Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream & Neroon]
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Wistful Dream on 26-12-2008, 23:18:41</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>26-12-2008, 23:18:41</strong>
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				She really didn't understand why her friend was being so overly careful, really, its not like men wanted her dead. More, they wanted to sleep with her, to fuck her good, and she was never fully out of their systems. She made damn sure of that. And women had nothing to fear for she would not touch those men who were married. She had her sources, she was after all the Mistress of Night here in this city; she held more power and sway over the city, and in some ways the country then even the fool King himself.<br><br>Seren Hamur was gorgeous, there was no doubting that. Her face was crafted like a perfect piece of art, almost too lovely to be real. With those dark, inviting, languid eyes of deep peru chocolate, framed by the dark waves of her sable hair. Thick lashes, long enough to provoke envy in most shuttered her gaze when she blinked, eyebrows with the perfect arch set off the whole look. And full, sinful lips were formed into a nearly ever present teasing moue. Add that lovely face with classically set cheekbones, to the soft golden bronze of her skin, the delicacy of her nose, a blessing for anyone from her native country, and of course to the figure most women would kill for and there was the most successful and youngest courtesan to reign over the city. What one wouldn't guess was who the lovely lady, the term loosely used of course, would keep as a close friend.<br><br>Syranade, a horse trader by trade, and a fiery, opinionated female a full four years older then Seren, yet someone she trusted completely. Thus the reason she was sitting upon the smoothly finished wooden chair with a down filled pillow between the hard surface and the sweet curves of her buttocks, her fingers idly tapping against the table. Her long dark hair was down, looking artless but in a carefully arranged mused state; she looked like she had just rolled out of bed, and with her there was no real knowing. Her lovely body was showcased in a low cut emerald gown, the bodice hugging her form and showing quiet a bit of cleavage while the skirts flared slightly over her hips, yet clung to her long legs.<br><br>They had been through three men already, all of who she had dismissed. They had ogled her a bit too much, and while she was flattered she wanted someone who would be worth her business. She was bored with all the men she knew of currently, having forgone sleeping with any man for a forenight or more according to rumor, and the rumor wasn't far off. Though it was an odd thing for her to do she didn't like to waste her time and finding someone that could match her in the bedroom arts was becoming harder and harder. After all she was already the best, already had all the power and money she could wish for. Now she just needed to find a way to not be bored to tears during each bout of intercourse. Her friend was being oddly stubborn about helping to chose her newest bedmate, perhaps she should not have shared the details of that silly Jerald, she hadn't thought the horse trader would worry over her, nor had she in a million years expected her to insist upon sitting in with her friend as she interviewed, tormented and dismissed men for their lacking. While they were friends it was an odd, and mostly secret friendship. Syran was rather too wholesome for Seren. <br><br>It, the interview process, was becoming stale and boring already as well. Perhaps the courtesan needed to travel, having found her life to be so dull and lacking of late, but the children were here and she would not leave them. Another man was scheduled for today, and if luck didn't improve she would simply decide to try and seduce the king just for the sport of it. That was how bored Seren found herself.&nbsp; For this last one though Syran had thought to try something new, the lights were dimmed and Seren looked like a queen of old sitting in such splendor in the shadows. A man entered.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>27-12-2008, 01:10:05</strong>
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				It had been a rather uneventful stay in the city so far.&nbsp; Uneventful for Del, that is.&nbsp; He had, much to his own disgust, actually behaved himself.&nbsp; Then again, he considered, even he needed a holiday from time to time.&nbsp; The whole business of rescuing his idiot cousin Simeon from the sorceress he had become entangled with had been tiring.&nbsp; Partly, this had been from convincing Simeon that the sorceress was a bad woman, really.&nbsp; And that all of the delights with which Simeon had been enticed from the straight and narrow were only means to the end of making him her thrall.&nbsp; And then, it had been even more tiring taking Simeon's place with the sorceress.&nbsp; <br><br>One of these days, he decided, he would have to do something about his weakness for women that were up to no good.&nbsp; In this case, it had ended well, Simeon was save, the sorceress had been almost diverting enough to, well, divert him from making his own escape, eight days later. Still, the result of it was that he had rolled into the city wanting nothing more than a quiet time.<br><br>So he had rented a room above one of the larger inns and then spent the next month plying his trade as a troubadour in all of the local hostelries.&nbsp; If this had been intended to facilitate a quiet time, he was sadly in error.&nbsp; His clear blue eyes and chestnut hair had drawn attention and his witty lyrics, delivered in a clear tenor had drawn even more.&nbsp; Soon he had a devoted following among the young ladies- and some of the young men- of the city and money enough to rent better accommodation.&nbsp; Despite the attentions of many of the ladies, he didn't indulge in making their dreams come true; he had accumulated enough energy from his time with the sorceress to produce Effects enough as he might possibly need.&nbsp; In any case, he was enjoying the fame and rising fortune; a scandal might well harm that.<br><br>It was at nobleman's party that Del saw her.&nbsp; It had been one of those events where he was unsure if he were there professionally or as a guest.&nbsp; He was famous enough now to be invited in his own right, but then the host had commented that any songs Del might offer would be no more than his due.&nbsp; So he took a place in the hall and began to play his lute, offering this and that piece until she entered the room.&nbsp; She was magnificent, flawless, an invitation for him to abandon his self-imposed celibacy.&nbsp; As luck would have it, he had finished a song just a heartbeat after she had entered the room.&nbsp; So he swung into another, one that had been guaranteed to get his female admirers swooning.&nbsp; As he sang, he kept his eyes on the dark haired beauty even after her melting eyes had met with his own.<br><br><em>Dim was the light before, and dim<br>The life it did illuminate.<br>Bright was the flame that called, and bright<br>The answer that did corruscate<br>In my heart and in my soul;<br>It brought new life and made me whole.<br><br>Lone was the path I took and lone<br>The life I lived until that call.<br>Warm was the joy I gained, and warm<br>The one who woke me to it all.<br>My eyes were opened for her sake<br>The love she gave helped me awake.<br><br>My life can never be the same<br>Since she called me by my name. </em><br><br>"You're wasting your time, mate," one of the musicians nearby said to him.&nbsp; "That's Lady Hamur, and she don't care for the likes of thee and me."&nbsp; He gestured to the lord who was hosting the evening.&nbsp; "Even he has to make it worth her while to spend time here."&nbsp; The musician rubbed his fingers together as though he were rubbing coins together.&nbsp; "You can have any other lass here tonight for free, if you catch my drift.&nbsp; She might be said to be the best lay in the country, but in the dark all cats are black, ain't they."<br><br>Del smiled at the musician and shook his head, he knew better, much better than that.&nbsp; And so it was that he had taken the effort to learn of this Lady Seren Hamur and to work his way through her vetting process to become one of the lucky few who would be permitted to spend their money on her.&nbsp; Fortunately, for him, thanks to his popularity as a troubadour, money was now no object as he opened the door to meet and, speak to, the lady for the first time.&nbsp; Perhaps she would remember him from the nobleman's party; he was determined that she would remember him after this meeting.<br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>31-12-2008, 05:56:12</strong>
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				It was a foreigner this time. Interesting that, she didn't often pull them, or at least not one who was of high enough standing that her servants would let him past the first set of questioners. After all Seren had better things to attend to then see all the men who wished to bed her, there were so many and so few were actually worth her time. At least to her mind, and when it came to her body that was all that mattered to her. <br><br>Her dark eyes moved over him curiously, he was handsome, exotic and different, what with that ligther hair color and those bright blue eyes. She did like blue eyes, so refreshing and clear, especially after a life time of growing up with a mostly brown eyed majority to live with. Her own eyes were brown and she was more interested in their shade of chocolate amber then any male she had yet to come across. And the courtesan spared a moment to consider how they would look together, good, striking and awe inspiring. A smile curved her lips, he had one point in his favor, his looks worked opposite of hers in a lovely manner, they would look good together, and to her appearances did matter, regardless of whatever fop mothers and fathers told their children. To the world, appearances did matter. <br><br>The female lifted her fan slightly then, catching the sight of her friend who passed her the paper with this man's information on it. He was a singer apparently, a nearly famous one in the town, and a newcomer. Interesting that, she scanned over the rest, glancing back up at him with a slight smirk to her full lips. So he had been the one at that party a week or so ago, the one who had had such a lovely singing voice. What would he sound like in bed? Would he sing for her? Oh she certainly hoped so, she exchanged a lidded glanced with Syran, a spark of amusement in her eyes. This might very well prove to be fun, and since he was exotic he might know a few tricks she had yet to discover, interesting was always good. <br><br>He was suppose to sit and as he neared the chair she slowly licked her lips, leaning back in her chair, taking a deep breath that pushed her breasts up against the low neckline of her bodice, her dark eyes fixed on his as she tilted her head slightly. She was like a cat playing with its prey, and though she had already decided to take him to bed she was going to make him work for it a bit. Put him through his paces as it were. "Name?" The one word came sliding across the air like silk against skin, the husky note of her voice made it sound like she really had just arisen from bed. "I assume&nbsp; you already have the <em>pleasure</em> of knowing mine."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>31-12-2008, 23:27:36</strong>
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				Del's lips twisted in a curious half smile as he took in the tableau beyond the door.&nbsp; There were two women seated in the room, one sat higher than the other, and both were beautiful to behold.&nbsp; The beauty of one, however, was like the light of the sun&nbsp; compared with a burning torch: the torch light was visible but in the sunlight, it lacked the intensity to cast a shadow.&nbsp; So it was with the two women.&nbsp; One her own, the one could easily draw a man's gaze, yet while the other was present, she would be hardly noticed.&nbsp; And that other, raised slightly higher, was Lady Hamur, the beauty who had so captivated his gaze on the night of the party.<br><br>He met her eyes as she studied him, looking him over, and his smile broadened fractionally.&nbsp; His percipience gave him a vague, incomplete impression of what she was thinking.&nbsp; She was impressed with him,with his hair it seemed and, on learning this he tilted his head forwards and then back, letting his hair move around his shoulders before looking straight into her lovely eyes.&nbsp; He had been in enough situations like this to know that the deal was done, or as good as.&nbsp; He had met those that had talked of the Great Game, but Del knew better.&nbsp; Life was not a game to be played with skill and cunning, nor a thread in the tapestry of fate to be woven by others.&nbsp; Rather it was a pulse in the heartbeat of creation, a rhythm that invited the feet to dance and was the dance itself.&nbsp; There were a few dance steps yet to be taken just now, he knew, and so he stepped forward and prepared to dance the great dance with her with all of his skill.<br><br>He walked slowly around the chair, resting his hand on its back, before sitting down.&nbsp; He leaned forwards as she leaned back and smiled, his eyes twinkling, a very knowing mouse indeed.&nbsp; He tilted his head as he heard her speak for the first time: it was as enchantingly sultry as he was and, unbidden, an image of the sorceress came to his mind.&nbsp; Yet the sorceress could not help to match this woman's beauty.<br><br>"<em>Knowing</em> you" he replied glibly, his voice soft yet well modulated enough to carry the emphasis clearly.&nbsp; "The pleasure of <em>knowing</em> you, Lady Hamur is the inducement that brings me here.&nbsp; I am Del, milady, Del Fulton, and I place myself at your service."&nbsp; He sat up slightly, still keeping his eyes locked on hers.&nbsp; "You are the only person I've seen in this city that seems to have even the slightest grasp of the Dance."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>06-01-2009, 01:22:32</strong>
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				Her lips quirked as he tilted his head, this man was too handsome for his own good and seemed to know it. Hopefully he would either be smarter then Jerald and keep his nose to his own affairs or dumber then he appeared and not notice anything. As long as he didn't meddle into her life beyond her body they would get along fine. Anything more and his life would end with her scarves or perhaps massage oils. Those were fun as well, a touch tidier and interesting. To watch and see a man go from the delight her talented hands could give with a full body massage to the agony of the poison killing them. Perhaps it would be kinder if she made up some sort of oil that killed quicker, without pain. But she wanted those who had spurned, harmed or angered her to feel her hate and fear her before they died. It added such a nice taste to things. <br><br>Seren turned her attention back to the blue eyed man before her, her dark eyes thoughtful. His body was well formed, handsome as the rest of him, and she enjoyed the way he moved, he was graceful in a masculine way. His voice came then, enjoyable to the ear, used as carefully and with as much thought she used hers. He was going to play the game of words with her as well and her eyes darkened for a moment, it was uncertain if it was with amusement, delight or dismissal. For certainly all three passed through her mind. She didn't want to take to bed a man that might match her in wits, as appealing as he might seem. <br><br>Knowing her, so he had gotten a look or tale of her beforehand, not been invited by her servants. Only well off enough and well known enough that he would pass through her servants. Interesting. His eyes were fixed on hers, bright and burning and she found herself fixed for a moment before she dropped her gaze and gave a soft yawn, as if bored. Her graceful fingers snapped open her fan and she lifted it, giving a lanquid wave. Seren's eyes were hard when they looked up again, but hard only in the same melting heat that drove so many men to distraction. "I invited those interested in the dance of the bedroom to this interview, not those wanting to Dance that Game."<br><br>She stood then, her skirts rustling and her full figure apparent as she swayed toward him, snapping the fan shut before tapping it on his shoulder. "I never take smart men to bed, they prove too troublesome. Enjoy your stay in the city." <br><br>And with one last intense look those drowning chocolate eyes moved away and she gestured to Syran to follow her as she swept from the room, leaving behind the lingering musky scent of her perfume. She was not like other females that used floral scents but rather earthy ones, vanilla and cinnamon. The horse breeder came forward then, a soft chuckle falling from her lips. Her beauty was a softer thing then her friends, although enough to get her noticed in her own right with straight black hair and bright amber eyes. "You almost had an in sir, next time know your partner before you reveal too much." With another shake of her head and a laugh she too followed her friend out the door. Seren had been stopped there, waiting for the other female before both started down the hall toward the garden to the west side of the lavish town house. <br><br>"I suppose the next batch should be called tomorrow..." the courtesan mused.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>06-01-2009, 19:58:58</strong>
