Did you miss me?” she asks, needlessly, as she presses another kiss to her wife’s lips.Olwyn trails her fingers up into her hair.“That’s a dumb question,” she murmurs.Kel hums, and deepens their kiss. She tightens her embrace, skin against skin, the two of the lost amid the soft sheets and dimmed lights of Olwyn’s chambers. Outside, some of Thenvunin’s night birds loose familiar cries. A cool breeze makes it way through the round, open windows. The moon hangs above the branches of decorative garden trees.Olwyn is warm and dear, her lips parting readily, her breath speeding up as Kel slides a thigh between her legs and slants her mouth down. She peppers kisses across her jaw, before she takes a moment to pointedly breathe in the scent of her. The lingering notes of cleansing oils in her hair, and the familiar heat of arousal.“Tell me how much you missed me anyway,” she implores. Her own voice sounds low and a little ragged, wrung out from the long trip, from the longing in that trip. The air between them thrums with the weight of their affections. And her skin buzzes with the sense of connection - the bond forged between them, enduring and unbreakable.When Olwyn’s heart speeds, she feels the echo of it behind her ribs. Her desire suffuses the atmosphere, sweeter than the breeze through the window, and her wife’s breath catches in her throat.Then she embraces Kel back just as fiercely.“So much,” she says. Just the two words escape her, but the sentiment floods her more in other ways. In the sudden wealth of yearning that Olwyn lets sink through their bond, coloured by the relief of reunion; and in the rush of desire that rises up to meet her own. She laces their fingers together, sighing, and even lets a tear leak out of the corner of one eye. Leaning in, she nuzzles her face against Olwyn’s, and murmurs endearments to her.“Vhenan,” she says. “My wife. Sweetest fire, dearest love, keeper of my secrets and companion of my soul…”Olwyn tilts her head, and seizes another kiss. Her legs spread wider, wrapping around Kel’s hips as she tries to draw her in even closer. The thumping of their hearts feels so loud. Like low and pleasant drum beats. Her words skitter away, lost in the slide of tongues, the brush of Olwyn’s hot, wet arousal against her own. They only part long enough to change positions, to entangle themselves so that their sexes press together. Fitting against one another, damp curls and ragged breaths. Kel sees the flush in Olwyn’s cheeks, and watches the rise and fall of her breasts, as they move together.But it’s not enough.It’s never enough. She makes her so insatiable. Even as their movements rise and fall, even as they crest and crash, Kel finds herself pressing Olwyn back down again. Trailing kisses across her body, lingering over the soft skin of her breasts, and sensitive points of her nipples. She teases and toys, indulging to her delight, before she finally makes her way down and settles he wife’s legs over her shoulders.“I missed the taste of you,” she murmurs.Olwyn looks at her with a spark of fire in her eyes, and wraps her thighs more firmly around her.“Show me,” she implores.Kel has no recourse against that. None at all.She presses her lips into the most intimate kiss she can manage, relishing the feel of Olwyn’s soft, soft folds. So delicate and wet, covered in the evidence of their pleasure. Her tongue delves in, practiced strokes, familiar with where to press and linger and tease, how fast to move and what angles to use. They’ve done this so many times it’s practically a religious art form, now, but she never tires of the way her wife’s breaths hitch, and her legs start to tremble. How her hands fist in the blankets, and her thighs tighten further around Kel, as if begging for more. Her own arousal thickens again, leaving her wet and wanting as she devours Olwyn, but that just makes her hunger all the more pressing. She eats Olwyn out as if it might sate the trembling ache between her own thighs, and doesn’t relent until she’s heard her wife cry out twice, and the slick evidence of her pleasure is racing down her chin and ruining the sheets.Then she rests her head against the freckled thigh beside her cheek, and stretches her sore jaw into a self-satisfied grin.“Good?” she asks, panting.Olwyn gives her a dazed look.But she doesn’t take too long to recover.Kel only has a minute to note the spark of mischief in her eyes, before her wife rallies, and tackles her clean off the bed. -- source link
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