<div class="floatright"> (http://cimarron.wdfiles.com/local--files/ella/Trist.jpg) </div><br/><strong>► Triste</strong><br/><br/>As Chantal turned, Triste’s fingers glided across her skin with an effortless, yet purposeful touch, until as she faced him, his fingertips danced almost delicately upon the point of her elbows, having graced each inch between their points of departure and arrival with his admiring caress.<br/><br/>“Who am I to deny you anything that you desire, Mon Cher, certainly not when it is my want as well.  I would ask one small, wonderful favor of you, if indeed I am worthy of your favors,” he noted with a curiously coy smile, then bent just enough to touch his own very warm lips to the softness of her own, his tongue seeking not entry, not yet, but rather painting the line between her lips with its tantalizing presence.<br/><br/>“For each button undone, for each pull of a fastener, I ask that you grace me with a kiss, wherever and however pleases you the very most,” he whispered, his lips kissing as much as speaking and forming words now, grazing the soft skin surrounding her mouth.  His hands slid up the back of Chantal’s arms, until his hands cradled her head full of dark and lovely hair as he kissed her more deeply now.<br/><br/>Breaking the kiss, Triste took one half step back, just enough to allow the soft and tawny light bathing the room to guide her eyes and fingers in the tasks they sought to accomplish.  Hands and arms releasing her fully, Triste’s body resembled a relaxed looking cross, his easy way of moving still seeming to be present even when the only movements made by his body were the rise and fall of his chest with each breath, the grazing of his eyes over her incomparable form, and the slightest bit of almost electrical tension that sparked invisibly each time her talented fingers touched his person.<br/><br/>“I am yours, to do with, as you wish, Chantal, lady and lover,” Triste offered as he indeed offered himself to her tender mercies.