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				Del watched the interplay of emotions as they passed over Seren's lovely features.&nbsp; She was skilled at hiding her emotions all right, but there were traces there for a skilled reader to identify.&nbsp; She felt threatened by him it seemed, threatened by his intelligence.&nbsp; Now, that was interesting, that she found an intelligent lover a threat.&nbsp; Ooooh, he thought, shivering a little with anticipation, she was a bad girl there was more than the usual naughtiness that was the courtesan's lot,&nbsp; That explained a lot, why he was so keen on getting into her bed and why she seemed so skittish when he had alluded to the Dance; there were some who described politics as a merry dance.<br><br>As she turned away with her dismissive comment about the "dance of the bedroom" and her throwaway line about smart men being troublesome, Del let a soft sigh pass his lips.&nbsp; Her attendant's comment about revealing too much gave him some more thought about the bewitching creature who was walking out of the room now, and perhaps out of his life.&nbsp; And then she gave him the opening.<br><br>"Interviewing again tomorrow?"&nbsp; Del called after her. his voice rising in inflection, the tone light, questioning and almost, but not quite, teasing.&nbsp; "I'll be here with a feather, an egg cup and a pencil, if you want an audition of how one can get even more fun from the bedroom's dance if you perform it in other rooms."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>07-01-2009, 01:57:42</strong>
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				She hadn't expected him to keep trying, no man tried again once she had dismissed him, and if he did he often found himself discouraged upon that line of thought, violently. Still the courtesan turned slowly to glance at him, her dark peru eyes narrowed but glinting a touch with amusement. Seren's lips quirked slightly, compressing into a smaller line then the full lips did naturally as she posed there in the hall glancing at him.<br><br>The brunette glanced at her friend again for a moment, arms coming to cross under her bust and folded, forcing the considerable mounds upward more, straining against the rich russet of her silk gown. "Do you not know when to quit sir?" The words came in a teasing mocking tone, lilting through the air as first one small step was taken before another followed it and she was flowing, gliding down the hall toward him, moving like a dream, a goddess in her sensuality and well aware of it. She halted just before him, glancing up at him through the veil of her thick lashes, her lips again parted, this time in a smile that lavished and coaxed, coy and inviting. She let loose all her charms, after all in the interviews she presented her body and rated the men on their charm, she restrained herself. No reason to do this now.<br><br>Her pink tongue swept out for a moment, wetting her lips, slowly before tilting her head back, moving her body closer to his, beyond the bounds of propriety but not quiet touching, though he could most likely feel the heat from her silk incased form. One slender hand came to softly caress down from his shoulder, moving lower steadily, tracing idle patterns as she leaned up, her lips hovering just against his cheek, murmuring words there, her breath tickling against the skin. The tone was one meant for lovers. <br><br>"Do not..." here her nails raked slightly over the lower part of his torso, moving slower the other hand on his back, her lips pressed against his skin in a soft, teasing kiss, her lips parted to let him feel the teasing warmth of her mouth. "...try to outdo a courtesan...." here the hand at his back kneaded slightly at his ass, having no modesty or need for it. The other hand, at his front softly cupped and stroked at his manhood even as her lips set against his and she invaded his mouth with her tongue and lips, her teeth catching at his lower lip to tug and worry it in a manner that drew groans from most men. "at her work...."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>08-01-2009, 23:59:17</strong>
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				"Know when to quit, milady?, Del replied softly as the courtesan turned and aimed the considerable ordinance of her cleavage at him.&nbsp; "I've never been accused of that vice, quite the opposite in fact." He tilted his head and looked at her through his fringe and swallowed.&nbsp; He could feel all of her considerable charm and charisma strike him like rays from the noonday sun.&nbsp; He let his lips part in anticipation as she glided towards him, her movements slow and deliberately sensual.&nbsp; Oh indeed, Del thought admiring the overwhelmingly provocative sway of her hips, she was a bad girl alright, the sort that he seemed to have no ability to resist.<br><br>And then she was there, before him, as close as she could be without touching, directing incendiary glances at him through her lashes.&nbsp; As her hand came up to caress his shoulder and chest, he slowly caressed her other arm, his fingers spreading a gentle warmth through her skin. He whisper spread goosebumps over the skin of his cheek.&nbsp; When she kissed him, he responded instinctively, letting a soft moan of desire pass into her mouth.<br><br>When Seren's hand pressed against his buttock, he moulded his body against hers, trapping her other hand between them.&nbsp; Like her, he felt no need for propriety.&nbsp; Even had the nature of the trapped hand's placement not meant that she was well aware of how she was affecting him, he was not in the habit of hiding his desires.&nbsp; As her teeth pulled on his lip, he suddenly pulled his head back to free it before kissing her passionately.<br><br>He slowly began to roll his hips against her, rubbing the palm of her hand with his tumescence through the fabric of his breeches.&nbsp; His hands slid to the small of her back and then up her spine to his shoulders and he whispered her an answer to her injunction.<br><br>"A courtesan at her work?" Del half moaned, half whispered against her lips, "I've never considered it work, as such, more of a vocation."&nbsp; And then he pressed his lips to hers, his tongue invading her mouth and his fingers worrying the fastenings of her dress.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>12-01-2009, 18:43:13</strong>
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				She hadn't expected him to touch her, men were mostly selfishly focused on their own pleasure, especially at first. But he touched her, his hand softly moving down her arm, and spreading a warmth, from his touch. Her body was reacting to his as well, instead of him just reacting to hers. Things were falling out of her control for the moan in her mouth summoned a soft whimper from herself that was not preplanned, but artless. Their bodies were pressed together then, by him stepping closer, pressing closer to her, and Seren felt her body flush in heat and damp with response to the feel of his body against hers. <br><br>She had worked in this trade for years, had bartered off her body for money and power with no second thoughts, she hadn't needed them. After all the only value women had in the world was their virginity or their sensuality, since the first had been stolen from her she exploited the latter. A startled sound left her lips as his took to hers in a demanding and passionate kiss, she felt like she was the one being seduced instead of seducing and it felt odd, yet she could not make herself break the kiss, could not make herself pull away as her hand stroked and cupped the ridge of his manhood between them, urging the flames of his desire higher, and unknowingly feeding to her own as well as his hands drew a low shivering moan from her.<br><br>His words caught her back to some of her senses, though she let his tongue take her mouth, granted that was as much of a surrender as she would give, meeting him with a fiery kiss of her own, eager to feel those clever hands against her bare skin as his fingers worked at her dress. That was when reality came back, realizing that she <em>wanted</em> her clothing to come off. That never really happened, not for a man or woman when pleasure was involved. She broke their kiss then and all but wrenched her body back from his, breathing slightly heavily. Seren turned her body, presenting him with her back as she tried to regain her infamous composure, inhaling shakily and steeling herself, a hand lifting to softly touch her kiss swollen lips, her dark eyes flashing to her friend before she settled back into the self assured courtesan that could easily have been a queen. At least she tried to.<br><br>Her head moved back, along with part of her body, a teasing body language, her eyes showed heat and anger in equal measure, he had somehow gotten her off her guard, had made her really feel things rather then preplanned them. She had encased herself in a shield of ennui and disinterest in her partners and her work for years, detached from everything. She didn't want to feel as much as that one stupid kiss had thrust into her. "You can have your opinions, however I have no use for you. So leave."<br><br>With that she turned again, gliding down the corridor although more just simply grace and speed then sensual teasing now as she hastened as much as she could without running. She soon vanished from the hallway, disappearing into her private study, collapsing into a divan there as she shook her head at herself. <em>How in the world...</em>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>13-01-2009, 23:07:53</strong>
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				Del's left eyebrow lifted quizzically as Seren pulled away from him before beating a hurried retreat.&nbsp; He wondered what was going on.&nbsp; She had seemed to enjoy his caresses, seemed to relish the feel of his lips on hers, seemed to be losing herself in the moment.&nbsp; Perhaps that was it, perhaps it was that which scared her.&nbsp; He watched her retreating form disappear and he frowned in thought.&nbsp; Yes, that would be consistent, he thought, the way she had reacted at the thought of "the game" suggested that she prided herself with the ability to be in control at all times.&nbsp; If that were so, then it stood to reason that she'd run: she'd not want to lose control.<br><br>What had she lost?&nbsp; What had happened to her?&nbsp; What was the damage that had been done to her that she had wrapped herself in such a thickness of emotional scar tissue?&nbsp; She was, Del decided, held and trapped in a pattern that must have lasted for years.&nbsp; He sighed and rolled his eyes.&nbsp; There it was again, once more, it seemed, his libido had led him into a situation where he was in a position to help.&nbsp; Typical, he thought, typical.<br><br>He frowned and, as he always did in such situations, he wondered what Honeycup would do.&nbsp; She insisted that she was most emphatically not his mentor.&nbsp; Yet, she also insisted on fulfilling the role, often dragging him off to retreats that she termed "boot camp" when one of his escapades went awry.&nbsp; It was inevitable that he would consider what his illustrious "not-mentor" would do.&nbsp; And in doing so, he laughed, for she would remind him of the Code of Ananda's guidance: <em>Even trees rent by lightning may grow new fruit</em>, and then go and do what she was going to do anyway.&nbsp; And so would he.<br><br>He thought for a moment and worked out where Seren would be and carefully made his way out the way he came.&nbsp; At the door, he picked up his lute and rather than leaving the compound, he turned and made his way to a patch of grass beneath what he was certain was her window.&nbsp; And there he began to strum his lute, picking out a gentle melody before he began to sing, his rich tenor voice carrying up to the window with ease.<br><br><div align="center"><em><br>Sinking slowly, sliding deep,<br>Falling, falling, falling.<br>It pulls at you like wasted sleep-<br>Calling, calling, calling.<br><br>What is this pull that draws me here?<br>What keeps me coming back?<br>What seeds my dreams with darkness<br>And turns my vision black.<br><br>Sinking slowly, sliding deep,<br>Falling, falling, falling.<br>It pulls at you like wasted sleep-<br>Calling, calling, calling.<br><br>She comes to me and calls to me;<br>She preys upon my dreams<br>And subtly plays upon me,<br>Though innocent she seems.<br><br>Sinking slowly, sliding deep,<br>Falling, falling, falling.<br>It pulls at you like wasted sleep-<br>Calling, calling, calling. <br></em></div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>14-01-2009, 18:28:04</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Just who in the world did that man think he was? <br><br>The nerve of him, thinking he could seduce her, <em>her</em> it was almost laughable, no one got the better of Seren Humar, no one. At least no one who lived to tell the tale and in the end that meant that they hadn't gotten anything from her or over her. She was a solo tower in the world, detached from everything with no need for anything but what she wished for. Yes, her world was ordered to her wishes, to her desires. It was her world and no one elses. It was funny, she mused as she lay on the divan, her fingers idly tracing the velvet of the cushions, that while most females would place themselves in an ivory tower of virtue to ensure their independence she had gone the opposite way, painting her tower a blazing red of a harlot and living life the way she wished to live. <br><br>It was freeing, it was hard and demanding. It was a tricky balance, living in that red, letting others see it. Such a tricky thing to do, walking on the knives edge of approval. But now, now no one would dare to insult her, demean her in any manner. But she couldn't afford to ever get fully lost in something, when she shared her bed with men or women she found her pleasure to be sure, she climaxed regularly, but it was a displaced one, her body wanted it but her mind was never fully caught up in it. So she retained full and complete control at all moments. She slept in a lavish bed, in silks and satins, yet she would wake the moment a door opened or something sounded off. Seren was never really off her guard.<br><br>Her ears picked up faint sounds, and then a voice came, singing, rich and appealing, the lyrics of the song also calling to something inside her. <em>What seeds my dreams with darkness/And turns my vision black.</em> Darkness, vision...her thoughts began to wonder then, laying on the couch in her study, listening to the voice of the bard as he tried to woo her. But he was only making things worse for himself, he was rousing memories with that damned song of his. <br><br><em>Red, so much red. It was deeper, darker then the color of the red, red roses in bloom outside the window pane. They were under the assault of the heavy raindrops and strong winds; it was much easier for Seren to look at them. But then the lightning flashed and the nine year old trembled; her eyes flew back to the bed, another flash came then and it was revealed. It was a sea of vivid, glorious, hideous crimson, stark against the snow white of the linen sheets upon which the body rested.<br><br>The body? She blanched at her own thoughts, was she so removed? Already? Seren stood in the doorway, ironically bitter that symbolism, a threshold in her life; her thin nightrail was not enough to keep away the chill that was spreading through her young body. Just as the flickering flame of the candle in her quaking hands was not enough to hold the shadows that crouched at bay. <br><br>Seren took a step forward, thunder crashed, cracked directly overhead, and all she wanted was to turn and run and flee, to deny this all and remove this sight from being seared into her eyes. This would be the moment that stained her life. Yet she couldn't, Seren was drawn toward the rumpled bed, her whole self trembling as one word broke from her lips in a broken whisper.<br><br>"Mama"</em><br><br>The courtesan shook her head hard, a string of curses and oaths leaving those pretty full lips as she stood, picking up a vase, one that she had never overly liked anyway and opened the window to look down at Del. Her dark brown eyes were glittering, but this time with tears instead of anger and she heaved the vase out and over the window edge, watching as it spiraled down toward him. Seren didn't really want to hurt him, she just wanted him to go away. Go away with that too keen mind and the hot lips that drove her to distraction. And with the damned ability to sense out what she thought or what would upset her. <br><br>"Leave."<br><br>One word, spoken with anger, rage and years of pain behind it. The window snapped shut again after that and she collapsed back onto the divan to let herself cry for the first time in years. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>14-01-2009, 21:57:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As the vase fell towards him, Del frowned in concentration and struck a broken chord on the lute letting the notes ripple through the air to surround him.&nbsp; The vase slowed in its descent as the window gradually slammed shut.&nbsp; As always, Del smiled to himself about the inherent incongruity of time manipulations.&nbsp; Where he lacked the ability of some other mages to exert a force on the vase to slow or deflect it, Del could- at a pinch- changed his temporal frame of reference.&nbsp; Consequently, for a few seconds- as far as it seemed to him- everything moved much much slower.&nbsp; Were anyone watching, however, it would seem that Del moved with preternatural speed to step to the side and ready his arms to catch the vase before it shattered on the ground.<br><br>Whether time was magically slowed or not, the impact of the vase in Del's arms was enough to wind him and he groaned with the effort. even as his personal time-frame returned to match that of the wider world around him.&nbsp; Well, he thought, now he had an excuse to go up to her room.