<b>[pretty lazily written dickwimmin talk; ignore at your leisure or whatever]</b><br/><br/>"'course I know," she grumbled through a set of tightly clenched teeth, face as red as a beet. Reyhan cursed herself in a loud exhale as, her hands slipping down to rest atop Anastasia's hips, she realized that the gown did not allow for any 'easy access', not without ruining the wear at least.  She grew frustrated, this adding onto with the anxiousness the captain had built up within her. If the sexual energy in the room continued to grow without any kind of release, she was just going to die and let the Emperor judge her for all her misdeeds and trespasses.<br/><br/>But she didn't die.  Reyhan was just too fed up with the play.  She<i>needed</i>the captain, and she was going to have her, dammit.  So she gave the Rogue Trader a rough shove forwards (clearly not clear-headed enough to know how endangered her position or person might be) so she could bend down in a hurried way to lift up the hem of her own gown and give her knickers a rough yank down to provide her aching length the rest it needed from all the teasing and toying and play.  Momentarily, at least.  Reyhan let out one drawn-out sigh and gripped her firm length in a firm hand, setting her other about the edge of Anastasia's cottons.  She gave herself a few idle strokes as the hiver took a moment to give the captain's rump a once-over and make her decision.  It did only take a moment though, as she gave the remaining panties a curt tug down.  "Tease me some other fuckin' time," she swore, maneuvering in to poke the peach-pink head of her cock among Ana's wetted nethers. "Not now."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>