<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/AviciaB_zpscg0eysap.jpg)</div><br/><br/><strong>Name:  Avicia (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266077.msg13173582#msg13173582)</strong><br/><br/><strong>CLIENT</strong><br/><br/><strong>Situation:</strong>Engaging everything<br/><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Andrea<br/><br/><strong>Content Warning:</strong><em>None</em><br/><br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/><br/>As Andrea spoke, Avicia listened intently, infinitely curious about the infinitely delightful and astonishing stranger who was her Bride for this night.  They sat entwined together on the soft leather of the couch, and their hands and fingertips gently explored each other: cheeks, hair, ears, lips…  it seemed such a natural, such a commonplace thing, and yet not since childhood had Avicia had ever sat so close to another, or touched so freely.  The more she learned of Andrea -- the people and the family she had come from, who she had been, who she chose now to be -- the more astonished and bewildered she was that such a magnificent, ethereal creature should have looked about at everyone that the vast room below them had to offer, and had chosen to approach a dumpy, middle-aged, inexperienced widow.  And yet, here they both sat.  Andrea would have it that it was Avicia who had chosen her; but to Avicia’s mind, they had chosen each other.  Or more aptly, they had been selected for each other by some great, vast, unknowable force of the universe.<br/><br/>When Andrea turned Avicia’s question back to her, she was not surprised; but nor did she have nearly so vivid and entrancing story to tell.  She smiled warmly into Andrea’s eyes, and her palm came to rest at the tall woman’s cheekbone, cradling it gently, fingertips resting lightly in the white-blonde hair.<br/><br/>“I’ll tell you gladly, what there is of it to tell,” she said.  “I was borne of an unlettered fisherman and his overburdened wife.  We lived by the sea, and I never knew that we wanted for anything.  There was always Papa’s catch to eat, and Mama’s bread along with it, and we never knew there were other foods in the world.  I learned to ride, and to swim, and to dig for clams and crabs in the sand; and mother taught me to spin, and weave, and sew.”<br/><br/>She shifted one foot, running her bare toes luxuriously along the smooth leather.  “I was more child than woman when they married me off,” she said, without a trace of rancor.  “So proud they were, so amazed at their own good luck, that they had given one of their children a life of such ease.  They didn’t know that Lutholf wanted a wife as an emblem of his station in life and to give him children, not a companion or a friend, or even a lover.  And certainly not a Bride,” she added, smiling.  “But if they had, I doubt they would have cared.  They were saving me from a lifetime of poverty and hard labor.  I cannot fault them for doing for their daughter what they believed was best.  And Lutholf was a good man.  He was a generous man.”<br/><br/>For a moment, Avicia paused, her brows furrowing slightly, and she lay her head on Andrea’s shoulder.  What to say of Lutholf that would not damn the man to one who did not know him?  She owed him, at the very least, fairness.  She would not be here, tonight, were it not for the wealth he had left her with.<br/><br/>“He was a man who believed that pleasure, in women, was of the devil; and that to lie with a woman was to befoul her,” she said finally.  Her head still lay against Andrea, and she turned her head to kiss the long, slender neck gently.   “The children I gave him were conceived in…”  She paused, searching for the right word.  “In efficiency,” she finished, “with no more contact than was absolutely necessary.  I’ve known no other in all my life.  My friends and my sisters used to speak in whispers and giggles of the joys of the bedchamber, and I thought them foolish.”  A wry smile that lit Avicia’s face, and she turned her eyes towards the dancing light of the candles.  “How I ever came to believe that there could be more between a man and a woman than Lutholf had taught me, I do not know.  And between two such as you and I?”  She laughed softly, and lowered her head just a few inches, till she was turning her face against the softness of Andrea’s breast, caressing the fullness with her cheek.  “He must be ranting in his grave this very moment,” she said comfortably, and with amusement, as one would speak of a child in a tantrum..<br/><br/>For a few moments, Avicia rested her head against Andrea’s white, pillowed flesh, breathing deeply, letting the mounting excitement and arousal of the woman’s closeness fill her senses.  A desire she had never dreamed of was writhing slowly inside of her, with a power greater than she had ever believed she could contain.  A fire was growing deep in her loins; a hungry, voracious fire that curled itself tightly in her belly and sent tendrils of fire and ice through her thighs, her breasts, through the core of her.  A fire that was named, Andrea.<br/><br/>She sat up again suddenly, pulled herself back only far enough that she could look at her Bride, see her eyes.<br/><br/>“Who am I, in this moment?” she asked, and her voice was thick husky, trembling with need and with joy.  “I am the woman I was always meant to be, living a life that I never had the courage to claim till this night.  How do I feel, in this moment?  I feel as though I’ve been newly born, and everything good that the world has to offer is mine, if I only reach for it.”<br/><br/>Her hand came up slowly, neither tentative nor hesitant, but savouring this moment, this first touch of its kind; and her palm cupped her Bride’s breast, fingers stroking the red silk experimentally, thumb stroking delicately, seeking and finding the hard peak of her nipple under the fine gossamer.<br/><br/>“And what I desire of my Bride,” she finished, her voice barely a whisper, “is everything.  Your love, and all that goes with that: your tenderness, your joy, your ecstasy, your hardness, your softness, your playfulness, your command, your compliance.  And for you to give me the greatest joy I can imagine, by accepting the same from me.”<br/><br/>She leaned in and kissed Andrea, fully and deeply.  Avicia had chosen her Bride, and she would honor her with her spirit, her reverence, and her body; but most of all, with her love.<br/><br/><br/><br/>