&nbsp; After all, she must be worried that her beautiful vase, mustn't she?&nbsp; Of course, he still had to get past all of her servants and functionaries to reach her room, but that was a simple matter of a piece of doggerel that he had learned many years ago:<br><br><div align="center"><em>You can't see me as I wander here;<br>Inside, outside, I simply disappear.<br>I vanish in the sunlight<br>And dematerialize<br>And walk right past your scrutiny<br>Unseen before your eyes.</em></div><br>He was not capable of true invisibility of course, he had known only one who could master <em>that </em>art and the sorcerer in question commented that while it was possible to become invisible, it was an essentially useless art as it effectively left you blind.&nbsp; He had gone on to explain something about refracting light around himself meant that the light he needed to see never reached his eyes, but Del had a different take on the matter.&nbsp; The universe is essentially fair, if not equitable.&nbsp; So therefore the price to become invisible was to lose one's vision.&nbsp; <br><br>In any case, Del lacked the raw power to attempt to affect the path of light and instead had to rely on affecting how he was perceived.&nbsp; By singing the song and exerting his will, he could suddenly become unnoticeable.&nbsp; He had used this after several concerts to escape some of the more fanatical young ladies who had listened to his songs; it had seemed that they had wanted to tear his shirt from his back.&nbsp; He had nothing against the idea of young women wanting to tear the clothes from his body except that in this case they wanted to do so because they wanted to own a piece of him rather than for any carnal purpose.&nbsp; <br><br>However, the inherent fairness of the universe meant that while he could divert everyone's attention away from him with his little song, he was unable to pay much attention to anything other than singing it.&nbsp; Thus, he was able to sneak past all the various servants guarding Seren's presence but he did lose his way a few times.&nbsp; So it was some time later that he opened the door to her room and said simply, "I thought you'd like your vase back."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>10-03-2009, 20:13:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It hurt. She hated this, hated the tears that burned as they ran down her smooth cheeks, the weakness that they represented. She loathed that anything could rouse those memories, that memory. Seren was always in control, always. Only not today, not sense she had been stupid enough to kiss the bard. Why in the world couldn't she control herself when people presented her with a challenge? Well, no, she could, she just had never had to. Her strong personality ensured that she stole attention, her wiles and knowledge made sure she left all the others in the dust. She always won and got what she wanted. Part of her wanted to take the stupid man to her bed, just to show him how far out of his league he was playing.<br><br>But another, smarter, saner part, knew that was a horrible idea. And so she stayed in her study, sending Syran away when she knocked. A fire crackled in the room, keeping it warm, but she didn't move to light any other candles, just curled up on the divan, her head on satin pillows as she watched the flames dance. Her thoughts turned and wove, tears leaked from her eyes even after she had stemmed the flood. It was hard, remembering. She had worked long and hard on burying those memories so that they couldn't haunt her. There was a reason she never slept on white linen. Why she never wore white, even her undergarments were other colors, but never white. White was the sign of innocence, of trust, it was a mark that just asked to be hit. And she would not be hit by anyone.<br><br>No one would have guessed that the courtesan was in fact only twenty, so young. The last time she had cried had been sixteen, four years ago, when the man she had nearly married, the man she had entrusted dreams in, had betrayed her. He had died, she had cried and then the tears had vanished. She had only been a mark to him. No white, no tears, weakness was not allowed, welcomed, at all. The dull light of the fire, the crackle of the wood burning, were her only companions, she didn't pick up a book, or go to her painting over in one corner, she didn't do anything but stare at the flames and think. The tears halted, gone, only the stains on her face that dried were left to show that anything had happened. She stretched her face though and scrubbed the traces away completely.<br><br>When the door opened she didn't turn her head to look at the door, nor did she lift her eyes from the flames. "Go away..." she said in a tone that was impatient and weary before she heard Del's voice. Then she sat up slowly, turning her head, her cheeks were a touch pale beneath the tawny color, but it was hard to tell that in the room that was shuttered against the sun and with only the fire behind her to light it. The lighting threw her beauty into a stark relief, her dark eyes took sight of him and she shook her head. "If I had wanted it I wouldn't have thrown it at you. Now leave, I shan't say it again."<br><br>She turned her head away then, a clear dismissal. Why wouldn't this bard simply take no for an answer?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>15-03-2009, 22:25:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Good," Del said simply, setting the vase on the floor.&nbsp; &nbsp;"That way I shan't have to hear it again, will I?"&nbsp; He walked over to stand a few feet from her and sighed softly.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was plain that something had touched her, something deep, something much more than the loss of control that he had thought motivated her.&nbsp; &nbsp;Even trees rent by lightning may grow new fruit- the lines of her body, the brittle control audible in her voice, the way she hid her face from him: all these pointed to a metaphorical lightning strike in her past.&nbsp; &nbsp;Something in him evidently cast light on the memory of that strike and he would have gone but for the manifest pain that was almost palpable.&nbsp; &nbsp;He could not in conscience stand by and leave her in pain, a pain he had inadvertently caused.<br><br>"I can see that there is great pain in you. "&nbsp; Del's voice was soft and his eyes intent as he looked at her.&nbsp; &nbsp;"And I fear that I have been instrumental in bringing it you.&nbsp; &nbsp;Passions are the seat of the Self, and if they bleed, so too does the soul. "&nbsp; He stepped closer and laid his hand on her shoulder, letting the warmth of his inner self pulse through the contact.&nbsp; &nbsp;"I know not what I can do but I know full well that one should not be alone at such a time. "
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>20-03-2009, 20:47:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She did not turn to look at him, acknowledge him as she stared at the fire. Seren just wanted him to go away, he could do nothing but rouse more bad memories it seemed. Why wouldn't he just leave? Give up? She was infamous for her cruelty when roused to anger, whispers in the dark of her killing reached far and terrified no small number. But not this bard, no, he didn't see the cold ruthless killer, he had to bring out the weaker woman inside her. The courtesan did not know if she could ever forgive him for that.<br><br>He spoke then, the words cutting into her, her lips thinned and she kept herself tense and looking at the flames. When he touched her she flinched away, almost as if she was afraid he would strike her and when her dark eyes lifted to him there was a fear and a wild helplessness that flashed in them. Just for a moment though, and then they were shielded, down and when they glanced back up there was only anger and hard steel to be seen.<br><br>"I have never had the need of anyone at any point in my life. Touch me again and I'll call my guards down on your head and then you shall merely be a head to grace the points of my gate" she hissed out the words, scrambling backward, not carrying to look appealing and inviting right now. She just didn't want to be touched. No one touched her without her permission first, no one touched unless she said so, she was the one in control. Always, never the man or woman she took to bed, never those around her. Seren always had control about touching.<br><br>"Why won't you just give up?" She snapped at him, ire in her body language "Its obvious that I'm not welcome to your help."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>20-03-2009, 20:54:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Ah, but your need of help is much more obvious," Del said softly.&nbsp; &nbsp;He whistled gently and leaned against the window, looking at her.&nbsp; &nbsp;The pale moonlight painted his features with silver leaving his eyes in shadow.&nbsp; &nbsp;Which of the nine sacred passions had this woman touched and- more importantly- which had she tried to burn out of her life.&nbsp; &nbsp;Some of the passions translated easily from the ancient language in which they were first described; others were harder and modern language had no direct equivalents.<br><br>Certainly, she had ridden the passion that translated as some conjunction between lust and ambition to the limit, that was plain indeed.&nbsp; &nbsp;She had accrued power, that much was evident from her attitude.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her flight earlier had spoken either of the passion that was fear or perhaps the passion that was grief or sadness; it was hard to say exactly what he had touched in her earlier.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet what of the others?&nbsp; That combination of jealousy and envy must have had a part in fuelling her rise and she certainly seemed capable of rage and perhaps hate too, but what of the joy of wonder?&nbsp; What of love?&nbsp; What of that empathy, that sympathy that allowed one soul to touch another, however briefly?&nbsp; She had allowed these to wither, had perhaps strangled them.&nbsp; &nbsp;Whether she wanted it or no, she needed his help.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>21-03-2009, 04:18:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br>He was stubborn. Perhaps more so then she herself. She refused to look at him as he lounged against the window, refused to look at the handsome man who was now tormenting her. Why couldn't he just leave her in peace? Seren could feel his eyes on her and they were looking at more then just her beauty. that only annoyed her more, all that anyone was suppose to see about her was her beauty. She had spent years making sure that that would be all that anyone really saw of her person. Outside of her looks she was pampered, controlling, indulged. No one saw the pain or the loneliness. No one lived for long who knew about the children.<br><br>"There is no answer or calling between we two other then the lust of your body that will not be slaked with my body. Perhaps I was wrong" she summoned a laugh here, her lips compressing and her eyes flashing over to him with amusement in them, she was a consummate actress. "Perhaps you are not all that intelligent after all."<br><br>There was a look contempt on her face as she stood, walking toward him, drawn to him just like in the hallway. Her expression softened then, glancing up at him. "You can not help me, nor would you get anything for it. I am what my world has made me."<br><br>She turned then, walking toward the door.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>21-03-2009, 04:32:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Why should she think he wanted anything for helping her?&nbsp; He pondered the question a moment and then realised the reason; her inner life was so impoverished that she could not conceive of anyone doing anything for any reason other than that of personal gain.&nbsp; &nbsp;She was reduced to a complete and utter lack of hope, it seemed, not so much because&nbsp; things were bad for her but more because she simply could neither conceive that she could be helped not that any should want to&nbsp; make the attempt without personal gain.&nbsp; &nbsp;Softly, he sang, as she turned and walked away, a snatch of verse from John Dowland's Third and Last Book of Songs or Airs.<br><br>I saw my Lady weep,&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>And Sorrow proud to be advancèd so&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>In those fair eyes where all perfections keep.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>Her face was full of woe;&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>But such a woe (believe me) as wins more hearts<br>Than Mirth can do with her enticing parts.<br><br>It was unlikely that the verse should have any effect, given the damage to her soul, but perhaps, just perhaps, it might just touch her enough to turn her.&nbsp; &nbsp;Perhaps, she might prove worthy of his efforts,&nbsp; As the Code of Ananda said, there are some whom it is best not to awaken.&nbsp; &nbsp;Perhaps she was one of those.&nbsp; &nbsp;In any case, he would not force her, he would not push her into any action she was not willing to take, for he believed strongly that a cure imposed was no cure at all.&nbsp; &nbsp;This was as far as he would go, this was as much as he would do.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was up to her now.&nbsp; &nbsp;She could turn and just be herself or she could carry on and leave.<br><br>"I don't want anything," he said.&nbsp; &nbsp;"You, however, do.&nbsp; &nbsp;Even if you don't know what it is. "<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>21-03-2009, 20:49:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sorrow and Mirth, such odd things to be in a song together, she paused as he sang, as his voice filled the air with song, because, regardless of how much he annoyed and enraged her at turns, his voice was marvelous. Addictive almost. Sorrow, weeping got nothing, it didn't work, it was worthless, meaningless. There was so much sorrow and pain in the world already, no one cared to help those who suffered from it, who were lost in the darkness of the truth of humanity. Humanity was disgusting, pure and simple.<br><br>Mirth, enticing parts, she was enticing, completely. And it won more hearts then sorrow or woe did.<br><br>People wanted happiness and pleasure, that was why she controlled as much as she did, that was why she had as much power, because she gave them happiness, pleasure beyond anything they could have imagined. She controlled pleasure, in more ways then one, most of the other courtesans in the city worked under her, for her. If one angered her there would be no easing of physical need, and merchants wisely obeyed her instructions as well.<br><br>"That song is pure stupidity."<br><br>She snapped back at him, turning to look at him with annoyance in those drowning brown eyes. Her eyes narrowed, and she frowned, softly caressing her body through her gown. "Are you going to honestly say you don't want me? You don't lust for my body?"<br><br>There was a slightly scared undertone to her voice, she was only twenty one, she had to still be appealing, still drive men crazy. She could not be loosing her touch. Yet she summoned that sultry teasing laugh all the same. "Please, I have everything I could ever want, why don't you tell me what you think I"m lacking?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>21-03-2009, 20:56:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Pure stupidity?" Del asked, his blue eyes glinting as he swiftly reassessed the situation.&nbsp; &nbsp;She was not utterly closed off, it seemed.&nbsp; &nbsp;She was not so damaged by whatever bane of her past it was which&nbsp; had been awakened in her memory by his earlier song that she was going to throw away this chance.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was a trace of doubt in her eyes, a shadow that limned her visage with uncertainty.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was pride there too- expressed by her bearing- but the brittleness of her voice betrayed that as a pride borne out of insecurity.&nbsp; &nbsp;And that insecurity was, no doubt, bound up with her past.<br><br>"It's a song," he said, simply.&nbsp; &nbsp;"It's not meant to be profound, it just describes how a man's heart was touched when he saw a beautiful woman crying. "&nbsp; He shrugged and stepped towards her a little.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was plain that she was taken, plain that she was shaken, by the swiftness she fell back on the courtesan's oldest art.&nbsp; &nbsp;Despite all one might think, the most successful courtesans were not necessarily those whose skills in the bedroom were unrivalled, nor did they have to be those that were the most beautiful.&nbsp; &nbsp;Success as a courtesan came from the ability to sell oneself, from the ability to attract attention and to make those looking believe the fantasy.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was called the 'lure' and Lady Hamur was very skilled in it.&nbsp; &nbsp;The fact she was employing it now meant that she was desperately trying to regain her control of the situation.<br><br>"Of course I want you," he replied to her question.&nbsp; &nbsp;"You're perhaps the most beautiful women I've ever met.&nbsp; &nbsp;I'm certain that, of those that see you, you make every man hard and a fair number of women itch.&nbsp; &nbsp;But like the man in the song, your tears touch me more than your beauty. "&nbsp; He was very close to her now and his fingers reached as if to brush one of her crystalline tears from her cheek&nbsp; but stopped short, a fraction of an inch from the silky softness of her skin.<br><br>"You have all the possessions you could need," he said.&nbsp; &nbsp;"Of that, I have no doubt.&nbsp; &nbsp;But tell me, m'lady, do you ever take any pleasure for yourself?&nbsp; You please others but how many of them please you? You seem to be always in control- what I say to you is that you need to stop. "&nbsp; And, at last, his fingers touched her cheek, hardly moving, the contact as light as gossamer.&nbsp; &nbsp;"You need to just be, to live in the moment.&nbsp; &nbsp;You need to enjoy yourself. "&nbsp; He lifted the fingers an his blue eyes gazed into the rich brown of hers.&nbsp; &nbsp;"No one knows I'm here, you can enjoy yourself with me, be it conversation, a game of chess or simply slinging insults at me.&nbsp; &nbsp;Whatever you want.&nbsp; I'll not tell that you let your guard down. "
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>21-03-2009, 21:02:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was just a song. Seren had over reacted, badly, extremely and inwardly she cursed herself for that stupidity. She should have just kept going, she should have left this maddening man and stormed off to lick her wounds and banish her fears by herself in another room. She should have, she should have. But she hadn't, she was still here, still looking at him, still caught by his voice, by his words. How could he understand so much, know so much? No one understood her, saw her, she had spent years crafting the shell that she presented to the world. You couldn't go through life in her type of occupation and wear your feelings openly.<br><br>He admitted to wanting her, she relaxed a touch. Everyone was attracted to her, everyone. Her coloring improved and she looked almost smug, her lips quirked in a confident smile as she looked at him. But he had to keep talking, to keep speaking and remove the comfort she was finding in herself. Tears, tears were worthless, horrid things. He was there, next to her, and she looked up at him, feeling him just an inch from her if not less. Only instead of like in the hallway, when she had been in control, teasing him, now it was he who was in control, who was finding what he was looking for, making her face a truth she hated.<br><br>His questions filled her and she asked herself, had she found any pleasure in this life? Not true pleasure, not really, just the surety that no one would hurt her again, that no one could. That she called the shots. That was what her pleasure was. As a child she had been a easy going sweetheart, she had worked hard to please her parents and tutors, deep under everything she just wanted others to be happy. But that was so deep and in such dark depth of her soul that she would never, ever acknowledge it. She would not be weak.<br><br>But part of her wanted to give into him, to just relax, to do what he said, let her guard down. Her breath halted for a moment, stolen as he touched her, so softly. When was the last time someone had touched her first? Soft and sweet. Her eyes fluttered down, he was offering her something that she could never take. He was a stranger, a foreigner, and no one knew he was in here with her, no one would ever know. Seren trembled softly, Del was the greatest temptation she had ever come across, but what he asked was such a great risk.<br><br>The courtesan opened her eyes looking up at him, anger and shame glimmering in the deep peru as she slapped his hand away from her. "You...can't...just stop. There is no guard to be let down, there is nothing other then a courtesan."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>21-03-2009, 21:07:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"It's not a competition, Seren," Del said, using her given name for the first time.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was a definite ambiguity to her words: you can't just stop.&nbsp; &nbsp;Was she explaining her life choice or was she asking him to continue.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was that tell-tale pause there that was absent in the rest of her words.&nbsp; &nbsp;And the rest of her words were clearly prevarication: all of her actions spoke to her guarded nature and, well, he knew- better than most- that courtesans were always more than just courtesans.&nbsp; &nbsp;He lifted his hand to her cheek again, cradling it with his palm and leaned towards her.<br><br>"I'm not asking for anything except to give you what you need," he said, his breath caressing her lips as his face neared hers.&nbsp; &nbsp;"Time. " There was the faintest of brushes of his lips against hers, each word offering her a tantalising ghost of a kiss.&nbsp; &nbsp;"You need time simply to be Seren, the woman. "<br><br>With that, he finally let his lips press against hers, softly and gently but firmly too.&nbsp; &nbsp;The kiss was simply that, a pressure of lip against lip and yet it was also more than that.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was the start of a connection, the promise of more to come and a wordless assurance that there were no strings attached.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was just a kiss and a kiss that was soon broken, for he lifted his lips from hers and he stood there, his hand on his cheek, looking into her eyes.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>21-03-2009, 21:18:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Life is a competition" she muttered, her thought so confused that she did not realize at first that he had used her first name. Then she glanced up at him, her eyes narrowing as she started to frown. Then his hand came up, cupping her cheek. The warmth of his touch startled her and this time she didn't pull away, just looked up at him, her gaze softening.<br><br>He wanted to give to her, would she accept? She did not know, and she was discovering that it was hard to think when his breath teased against her lips, so close to her, it was a fine line of torment she herself had used time and again. But this man was so skillful he could give her a challenge for wiles, though his words were better then her own. Men did not often want females to speak when they were seeking their pleasure. Simply the woman, she had never been simply the woman, not since she was thirteen and sold off at a house party in a cruel, disgusting auction. Not since she had been raped by a fat pig of a man. After him she had killed all who hurt her, who dared to violate her control. She was the courtesan, because the courtesan always had control of her life.<br><br>Seren's thoughts moved further, her eyes darkening as she found herself reliving those dark, horrible moments. But then his lips were against hers, soft but firm, he would not let her ignore him. She had stiffened at that touch, her eyes dark and shadowed with memories but her eyes fluttered shut and she softened into it. Gentle, soft, he would not force her. She could be a woman here, because he would not force. She hoped. when he broke the kiss she stayed still, her eyes slowly opening to look up at him. "You betray me you die." she whispered out.<br><br>She would let this happen, because she wanted it so badly. But Seren was still herself, she trusted hardly anyone without the threat of fear to keep them in line.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>21-03-2009, 21:25:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				If Seren's words startled Del, he did not show it.&nbsp; &nbsp;Instead, he slid one hand to the small of her back.&nbsp; gently pressing her against him.&nbsp; &nbsp;The trauma of her past must have been very severe indeed, for her even to say such a thing and not think it as anything but normal.&nbsp; &nbsp;And yet, her she was, her words hard as stone and yet her eyes, looking up at him, as fragile as the finest glass.<br><br>"I'll not betray you, Seren," he replied, softly kissing up her jawline, so that his words were breathed directly into her ear.&nbsp; &nbsp;At the same time, the hand on the small of her back bagan to trace a subtle spiral over her skin through the fabric of her dress.&nbsp; &nbsp;"You deserve better than someone who would break faith with you. "<br><br>He trailed his lips back to hers, leaving a tingling line across her cheek.&nbsp; &nbsp;His arousal was obvious pressing against her and he kissed her again, this time deeply.&nbsp; &nbsp;With one hand caressing her cheek and the other stroking her back, he captured her lower lip with his teeth, biting slightlly to dent the skin.&nbsp; &nbsp;He pulled it before releasing it, his eyes cloudy as he stared back at her.&nbsp; &nbsp;And then he leaned in to kiss her on the hollow of her throat, stepping backwards, pulling her towards the bed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>21-03-2009, 21:36:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Seren let him urge her closer, the hand on the elegant line of her spine pressing her closer to him, she looked up at him, her eyes unable to glance away as they stood, quiet in the study that attached to her bedroom, the flames crackling faintly. He spoke his reply with a kiss, several kisses, along the delicate firm line of her jaw, her eyes fluttered shut since his blue ones were no longer there to gaze at, focusing on the soft stirrings of her body at the gentle kisses, the tender flush of heat that spread through her.<br><br>A soft tremble when through her at the caress up her back, his words that followed making her breath catch nearly painfully in her chest. She deserved...yet she had never had. Not even her siblings knew the full burden that she bore, or even half of it really, she sheltered them, protected them, even from herself. She gave so that they would be safe. It was worth it but it wore on her.<br><br>Del's lips were moving again then, across her cheek and her eyes opened, the chocolate peru so deep a color, so full of emotions, it was almost like staring into a black abyss. His lips touched hers even as the rich color of her eyes fixed on his blue ones, kissing him back soft but eager, the soft caressing of his hands urging that soft fire that touched her here and there higher. When he teases her lower lip, biting down slightly a low whimper came from her as she felt her body clench in response, she pressed herself closer to him, her pulse speeding. The look in his eyes sent another shiver down her spine and she arched her head back to make it easier for him to kiss the hollow of her throat were the pulse beat against the skin in time with the racing of her heart.<br><br>Seren went with Del, letting him guide her, trusting him for this one glimmer in time.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>21-03-2009, 21:37:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It would have been so easy for Del to let his mouth descend into the perfumed valley of Seren's decolletage but he forbore from doing so.&nbsp; &nbsp;Instead, as they crossed the threshold to her bedroom, he lickked up her throat to the point of her chin, flicked her lips with his tongue and then perched a kiss on the very tip of her nose.&nbsp; &nbsp;His lips twisted in a smile as his eys twinkled at her and he spoke, his tone both oddly formal and yet rich with the promise of shared amusement.<br><br>"Wilt thou permit me to enter your bedchamber, m'lady Seren?" He requested, the suppressed excitement in his body pressed against her very evident.&nbsp; &nbsp;"I have asked thee to open thyself much more than thou has been used and thus I would understand if thou dost prefer to keep thy bedchamber sacrosanct. "&nbsp; And then the roguish twinkle in his eyes and the mischievous grin took over and his voice took on a less archaic mode of speech.&nbsp; &nbsp;"After all the couch looks fairly confortable.&nbsp; &nbsp;It just depends which you think will be the most fun. "<br><br>All the while he was making his request, his hingers were busy.&nbsp; &nbsp;The hand on her cheek had slid up into the glory of her hair and then down to caress the nape of her neck and her shoulders.&nbsp; &nbsp;At the same time the fingers of the other hand walked their way up her spine until both hands met.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet the fingers remained busy so that, when he punctuated his remark about her couch with by capturing her oh so kissable lips with his mouth, the fastenings at the back of her dress began to yield to the insistence of his fingers.<br><br>As the back of her dress parted to reveal her creamy skin, his fingers caressed the sinuous curve of her spine.&nbsp; &nbsp;The pressure of his lips on hers remained constant and his tongue parted her lips.&nbsp; &nbsp; He twined his tongue around hers and he let the warmth of his body flood into her.&nbsp; &nbsp;She had gone from anger to grief and now passion was growing in her.&nbsp; In the part of his mind not consumed with the evident joy to be had from touching the sensual beauty in his arms, he realised that this beginning was a delicate time and that seeing her vulnerable and open made her all the more appealing and engendered a strong feeling of protectiveness in him towards her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>21-03-2009, 21:38:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He surprised her. He wasn't moving fast, he wasn't forcing clothing off or ramming his hands into her bodice, he was being slow, teasing. As his tongue lapped up the slender line of the throat she found herself wondering if perhaps he would be the best lover she had had. When Del lay a kiss on the tip of her nose she laughed softly, glancing up at him curious as he spoke. He was so proper, and he was the first to ever really ask. Control, even a tiny bit, was still hers. Should she let him into her room? It was so hard to think clearly while his body was pressed against hers, while she could feel his arousal against her flat stomach. And with his eyes so sparkling and that melting grin. She had met her match indeed, because just as she could beguile a man he was able to do the same to her.<br><br>There was the couch, but that was small and she wanted this to be something more then just a tussle on her study couch, especially if she was only going to let him have this trust once. She was trusting him with far more then just her body, so why not let him in her bedroom?<br><br>Seren sighed softly as his hand moved up her cheek into the tumble of her dark hair, caressing her skin and down. He had very nice, very distracting hands. When his lips claimed hers again she melted into him, her lips parting in a eager welcome when his tongue parted them. She shivered at the feel of his fingers against her soft skin, and whimpered as he deepened the kiss. Her shields were weakening, breaking down and revealing the soft woman beneath the hard courtesan.<br><br>She broke the kiss, looking up at him as she licked her kiss swollen lips "I give thee mine permission to enter."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>21-03-2009, 21:40:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Del beamed at her, his eyes alive with joy at her words and he released her from his grasp and stepped backwards gracefully.&nbsp; &nbsp;He straightened up and then sketched an elegant courtly bow before her.<br><br>"As m'lady Seren desires, so shall it be," he said, his eyes lowered before he straightened once more.&nbsp; &nbsp;As he did so, he saw that the act of stepping back with the resulting cessation of pressure between their bodies had allowed gravity to pull her dress down where his fingers had undone its fastenings.&nbsp; &nbsp;As it pooled around her feet, he smiled and stepped back to her, tracing the outline of her jaw with a fingertip.&nbsp; &nbsp;In her small garments, she was even more dazzling than she had been that first time he had seen her.&nbsp; &nbsp;He stepped into the bedchamber, his smile as warm as the summer sun and he softly sang, beckoning to her.<br><br>"A sweet disorder in the dress&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>Kindles in clothes a wantonness:&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>A lawn about the shoulders thrown&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>Into a fine distraction:&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>An erring lace, which here and there<br>Enthrals the crimson stomacher:&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>A cuff neglectful, and thereby&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>Ribbands to flow confusedly:&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>A winning wave, deserving note,&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>In the tempestuous petticoat:<br>A careless shoe-string, in whose tie&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>I see a wild civility:&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>Do more bewitch me than when art&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>Is too precise in every part. "<br><br>He smiled and watched her, waiting for her to join him, aware that soon, soon, the passion of their coming together would eclipse any hope of reflection.&nbsp; &nbsp;"It seems that Herrick's Delight in Disorder is perfectly pictured in you, m'lady.&nbsp; &nbsp;It is a sight that inflames me. "
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>21-03-2009, 21:48:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Seren let out a soft sound, confused when he pulled away from her, her dark eyes showing uncertainty as he bowed, thrown off and lost. He was mixing the lust of their bodies with the formality of nobles and their ilk. She was truly "Lady" Seren, for she had been born into a house of nobility. Not that anyone here knew that, no, no one knew that, no one left alive at least.<br><br>Yet her breath caught as she realized her dress had fallen, the silk and satin mix rustling faintly as it slipped to pool at her feet, leaving her in her in her golden chemise and drawers. She never wore white. She refused it, refused to sleep on white sheets. Her mind remembered the color of blood on white, her mother's blood. She blinked away the memory and looked up at him, the eyes that gazed at Del showing a vulnerability of fear and shadows of those memories.<br><br>The golden color of the silk underthings though set off her tawny skin, flattering and perfect against the pale golden cream. As he beckoned to her and sang, his voice filling her ears the memories fled and warm heat of desire and the softness of the woman beneath the courtesan flushed through her again. As his song finished and he spoke, complimenting her more she smiled softly and stepped to him, laying a soft kiss against his lips, her eyes bright as she gazed up into the blue of his. "Talia. My name is Talia..." she gave him that, something of trust outside her body, and was shocked that she did. Seren was the name she had chosen, it meant Star, because she was the Star of her life now. Talia was a soft and foolish name. Yet it was hers, the woman's, not the courtesan's.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>21-03-2009, 22:11:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Del's arms enfolded her and his lips met hers.&nbsp; &nbsp;He held her tightly against him as they broke the kiss.&nbsp; &nbsp;His breath caught in his throat as she gifted him with her true name.&nbsp; &nbsp;Truly she had opened up and he was both surprised and honoured by the trust she had shown him with that gift.<br><br>"Talia," he began, "I'm honoured you have shared your name with me. "&nbsp; He shrugged, his face a little rueful as he looked down at her.&nbsp; &nbsp;"I have no similar gift for you; Del is my name, or a shortening at least. "&nbsp; His lips curled up in a smile and his eyes twinkled.&nbsp; &nbsp;"It's short for Derek. "<br><br>He lifted a hand to smooth away the hair from her face and his eyes clouded.&nbsp; &nbsp;The very sight of her, vulnerable and uncertain, was more beguiling than anything her courtesan's artifice had conjured up.&nbsp; &nbsp;His lips closed on hers and he kissed her passionately.&nbsp; &nbsp;His tongue darted between her lips and his hands explored her body through the flimsy material of her undergarments.&nbsp; &nbsp;He broke the kiss and then, startlingly, he sank to his knees before her, looking up at her.<br><br>"If I can't gift you my name," he said, "I can, however, give you pleasure unselfishly. "&nbsp; And then, he kissed her through the fine gold of her panties.&nbsp; &nbsp;His fingers curled around her waistband and he began to tug, lowering them.&nbsp; &nbsp;As they descended, his kissed the soft skin that was revealed, finally licking the opening of her sex as it was uncovered at last.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>22-03-2009, 01:20:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She did not know why she had given him her name, perhaps it was because when their bodies made love she wanted it to be Talia for once who was the focus of tender attentions. After all the last man to see Talia had nearly killed her, kept her captive and enslaved until she had killed him. That was where Talia had vanished and Seren had appeared. The woman laughed softly as he shared his name again with her, he was trying to put her at ease, and Del was very good at that, oddly enough.<br><br>When his hand moved the stray locks of sable away from her hair she glanced up at him and shivered slightly at the look that lay there. She could not understand it, yet she was more then willing when his lips took hers in another passionate kiss. She sank into it, eyes fluttering shut as her mouth responded to his with a sweet, fiery surrender. Her body trembled as his hands moved, traveling and mapping out her figure, the silk of her undergarments heating with the flush that spread through her body for him. A gasp of surprise and confusion sounded when he broke the kiss and moved to his knees. She had never had a man willingly go to his knees before her, she had never allowed it either. She gave pleasure and would never take it, never give anyone a hold over her.<br><br>Yet here he was, Del, the handsome charming bard on his knees offering her a gift. She trembled at the first kiss laid against her panties, her body flushing with warmth and her pulse racing. Her cheeks flushed with pink, the courtesan was actually blushing. His lips brushed softly against the dark curls that crowned the apex of her legs, the curls that hid most of her sex. Apparently not from him, for his tongue lapped at her, along the slit and she gasped, her knees going weak as she reached out to brace herself on his shoulders. "Somehow..I don't think this is the best position to try this for the first time..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>22-03-2009, 01:28:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I'm not sure that would work, if I stood up, I'd get a dreadful back ache," Del said grinning mischievously at her and deliberately misinterpreting her words.&nbsp; &nbsp;She had seemed so serious, so it was almost instinctive for him to start clowning about, to try and tease a smile from her lips.<br><br>He looked up at her and wrapped his arms about her legs and then, suddenly, he stood up.&nbsp; &nbsp;The result of this was that she was lifted from her feet- for a few seconds.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was, of course, an inherently unstable position and they toppled onto the bed.&nbsp; &nbsp;Talia landed of her back, the sheets rumpling around her.&nbsp; &nbsp;Del landed with his face wedged between her thighs and his voice was rich with chuckles as he looked along her supine body to her face.<br><br>"Or was this the position you had in mind?" With those words, he teased her by twirling a spiral high up on her inner thigh with his tongue.&nbsp; &nbsp;"And are you really saying you've never done this before?"&nbsp; Before she could answer, he stabbed his tongue right into her and then lifted his head with a long sucking kiss.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>22-03-2009, 01:47:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The girl blinked, confused at first and her brow furrowed slightly with a frown as he spoke. It was clear she wasn't use to jokes in such a light hearted manner as she tilted her head, looking down at him. He could have been a jester along with a bard. Yet she understood it finally and laughed then, a soft, tentative sound.<br><br>A soft yelp sounded of surprise when he lifted her up off the ground and she trembled slightly, she hadn't expected him to do that. Then she hadn't expected anything with him, he constantly surprised her. However when they fell on the back she did laugh, and this was a rich, husky sound of amusement as her dark eyes flashed with mirth looking at him. The sight of the handsome bard between her legs, his bright eyes fixed on her sent a shiver of happy anticipation through her. Here would be an easy pleasure tonight, no need for her to work. Talia spared a moment to wonder if she could actually just enjoy what she had made her work for so long.<br><br>At his teasing words she nodded before squirming when his tongue touched her inner thigh, her breath catching. When he asked her about never doing this position before she blushed softly, after all that wasn't something she wanted to admit to but this was a revealing, personal position. And most men didn't pay money to be able to taste money, actually none ever had. She had pleasured plenty of men with her mouth, granted she made all those she took into her bed go through a medical examination. She was not about to get sick because of a customer.<br><br>All her thoughts flew out of her mind though, the minute his tongue suddenly thrust into her folds and then his lips joined in the torment that drew a soft cry of shocked pleasure from her full lips as her legs fell open for him. "Oh....."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>22-03-2009, 02:13:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Del felt her relax into his caresses and he ran his hands up the inside of her thighs.&nbsp; He lifted his head for a moment and looked all along her body at her.&nbsp; She was beginning to let go, beginning to float on the pleasure, to let it carry her, rather than try to control it.&nbsp; In a real sense, this was how Del always acted: he followed his impulses and let them carry him where they would.&nbsp; At least his did in the matter of bodily pleasure.&nbsp; And his instincts told him that, at least on this night, once the edge was off, she wpuld be willing to explore more than just the possibilities of intertwining limbs and bodies.<br><br>He arched his neck and buried his face between her thighs again and his tongue licked, teased and bored right in, seeking her most sensitive part. Simultaneously, his hands slid up her inner thighs and then over her belly.&nbsp; As his fingers reached up to the margins of her breasts, his tongue found that sensitive pearl of flesh within her and flicked it.&nbsp; His hands slid up and over, grazing her nipples and his tongue darted in to swipe at the centre of her sex once more.&nbsp; His hands squeezed slightly, kneading her breasts and he lost himself in the pleasureable task of pleasing her with his tongue.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>22-03-2009, 04:19:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She shivered as he touched her with his hands on the creamy skin inside her thighs, his eyes looking at her body as she lay before him. Seren did not know how to control this, how to handle this, to be given pleasure without giving was odd, to know that she could stop him after he had sated her body and walk away from this was beyond words. For once money had not exchanged hands for her body. First with the sale of her to that old man by her stepfather and then as a courtesan, money and sex had always been intertwined in her mind. But for tonight, just for tonight it wouldn't be.<br><br>When his dark head slipped between her legs, his tongue suddenly exploring the depths of her body she let out a soft cry and trembled, her dark eyes fluttering shut as her body drank in the sensations, the pleasure he gave her. She could feel his hands on her soft skin, moving up her body, but her whole being was focused around his tongue as it suddenly found the nub in which all sensation had narrowed down to for a moment, it was the center of her body as his tongue flicked it and she whimpered highly, her body jerking in response. Her breath caught in her throat as his hands touched her breasts, teasing against her hardened nipples for a moment before his tongue moved to do another new tormenting action, moving with a surety that even she did not think she could match in giving pleasure. Moans and whimpers fell like a symphony from her lips and she arched up into his hands upon her full breasts, pressing her mons into his mouth more and convulsing on the bed beneath him as he urged the fires of her body higher and higher.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>22-03-2009, 04:36:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Del busied himself between her thighs, his tongue darting into her, flicking her most sensitive part repeatedly.&nbsp; As hi did so, his right hand rubbed down her body in a zigzag while his left slid down her side.&nbsp; He marvelled in the soft silky smoothness of her skin and lifted his head for a moment to look at her.&nbsp; Lying on the bed like this, in the extremity of her passion, she was stripped of all artifice, of all dissembling and was revealed for who she really was.&nbsp; And the sight of her thus was truly beautiful.<br><br>Looking at her, Del stuck the first two fingers of his hand into his mouth and sucked on them for a moment before slowly insinuating them into her warm moistness.&nbsp; He gently pushed them deeper before lowering his face to kiss her once more.&nbsp; Then, as he started to thrust his fingers in and out, he resumed the teasing of that sensitive pearl of flesh with his tongue.&nbsp; Soon, she would need to be triggered into her climax and Del thought of just the trigger to do it.<br><br>He kept his tongue out, resting on that sensitive nub of flesh, and pursed his lips before blowing a long loud raspberry into her.&nbsp; At the same time the two fingers made beckoning motions within her, the tips of his fingers caressing her inner walls while his tongue vibrated against her.&nbsp; He offered her pleasure with no strings attached and was leading her to the ecstasy in which all self realisation begins.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>22-03-2009, 05:34:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His tongue had the devil's own skill it seemed, seeking and finding her nub of pleasure and making her body tremble and jerk, moans falling from her lips. How in the world could this feel so good? It ...made no sense. His hand was moving over her body, touching her, driving her insane with the fires of passion that consumed her body and she wondered for a moment if this was how she made others feel. <br><br>If it was no wonder she had made so much money.<br><br>However money, work and power were not on her mind right now. No, only pleasure, only Del. When two of his fingers slipped into her damp core she gasped and quivered like a bow drawn taunt, her body clenching down tightly in response. Her hips lifted helplessly into his fingers thrusting, moans and whimpers sounded like a symphony of delight, of need as he pleasured her. When Del hooked his fingers inside her and his tongue teased her pearl she screamed, just screamed of pleasure and her body jerked before convulsing as her pleasure overwhelmed her until all she could do was wither beneath him, lost.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>22-03-2009, 14:22:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As he felt her surrender to her climax, Del lifted his face from between Talia's thighs.&nbsp; From what she had said, he supposed that this was, perhaps, the first time she had enjoyed the pleasure that she had offered to so many others.&nbsp; It was not right, Del thought, for the act of love to be so one sided, that only one party should receive the full measure of pleasure from it.&nbsp; If such a situation continued it would warp the perceptions of whoever was involved, whether they gave or received the pleasure<br><br>In this case, he was determined to redress the balance, to grant the lovely courtesan the joys that she had been missing, so that she could then share in the ecstasy that came when two bodies lay together, rather than just give the pleasure.&nbsp; He slowly withdrew his fingers from her, but left his hand in place, keeping that part of her warm as he slid up her body to hold her close with his other arm.&nbsp; He gently kissed her ear and then her cheek and trailed a line of soft, butterfly kisses along her jawline.&nbsp; <br><br>This was the next part of what he hoped to achieve.&nbsp; If her ministrations to her clients had been so one sided, then there must have been a clinical, detachment as far as she had been concerned.&nbsp; Del knew that, in a very real way, that Talia must have been missing one of the most important parts of it.&nbsp; The act was one that brought to people closer together, physically and emotionally.&nbsp; Talia, Del suspected, had left her emotions out of it too much.<br><br>He gently brushed his lips over hers and stroked away a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingertips exquisitely tender in their touch.&nbsp; He wanted the warmth of his body to seep into hers as he lay beside her after the heat of their exertions.&nbsp; He wanted to let her feel the comfort of his arms and know that she was safe, he wanted her to know that there was more to come, more to experience.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>23-03-2009, 05:21:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She was quivering all over and her legs felt limp, languid in a meaning of the word she had never experienced before. She would have paid money for this she admitted, but somehow, it was sweeter that there had been no money exchanged before this encounter. her body clenched down slightly as he moved, on edge still, so easily stirring back to life as her breath caught and her dark eyes opened slowly to fix on him with a hazy, slumberous heat. When he moved up toward her and kissed her ear she flinched away for a moment, almost as if expecting a blow.<br><br>However it was just kisses and she relaxed. She let the heat and desire take over her body again, for now. Tali spared a moment to wonder if she was feeling too much, if she should reign things in a bit more and make him leave now that he had given her pleasure. But she didn't want this interlude to end just yet. No, she wanted to steal a few more moments of this and she had said that he could have her for the night.<br><br>The brush of his fingers over her face to smooth away a stray strand of hair made her breath catch for a whole new reason, the tenderness of his lips and fingers were...shocking.<br><br>Yet she didn't turn away from it, instead she slowly kissed him back and relaxed into his warm body, curiosity showing in her deep dark eyes. Uncertainty flashed in her eyes and she reached a hand for a sheet, for a robe, anything to cover herself, she didn't often actually let anyone see her nude, at least not for long. "W..what happens now?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>23-03-2009, 23:38:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Del picked up on her thought, and he pulled the sheet up to protect her modesty.&nbsp; Of course, that did nothing to lessen her attractiveness.&nbsp; Indeed, it only enhanced it, for the material clung to her curves and hinted at the delights beneath.&nbsp; And, for Del, that was important, for he knew that the most important sexual organ was the brain and the imaginings that the draped sheet produced definitely stimulated his brain.<br><br>"I'd say that what happens next is whatever you desire," Del said, letting his finger trail down her cheek to her neck.&nbsp; He smiled at her, reassuringly and released her, rolling to the side, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.&nbsp; "You can think of what we've done as the first course of a banquet if you like.&nbsp; You can either continue with the meal, if your appetite has been stimulated or you can stop eating.&nbsp; It's all up to you."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>24-03-2009, 01:34:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He had helped her with the sheet, covering her. That was odd, but what was one more oddity here? This man was not like any who she had known before, he did not seem to demand, only give. She shifted beneath the sheet, thinking, considering. Del was a lover she had right to fear to take to her bed because he roused in her things beyond just contemplation and an eagerness to play her wits against her customers and get power and money. <br><br>Her desire, that was what would guide tonight. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment as his finger touched and traveled down her cheek and neck. Tali only opened her eyes part way to look at him and then laughed as he rolled away and spoke of their bed play as a feast. "You are the first man to move away from me whilst he has me in bed."<br><br>The dark color of her gaze turned contemplative and she rolled on her side to look at him, resting her head on one propped up hand. "I said I would give you the night and as of yet you give me no reason to regret that, so I shall continue, of course if your desire is upon the same path as mine."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>24-03-2009, 20:08:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Del smiled to hear her laugh; it was full of genuine humour and not the false, mocking laughter she had employed before.&nbsp; He rolled back to her and brushed his lips over hers, stroking her gently over her shoulders.&nbsp; He looked into her eyes and raised an eyebrow, chuckling himself.&nbsp; It was obvious, he guessed that she would make a comment like that and he had best reply to it.<br><br>"Oh, I was only rolling away that I might see you better," he chuckled, his lips punctuating his words with small, feathersoft kisses across her lips and cheek.&nbsp; "And what man in his right mind would want to cut short time spent in your company."&nbsp; With those words he rolled against her, trapping the sheet between them.&nbsp; As he lay against her, his eyes looking into hers, she could feel his growing desire begin to throb against her. He leaned in again to press his lips to hers in a long, succulent kiss.&nbsp; By the time he boke it, the eyes that regarded her were cloudy with desire and he was undulating gently against her.<br><br>"What happens next, Talia," he said, making no effort to pull the sheet away. "What happens next depends on your desire.&nbsp; We could carry on talking, carry on kissing or do anything you wish.&nbsp; The only important thing is that we share the enjoyment."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>25-03-2009, 06:33:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She smiled in pleasure as he kissed her, feeling his hands on her flesh. He was gentle but not worshiping. Some men she had taken to bed, often virgins who's father's had paid well for her, were so in awe of her body she had felt detached from it. But Del touched her like a man touched his lover, not his whore, she knew well the deference by now. <br><br>"Flatterer" she murmured to him at his chuckled words, enjoying the soft touch of his lips against her cheeks and nose. It was a teasing sort of sweetness, the fires banked for the moment in her body but still there, still glowing faintly with the pleasure he had gifted her with. When he rolled against her body she could feel him, Talia could feel the shape, the throbbing of his erection, he wanted her. Lusted, desired, craved. Good, it was good to know that she could pull those reactions from a man as Talia. <br><br>She tilted her head at his words before absently worrying her lower lip as her dark gaze stay fixed on him. "I do like to talk, but I want to sate your desire as you have mine, but..I also want more pleasure...is that okay?" A hint of uncertainty, of vulnerability flashed through into her eyes here. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>27-03-2009, 01:00:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Del rolled over her and pressed his lips to hers in a succulent kiss.&nbsp; He stroked her face, his eyes gazing into hers as he lifted his lips from her.&nbsp; She was, in a very real sense, even more beautiful now that she was uncertain.&nbsp; He smiled at her words and&nbsp; let his fingers drop, to trail a sensual spiral around one of her nipples through the fine material of the sheet.<br><br>"Then let us join together in joy," he said, blanketing her body with hers, rubbing himself against her, through the sheet.&nbsp; His lips found hers once more and he whispered to her between kisses.&nbsp; "We have the whole night together, and plenty of time to explore all of our needs, desires and the details of our bodies."<br><br>And then he kissed her once more, letting his tongue slide between her lips.&nbsp; He pulled the sheet from between them and slid his hands down her sides, letting his warm skin slide over hers.&nbsp; The edge was off and now they could truly join in the act of love.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>28-03-2009, 01:00:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dear gods this man knew how to kiss. His mouth was very talented indeed and she might keep him as her bedmate for the skill of that alone whether or not he managed to please her with more. Tali let herself sink into his kiss, the feel of his fingers caressing the flesh of her cheek, her eyes fixed on his, the drowning depths holding so many emotions it would be impossible to pick out just one, so intermingled were they.<br><br>In joy, was it truly possible for a man and woman to do that? In just joy and nothing else? The feel of him rubbing his body against hers through the sheet made her gasp softly, her body had never responded this eagerly before and yet there it was, stirring to life, her nipples hardening to aching points of desire. She could feel the wet slickness of her body's desire between her legs as well, dampening the insides of her inner thighs. As Del's lips took hers again in one of those mind numbing kisses she nodded to his words, and for the first time in her life she looked forward to a night of bed play. <br><br>Exploring, loving, desires, both, not just one person. This was giving and taking. <br><br>His tongue took her mouth and her's answered his, demanding as much as it surrendered, all with a hot passion intense from so many years of buildup. The sheet slid down between them, against her skin like a teasing sensation, one that made her gasp into his mouth before she let out a low moan of approval when his skin touched hers. It felt so right, so amazing. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>28-03-2009, 19:55:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Del slipped his lips from hers, sliding his mouth across her cheek in a long trail of kisses.&nbsp; He breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the perfume of her skin and slipped himself between her thighs.<br><br>She was truly as lovely a woman as he had ever met, let alone lain with.&nbsp; He could count her many virtues with ease: she was breathtakingly beautiful, her intelligence was evident and she could hardly have become the most renowned courtesan in the city without being extremely talented in the arts of the bedchamber.&nbsp; Yet, despite all of her experience and skill, she had not, before this night, enjoyed the act of love for herself.<br><br>As he lay between her thighs, he slowly slid himself up, rubbing against her.&nbsp; His movements were slow and he stroked his hands down her sides.&nbsp; His lips trailed kisses along her jawline and he whispered into her ear.<br><br>"You are beautiful enough to make me lose my head, Talia," he whispered, throbbing against the junction of her thighs.&nbsp; And then, he lifted his head and lowered it to kiss her once more.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>29-03-2009, 02:52:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His mouth move from hers, down her cheeks and she could feel when he inhaled her scent even as his hips slipped between hers. Talia knew enough by now to know the most comfortable way to position her legs like this. Her dark eyes were shadowed slightly with eagerness and anticipation, she was still hungry for that passionate bliss he had taken her to before. <br><br>When she felt his length rubbed against the core of her body, the petals of her mons and she squirmed, trying to take him into her body already, impatient now. Yet he moved so slow and steady, as if he were savoring her body and she had to confess that she enjoyed that, how her body somehow was something even when it wasn't bought. His lips traveled to her ear in soft kisses before his voice murmured to her.<br><br>It was a compliment, and one that used her true name. Her heart felt a touch of a pang, she wished that he could say something beyond her beauty, but then, no one saw more then that. Because she didn't let them. For the first time in her life as she lay in bed in an intimate embrace with a man she had doubts over whether or not she was living the right way. <br><br>And she hated that.<br><br>The courtesan could feel his erection eager between her legs, so close to entering her. And when he kissed her, lowering his head to do so she lifted her hips up at just the right angle, using years of experience and took him into her partly, just an inch or two but it was enough to make a moan sound from her to fill their kiss. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>29-03-2009, 16:27:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Del hovered there, barely inside her, throbbing hotly against the lips of her sex.&nbsp; He knew that to start thrusting wildly now would just return Talia to the state of mind in which she was Seren, the courtesan, and he definitely didn't want that.&nbsp; If that were to happen, what should be the meeting of two souls encapsulated by the coupling of two bodies would merely return to being something she got paid for, an opportunity to be proud of her skills.&nbsp; She was worth- she deserved- a whole lot more than that.<br><br>He gently kissed her lips, his fingertips exploring the contours of her face.&nbsp; He smiled against&nbsp; her lips, making a gentle "shushing" sound and whispered to her. His fingers stroked up into her hairline and then back, down her throat and still he held himself there, his hips quivering, hardly inside her at all.<br><br>"O my sweet," he whispered, barely audible, "You deserve to go slowly, to let the motions and emotions move as they will."&nbsp; His fingers slid down each side, slowly stroking around the outer margins of her breasts and he nibbled at her lips between whispers.&nbsp; "Do you accept me into your body, my pulse surrounded by your heartbeat, my essence touching yours?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>03-04-2009, 08:53:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He was tormenting her! She felt like a madden wild thing, she wanted him, so she would have him she decided. But he was withholding, something no one had ever dared to do to her since she took power in bed. And it was not making her happy, she needed the control and when she did not have it, when she was not the courtesan and the one withholding pleasure at her pleasure then it made her back to that young girl. The young girl she refused to be.<br><br>Yet as he kissed her her anger and confusion lessened and she kissed him back, unable to help herself as he soothed her and spoke, his fingers caressing even as she felt him so close to what they both wanted, yet so far. It was a true form of torture she thought softly, wondering if she was half as effective when she employed it against men.<br><br>She deserved....<br><br>What an odd thought. But she relaxed her body, her legs, and decided not to force this, she had given him the night, it was only fair that she follow his rules in bed as long as they did not violate her own. And deep down...she was curious. His words were poetic and sensual, arousing and tender as they filled her ears and she nodded, whispering his reply back to him in the semi darkness of her bedroom. "Yes..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>04-04-2009, 19:32:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				With Talia's whispered assent he leaned in and caught her lips in a deep succulent kiss.&nbsp; His tongue slowly circled her lips before it slowly, sensuously pressed past them and into her mouth.&nbsp; Even as his tongue found and twined around hers, he eased his hips forwards.&nbsp; He sighed soflty into their kiss at the most friction as he slid deeper and deeper into her, until his throbbing was entirely contained by her and their pelvises rubbed together.&nbsp; At the very end of this slow sensual thrust, he rolled his hips slightly, altering the angle and somehow seemed to throb even deeper within her.<br><br>He rested there a second, breaking the kiss to teasingly nibble with his lips on her cheek, before reversing the movement, equally slowly, pulsing gently within her as he pulled his hips back.&nbsp; Then, just as it seemed inevitable that he would pull out completely, he repeated the whole thing: slow thrust in and gentle pull back, whispering soft words of encouragement and praise as he did so, about how well their bodies fit together about how he meant to slowly build her pleasure.<br><br>And that is what Del did, with each slow stroke, his hands caressed and explored, stroking in time with the easy relaxed rhythm of his hips.&nbsp; Yet, the rhythm was not constant, there was a subtle, gradual increase in the tempo of his thrusts that matched the increasingly breathless fervour of his kisses to her lips and cheeks.&nbsp; Increasingly now, his thrusts pushed harder and deeper, and his caresses became more insistent, as he felt himself succumb to the all but irresistible charms of her glorious body.<br><br>Faster and faster he thrust, each time harder and deeper than the last until, eventually, they punctuated the pumping of their hips with a gentle slap as his skin met hers.&nbsp; His lips sought hers for a kiss that seemed to blaze with passion, as if he sought, in their coupling, to brand his touch on her skin.&nbsp; Moaning into her mouth in ecstasy, he opened himself up to her, letting her feel everything that was within, praying that, in the extremity of their passion, she, in return, would open up to him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>05-04-2009, 22:03:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She moaned into his kiss, he seemed to reach to her very soul and shatter her with that clever, tormenting mouth of his and she clung to him, trembling and parting. Her lips accepted, surrendered and demanded from him in turn, their tongues dueling in a dance older then time itself as his hips moved and he filled her. She gasped, trembled and whimpered, this was like nothing else her vast experience had given her. Perhaps it was that her mind and emotions were involved now and it was more then just her body responding while her mind was calculating and elsewhere.<br><br>He was moving so slowly, her nails raked down his back to try and issue a command for more, if nothing else she was a demanding bed partner. Yet, yet deep inside she was savoring, cherishing every slow, teasing thrust, every teasing kiss and nibble. This was not fucking, not sex, not paid for. This was making love and she trembled in awe of it. And fear. Oh she feared this even as she begged with her body for more as he took her, touching her, praising and encouraging her. Her eyes shut, her hands fell from his back to fist in the blankets as her body took hers. <br><br>As he moved faster and harder and deeper she moaned and cried out for him, her hips lifting into his just as eagerly and wantonly as his moved into hers. His hands felt hot on her skin, too hot to be mortal, almost as if he were searing himself into her with his lips, his manhood, his touch. This would truly be a night she could never forget, burned into her memory. Talia's lips were soft and pliant, and at his moan she whimpered, trembling and her body and mind and heart joined and blossomed beneath him, opening like a bud on the first day of spring as her pleasure and delight climbed higher and tighter, turning her into a thing gone near mad with pleasure beneath him as she begged wordlessly for her release.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>05-04-2009, 23:04:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sensing her need through a communion with her that communicated more effectively than words ever could, Del whispered hotly into Talia's ear yet more words of encouragement and of something she might never have heard before.<br><br>"Come, my love, take your pleasure and trigger my own," he whispered, his thrusting becoming even more fevered.&nbsp; As his hips slammed into hers with the force of their rhythmic pumping, Del held on to the last shreds of his self control, determined to let her climax first before joining her in the throes of abandoned passion.&nbsp; His voice left his lips now in short animal grunts and gasps of near ecstasy.<br><br>And in that moment, time slowed for for Del, as he tottered on the brink of orgasm, and he felt his senses swell and expand as the raw power of the universe, its quintessence, flowed into him while he existed in the eye of the storm of their passion.&nbsp; And as it did so, some of it flared through him into Talia, coruscating through her senses like ecstatic wildfire.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>09-04-2009, 20:42:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He...wanted her to take her pleasure first? It felt like everything she had known of men up to this point was suddenly a lie. And perhaps it was, after all the men who had hurt the young Talia and then the men who sought out the infamous Seren had not cared about her pleasure. His hips were driving her insane with their drive and she withered beneath him, unable to hold herself back not once he had spoken those words and her shock was over ridden by need, by pleasure.<br><br>Her toes curled, her body tightened, she stiffened for a moment, feeling him take her and then power washed over as did pleasure and she screamed, oh heavens did she scream, her head tossed back as her climax ripped through her with a power she had never known. <br><br>Tali's nails raked down his back, her core clenched him tight, her legs wrapped around his hips and held him tight to her even as the convulsions of bliss held her in their rapture. She had truly let go.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>10-04-2009, 14:06:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Del arched his back as Talia's nails raked down his spine and he thrust into her even deeper.&nbsp; His eyes closed in bliss and an ecstatic cry escaped his lips as her climax triggered his release.&nbsp; Throbbing and pulsing, he exploded into her, flooding her with his molten passion, holding her tightly as she bucked beneath him.<br><br>When the conflagration had passed, cooling to a warm comforting residual glow of spent pleasure, he rolled over, bringing her on top of him and kissed her lips sweetly.&nbsp; His arms closed around her to encircle her protectively and he looked up into her lovely face with indescribable tenderness.&nbsp; His smile lost none of it's roguish charm despite the warmth of affection that so obviously suffused it and he slid his hand up to pull her head down to rest on his shoulder while the basked in the post-coital afterglow.<br><br>And so it continued through the night, a sudden stirring and subsequent incendiary coupling which stretched both of their skills, interspersed with increasingly long languid periods of tender repose.&nbsp; And eventually, as the stars were fading into the increasingly pale sky, the repose faded, itself, into exhausted sleep.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>11-04-2009, 08:12:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She had never spent a night like that before. So much simple bliss, all in the caresses of a man, Talia would have never thought to spend a night like that. And between the bouts of love making so intense it brought tears to her eyes on a few occasions they slept together, tangled in each other's bodies. It was like nothing she had ever known or dreamed of. Was this how other people were with their bedmates?<br><br>The courtesan had woken first, before the bard, sprawled on her chocolate sheets, her dark hair free in wild waves around them as the sunlight peeked through her windows and warmed them. She move slightly, having untangled herself from him and then slipping from the bed. The young woman approached one of the mirrors in the room, gazing at her nude body with no modesty or shame coloring her gaze. She looked like a well loved woman. <br><br>Talia turned her gaze back to the bed, at the handsome man who lay spent upon it. <br><br>It had been the type of night that happened once in a lifetime for some people. And it was going to be the only time she ever allowed it to happen in her life; her hands reached for her silk bed robe, slipping into it and with it Seren re emeraged and asserted herself. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>12-04-2009, 16:57:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Del stretched languidly on the bed and cracked open a lazy eyelid to watch Talia put on her robe.&nbsp; After the long night of lovemaking, he felt relaxed and refreshed.&nbsp; All of his senses were active feeding him a wealth of minute and extraordinarily vivid detail.&nbsp; His nose could pick out not just the scent of Talia's hair lingering on the pillow beside him but also the sensual musk of their lovemaking on the sheets he lay upon.&nbsp; His ears detected the soft song of a bird greeting the dawn outside the window as well as the soft smooth caress of Talia's robe as she pulled it around her shoulders.&nbsp; Each of the fine threads of the sheets were clear to his revitalised sense of touch and he smiled revelling in the glories of his sensorium.<br><br>The smile became fixed on his lips as he became aware of a subtle shift in the woman's posture.&nbsp; Her shoulders had shifted, curling a little, creating an all but imperceptible barrier around her.&nbsp; Her spine straightened fractionally, adding to her height and her back arched with the unconscious artistry of long practice to display the inviting curves of her breasts to their best advantage within her simple robe.&nbsp; She had replaced&nbsp; the sweet uncomplicated openness that had marked her as Talia with the artifice of the renowned courtesan.<br><br>Del did not meet her gaze, it would be too painful to see the cold calculation that he was sure to be displayed in her eyes.&nbsp; His time was up, it seemed.&nbsp; Dawn had broken and the fragile enchantment, if such it was, that had allowed the real woman beneath the courtesan's exterior to emerge had broken with it.&nbsp; He was unsure how she would react, for he was, in her eyes, a possibe threat.<br><br>"Good morning, Seren," he said simply, sitting up and smiling.&nbsp; "I see that the night is over and, no doubt, you wish me to depart before any of your staff are alerted to my presence?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>12-04-2009, 18:19:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She wasn't expecting him to wake so early, especially after he had worn them both out so throughly. Her dark eyes went to him and she found her breath catching, just a bit; Del was very very handsome, there was no doubt about that. Her eyes shadowed for a moment, with memory of their night, with longing to be able to be Talia. But being that silly girl had only ever caused pain, it was better to remain the courtesan, to be the one in power of her life. <br><br>But...she didn't want to give this up yet. <br><br>"I answer to no one and neither does my bed partner. Stay or go as you wish, but I would like you to be back here tonight." There was a touch of both women in that comment, after all Seren was proud and confident, but it was the girl beneath it all that wanted this man to stay with her at least one more night. Just one more escape from the life she had built for herself. It had never occurred to her that bedplay could be anything more then bought, that it could really truly be enjoyable. Sure she had climaxed before, her body was very responsive to lovers, but she had never had anything like the night before. And she craved, ached for more. <br><br>"You can join me for breakfast if you wish, but I do have business to attend to today that I have to do by myself." <br><br>A soft smile touched her lips at this and she turned away, facing the vanity as she picked up a brush to pull it through her long tousled mane. Today was the day she was to go visit that house out in the country, three hours journey there and back, and to be able to see the children was always something that made her happy.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>13-04-2009, 18:37:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Breakfast, eh?" Del chuckled "I should be delighted to dine with you and I trust that there will be plenty of fruit juice available, I could certainly do with the fluids."&nbsp; He winked at her and, unselfconsciously stood, letting the sheet fall way from his body.&nbsp; He walked to the window and stretched, looking out at the dawn.&nbsp; His hands went to his chest palms together and then rose up until they were above his head, which he framed with the curve of his hands.&nbsp; Slowly he lifted his right foot until it's sole pressed against his left knee.&nbsp; After a handful of heartbeats, he straightened his arms, separating his hands and brought them down in twin arcs to his sides as he lowered his foot.&nbsp; And then he repeated the whole thing, but this time lifting the left foot.<br><br>When he had finished, he turned to face her and smiled, admiring the way the soft curves of her body filled the silky material of her robe.&nbsp; His eyes twinkled as he watched her comb her hair and he went to pull on his breeches.<br><br>"Tonight it shall be, Seren," he said, his voice warm with the dawn's light.&nbsp; "Just after dusk?&nbsp; I too have business today and I should have completed it by them."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>14-04-2009, 19:48:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She rolled her eyes at his joke. Men and their jokes, yet part of her enjoyed that silliness, after all, she didn't often let men stay this long. They left once they were done, she never spent the full night with anyone, because she had never allowed herself to sleep with someone else in the bed. Memories flashed in her eyes, of that white bed during the spring thunderstorm, of blood and death and the destruction of her world. She shoved it away as he stretched, focusing on brushing her hair even as her hand trembled. <br><br>Seren reached for the little silver bell that sat on her vanity, ringing it and within moments servants appeared, carrying breakfast trays, with enough for two. She had rung out four notes, when she was by herself it was normally only three. <br><br>The breakfast was set up on a small table that sat before large balcony doors and one of the maids opened them, letting in the sunlight and early morning air. She drew her robe closer around her and sat, picking up a scone as a maid poured her tea. The courtesan had not missed how he had addressed her by her assumed name and wondered if he was going to play with the game she had made her life to be. Orange juice was poured as well and she took that over tea for now, sipping the bright liquid as she gazed at the handsome male she had slept with.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>17-04-2009, 13:32:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As he dressed, Del wondered at the situation.&nbsp; There was still the conflict there, still the cold calculation of Seren was dominant over the softer, perhaps more vulnerable Talia within.&nbsp; While Talia needed a little of Seren's hard headedness, Seren needed Talia's openness and ability to take joy in her life much more.<br><br>He walked out to join her on the balcony and took a glass of juice, sitting down opposite her.&nbsp; He looked at her closely and lifted an eyebrow at the expression on her face.&nbsp; There was a degree of calculation in her eyes, as if she were, perhaps, judging whether he were about to presume on their relationship or in some other way become a liability.&nbsp; He smiled and took a bite of a scone.&nbsp; Once he had swallowed, he tilted his head and spoke.<br><br>"I sense that you approve of my keeping Talia for our nights?"&nbsp; Del asked.&nbsp; "In truth, I see almost two people: the irresistible courtesan who sparks desire in every man (and probably many of the women) that she meets and the softer, vulnerable woman whom I care for deeply."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>17-04-2009, 20:43:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				One hand was idly toying with the long strands of her hair, twirling and twining, her dark eyes focused out on her garden. Part of her was still tired, worn out from the incredible night of loving they had spent together, the other part was eager, hungry for more. She had always done her job before, but never felt this hunger. The hand in her hair dropped and pressed into her stomach in a unthinking gesture, trying to tell her body to be quiet and still. <br><br>As Del sat down with her she picked up her fork, taking a bite of eggs, sighing in delight. She truly had one of the finest chefs in the city, rival to even the king's own. Yet at his words she stiffened and dealt him a glare. <em>Keeping?</em>, her lips compressed and her eyes glittered dangerously as Seren contemplated how to best hand him the set down he had earned. No one kept any part of her!<br><br>But..to know that he cared for her, for Talia, it made her draw up short, shock in her rich eyes before she turned her head away and shrugged her shoulders. "We shall see."<br><br>A maid appeared then, coming to her side with a silver tray with letters and calling cards. Seren shook her head as she looked through the calling cards, discarding a handful of roughly fifteen back into the tray with no second looks. Minor lords and merchants were of no interest to her, besides, at least, for one more night her bed would be occupied. She wondered if Del knew he was the first man to have bedded her without paying for it first. There were letters of course, bankers and such, merchants with her orders, she sorted through such easily and with the ease of long practice. <br><br>Then she drew up short, lifting a envelope with the heavy wax seal of the King. The rest of the mail dropped to her lap as she slowly reached for a knife to break the seal, she had not expected this. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>19-04-2009, 19:27:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Breakfast, for Del, passed, of course, without any mail.&nbsp; Seeing Seren's letters reminded him that he had to get back to his digs: there was a possibly lucrative concert in the offing and details should be arriving that day.&nbsp; So he made small talk while enjoying all the meal had to offer and, after agreeing to return two hours after dusk, he left the courtesan to be distracted by the young king's letter.<br><br><br>The letter itself was, despite the liberal application of gold leaf, rather simple in its style; the king, after all, had no need to impress:<br><br><em>My Lady Seren Hamur,<br><br>I shall, as you are a woman of business whose time is precious, come to the point swiftly without the usual preamble discussing our mutual good health, the weather or whatnot.&nbsp; It is a truth, almost universally acknowledged, that a young man, in possession of a sizeable fortune and a royal title to boot must be in want of a wife.&nbsp; However, I should not want to acknowledge that truth just yet.&nbsp; Royal marriages are, of course, matters of great import and are frequently used to cement diplomatic alliances.&nbsp; My ministers all understand this of course, indeed, it was they who drilled that very notion into me.<br><br>That which having been said, it has become apparent that such an understanding has not been gained by many of my barons and their eligible (and often horse-faced) daughters.&nbsp; I am besieged by them, Lady Seren, and must take unorthodox means as to protect myself from&nbsp; their amorous advances.<br><br>Thus I write to you, for you are, of course, the paramount beauty in the kingdom.&nbsp; Were you to be seen escorting me to various royal functions, it would dash all hopes of the equine-featured noble ladies, for which of them could imagine she could compete with you?&nbsp; I would therefore be free to pursue whichever loveless marriage diplomacy would require.<br><br>The position of my official escort would, of course, receive a more than generous stipend, as well, of course, as my eternal gratitude.&nbsp; Well, as eternal as any of my advisers will allow it to be.&nbsp; I should therefore be grateful if you would have lunch with me at the palace to discuss my proposal.&nbsp; If nothing else, the look on the royal chamberlain's face will be beyond price.&nbsp; Provided, of course he doesn't get wind of this letter and prevent it from reaching you.<br><br>Sincerely,<br><br>Rupert<br><br>Rex, Basileus et alia<br></em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>19-04-2009, 21:14:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				An invitation from the King himself. <br><br>She had made a joke about seducing the King himself to her friend the other day but she had never thought to carry it out. And never in her wildest dreams had she thought that he would seek her out. Many men did, but many men were not King's, he could have any women he wished to be his escort, yet he chose her. It made sense though, she had the most infamous reputation, she would not expect anything more then money. She laid the letter aside and finished her breakfast, mulling over the idea. <br><br>Talia wanted to go see her siblings, Seren knew this was too good to pass up. So with a sigh she rang her bell again, five notes, summoning her private handmaiden, a woman she trusted and who had been with her since she was little. "I have a message for you to carry." she said, writing out a neat, clean note to the children, explaining that business had come up and she would see them first thing tomorrow. <br><br>The courtesan handed it to Marhe and then summoned her other servants to clean away breakfast as she returned to her rooms, going for her private bathing room instead of the study of the night before. She had sent a reply back with a footman to the King, she would attend to lunch with him. It rather felt like flaunting herself almost, going to a place she knew she would not be well received by most. But would she take the King on as a lover? Most likely, at the moment, no. Se wanted more time with Del, but from his letter he only wished an escort, that would be easy enough she supposed. <br><br>Hours passed and she was ready, dressed in a gown meant to drive men crazy. The bodice was tight and pushed up her considerable bosom, skirts flaring as they should but clings slightly more then was fashion to her long legs. The color was a deep rich dark gold, setting off her skin and hair perfectly, edged with blood red lace in a few places. Gold and rubies graced her neck and ears, her hair was pulled half up and down, left to make a man think of bed and with a smile of satisfaction that she had never looked better she left her palace and let her carriage take her to the King's. What an interesting afternoon this would be.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>19-04-2009, 21:50:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				To say that Seren received a frosty reception from the palace would be both an understatement and an overstatement.&nbsp; The guards were, understandable, very appreciative of her appearance and several of them fumbled with their weapons as she swept past them along the corridor.&nbsp; The Lord Chamberlain was, however, appreciative in the slightest; he was appalled.&nbsp; Her dress did indeed drive him wild, though it was doubtful that its maker had had apoplexy as his aim when the dress was designed.<br><br>"What is the meaning of this?" The chamberlain's voice was rich with outrage as he beheld the courtesan's entrance to the king's audience chamber.<br><br>"Don't you mean what is the meaning of this, Sire?"&nbsp; King Rupert commented mildly from his throne.&nbsp; He was a young man, barely over twenty, and his eyes twinkled as he regarded the outraged chamberlain suddenly deflating.&nbsp; His green eyes twinkled with wry amusement and he leaned forward, brushing a lock of is black hair away from his face.&nbsp; "Come now, old friend, you forget, I'm not your pupil any more.&nbsp; If there was one lesson you taught me, it was to be my own man.&nbsp; Well, if I am to be, you must expect me to do things you disapprove of, like entertaining this ravishing lady to lunch."<br><br>He stood and descended from the throne and smiled.&nbsp; His indigo doublet set off the chain of state that he wore excellently and it was plain that this slim young man was taller than the average for the kingdom.<br><br>"My Lady Seren," he said, "Please forgive my chamberlain.&nbsp; He is old and the unexpected unnerves him.&nbsp; Please, will you accompany me to my private dining room?"&nbsp; And with those words, he did her the unexpected honour of offering her his arm, while winking at the chamberlain."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>24-04-2009, 08:05:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She had expected it, the reaction from the Chamberlain, but it didn't meant that it didn't hurt a touch. Her eyes glittered dangerously, he wanted to reject her huh? If her life had gone how it was suppose to have she would have been presented to the Crown on her sixteenth birthday, as a noble. But no, at sixteen she had been on the streets of the city, learning the arts of the courtesan. Talia and her siblings had nearly starved, but Seren was looked down upon for what she had done to survive. Men were not kind to those who did not live in their neat orderly lives, though they were more then happy to make use of her charms. <br><br>Yet the King spoke, not very slowly, but mildly, he was clearly in possession of himself. Seren inclined her head to him before snapping open her fan and covering her face as she mentally assessed the man before him. He was handsome, in the manner that she did not normally see, he was a good man she sensed, one of the few who truly believed in old world courtesy and chivalry. Too bad that in the real world those were dead, but he was a good King, she knew that thanks to her ties in the underworld.<br><br>He was also tall, which was her one true weakness in men, she was tall and full figured and while she had slept with many bodytypes, his was the one she found herself the most at ease with. She felt more feminine for his height. As he spoke to her her dark eyes watched him with hints of amusement, speculation and wariness. Yet, offering her his arm was the deciding factor for her and she accepted it, softly laying her slender hand upon it to let him guide her to his dining room, her fan still held as a guard to her face. "You flatter very well my King." she said in a huskily amused tone.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>03-05-2009, 18:40:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Flatter you, m'lady?"&nbsp; Rupert's lips twitched in amusement as he guided them to a small room, set with a table and two chairs.&nbsp; On one side, tall french-windows opened onto a balcony with a view of the palace gardens.&nbsp; On the other, a curtained arch led... elsewhere.<br><br>"Flattery is an insincere compliment designed to gain the good approval of another," he said, sitting down and pouring them both a glass of deep red wine.&nbsp; "Believe me, Seren, when I tell you that I have heard far more flattery than you ever have."&nbsp; He lifted his glass to his lips and sipped, regarding her over the rim.&nbsp; "At least when people tell you they are beautiful, they are telling you the truth.&nbsp; When they tell me I am wise, they are merely positioning themselves to better take advantage of my inexperience."<br><br>He lifted the silver dome from the tray of dishes in the table's centre and helped himself to two pork chops, some carrots, broccoli and some buttered new potatoes.&nbsp; As he motioned Seren to do the same, he continued.<br><br>"And therein lies the rub," he said.&nbsp; "Because of my youth, everyone expects me to fall in with whatever mad scheme they come up with; they think that the first pair of pretty eyes that flutter their lashes at me will win my heart, they think to use me."&nbsp; He shook his head, his voice vehement.&nbsp; "I will not be used by anyone, Seren, not anyone.&nbsp; You are a power in this city- don't deny it; I have my informants, even if the Chamberlain thinks I'm a soppy boy- and you are beholden to none.&nbsp; I need your strength, I need to know how you achieved that and, having you as a semi-official consort will give you the leisure to instruct me.&nbsp; It will also shut the door on every noble with a horse=faced daughter who hopes she will catch my eye."<br><br>The young king lifted his glass, smiling at her.&nbsp; "So tell me, m'lady Hamur, are you not the least bit intrigued?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>03-05-2009, 21:47:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her eyes took in the details of the room she was led into, the small intimacy of the place, the open doors that gave a view to the splendid gardens, her eyes darkening with amusement at the curtain. She would bet money it led to his bedroom. A room she was not sure she wanted to visit as of yet, he may be amusing but that did not mean anything really. She watched him pour wine and lowered her fan, flicking it with her wrist, wondering if he knew how to read the language of fans. Not many men took the time to learn, but it was a wonderful use of code, if she decided to take his proposition she would teach him, so she could speak to him without others aware.<br><br>She smirked slightly, well others outside of her profession, but courtesans were not in the habit of being openly displayed at the king's court. Her free hand slipped off to take the glass and she took a sip of the rich wine before smiling. "Ah but how many think to look beneath the beauty? Many men, and quiet a few women are foolish when it comes to rutting." <br><br>Seren was purposefully blunt as she moved over to the tray and took a much smaller portion of food before she sat down elegantly, watching in curiously as he spoke. This king was much smarter then he appeared then rumor said, he made her curious. And he saw her as a power, not many men acknowledged that, and the King? She would have never thought the ruler of the country would openly admit that he saw power in her, strength and that he needed it. However, if she was to help him politically and teach him her ways, she would rather not have him in bed with her. Having someone else understanding how her mind worked and plotted sleeping wit her was not something she wanted. <br><br>She took another delicate sip of her wine before twisting her wrist in an elegant manner with the fan, shutting it neatly and placing it in her lap. It was a signal for accord, or agreement. "Of course, however I have worked hard to get where I am, I will not tell you everything, I will not share information I don't think needs to be disclosed." <br><br>Her dark eyes glanced up at him and she smiled slowly, seductively. "You may ask for things, but the contract drawn up of accord between us will be clear and some boundaries will not be crossed. You are not to interfere with my business outside of you, though I promise to be discreet about anything I do. And I will not sleep with you."<br><br>He was handsome, she could enjoy having Rupert in her bed perhaps, but she did not want to tangle herself up with a man that seemed to be the type of man she would have wanted before her life of sin. Nor would she want to have anyone who knew how she played her game. And....she didn't quiet want to give up what she had with Del just yet. "I assume since&nbsp; you invited me here you have some sort of plan for how this all will work?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>03-05-2009, 22:15:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rupert laughed, his eyes dancing merrily.&nbsp; Rutting rotting brains, eh?&nbsp; She had the truth of it there all right, he thought.&nbsp; It was a shame, he decided, that she would not deign to sleep with him, and then again it was encouraging also.&nbsp; Were she about to make the same mistake as all of the others and underestimate him, then she would already be in his lap, he did not doubt.&nbsp; She saw him clearly, he thought, with all the discernment her reputation suggested.&nbsp; She would prove a good foil and and admirable advisor, he was sure.<br><br>"I would not be so indelicate, Seren," he said, " to suggest that those whom you drive to stupidity in your bed do much sleeping there."&nbsp; He cut himself some of the pork and, ate it.&nbsp; "And in any case, aside from the inevitable complications that would come up, I would prefer not to take any woman to bed apart from the one I shall eventually marry."<br><br>A piece of potato followed the pork and Rupert grinned at Seren, mischievously.&nbsp; "Of course the world need not know that.&nbsp; Indeed, it would be for the best if we gave the opposite impression.&nbsp; Otherwise all those predatory daughters would still be a chasing me and it'd look as if you had lost your touch.&nbsp; So I suggest that we appear to them all as if we're banging like the privy door when the plague's in town."&nbsp; He watched her closely to see what reaction his colourful metaphor gained.&nbsp; It was something, he'd overheard one of his courtiers, Slackbladder, saying when the man was deep in his cups.<br><br>"As for your other stipulations, then of course, they go without saying," he said&nbsp; "I want to learn your skills; the political ones, I mean.&nbsp; I do not wish to compromise you by seeking information about other people.&nbsp; Just as I trust you'll not try to learn things from me that will enhance your position either."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>03-05-2009, 23:00:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was nice to see that she could amuse him so easily, he should not be too much of a bother as a companion then. She delicately ate the food before her, watching him with her dark slumberous eyes, Seren didn't want to get tied up with a fool, but he didn't seem like one. She was surprised he wasn't trying to touch her, to kiss her and seduce her, most men who approached her and roused any sign of interest seemed to take that as a sign to be all over her. Her lips quirked slightly to herself, he probably expected her to be all over him.<br><br>Two powerful figures, together, opposites in so many ways. Oh, they would certainly set the country's tongues awagging. It could be fun, to see what trouble and gossip they could rouse and she decided then that she would agree to his idea. "Certainly, though I am known for being seductive I am not a harlot, I will act like a lady most of the time, just...free of some of those inhibitions." She laughed huskily there. She would never be prim and proper, but she would have fun livening up the court and she laughed freely, a deep rich chuckle at his course language.<br><br>"Oh, its reassuring to know our wise young King is no stick in the mud. There may be hope yet." Seren reached for her fan, flicking it open and giving a slight wave to the left before fluttering it shut. "I will teach you first how to talk to me without talking, my fan is my instrument, I'll guide you with that if I think you need help."<br><br>She toyed with the pretty red object, her eyes glinting with amusement. "You think I would need to enhance my position through you?" There was an edge to her voice, almost anger, but not quiet, for all that she was 'fallen' there was a fierce sense of pride within her breast. Her amber eyes showed it before she glanced downward and pushed away from the table, full mostly and swayed her way over to the balcony to look out at the gardens, her body language like that of a coiled and waiting to pounce feline.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>09-05-2009, 23:34:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rupert frowned, a trifle confused: talk with a fan? What the hell did she mean?&nbsp; And if she meant some kind of fan semaphore, how could he answer?&nbsp; He'd be jiggered if he were going to make him look emasculated, like the catamites of the Eastern courts, by using a fan!<br><br>"I might be able to interpret what you say to me, m'lady, but I should need some alternative to answer, surely?"&nbsp; Rupert was quite pleased with that riposte and now he turned his attention to the matter of her position.&nbsp; Her question was a loaded one, of that there was no doubt, but what the trap in her words was, he could not discern.<br><br>"Of course I do," he replied to her, smoothly, his eyes twinkling.&nbsp; "Does not every man- and woman- seek a more secure position?&nbsp; I am the king, after all, and yet, I am constantly seeking to improve my position.&nbsp; Uneasy rests the head that wears the crown and all that. And you wear a crown of a different sort, do you not?&nbsp; I'd say we are not that dissimilar in our drives."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>10-05-2009, 10:48:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Seren laughed then, he had reacted to the fan in a very amusing way and she turned to look at him, amusement flashing in her own eyes. "Of course I don't mean you to use a fan, I will speak you with it, I won't need you to speak to me, at least not outside of body language. Its my job to study human bodies." she smirked then, completely at ease and confident with herself.<br><br>She idly toyed with the fan again, watching him and nodding. She had been perhaps a bit too rash with how she reacted, but it was annoying to know a man was her equal or could help her. She conquered men, they didn't conquer and use her. The courtesan in her was uneasy, the woman, amused. <br><br>"True. And yes, though mine is much more tarnished then yours..." she smiled then, alluding to all the fun to be had in the tarnishing. "so...what say you that we seal this deal with a kiss then? For we will have to kiss in front of others, and I would hate to have to train you in that." there was a challenge, a delicious sort of torment promised in her words.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>11-05-2009, 00:37:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rupert stood and stepped around the table to take Seren's hand, drawing her to her feet.&nbsp; He looked down into her eyes, the pupils of his own dilating slightly and stepped closer, so close in fact that it would be hard to slide a sheet of paper between them.&nbsp; He leaned closer, his face lowering towards hers, his eyes still looking deeply into hers.<br><br>The room was completely silent, but for the faint ticking of the clock on the mantlepiece.&nbsp; They were completely alone, with no sign of any of the palace servants or staff.&nbsp; And Rupert's face lowered still closer and his breath caressed her cheek.&nbsp; And then his lips were but a hair's breadth away from hers and he turned his head aside to breath softly into her ear instead.<br><br>"Alas," he said, aware that she must be able to feel his excitement at being so very close to her pulsing through his hose.&nbsp; "This already is far more than I could do in public, Seren.&nbsp; Were I to be seen kissing you publicly, it would be a sign that you were to become my queen."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>11-05-2009, 00:48:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He surprised her.<br><br>It was amusing and bothersome, yet she let him pull her to her feet, she let him move closer to her, so close, teasingly and she found that she wanted to know how this man tasted against her lips. Which was odd, for he did not stir her the way Del did. Two such different men, both getting such interesting reactions from her in so short a time. Life was never boring.<br><br>He was an expert tease and her eyes flashed with mirth, showing none of the longing she suddenly felt. So she wasn't worthy of his kiss, perhaps it had been foolish to demand it from the king, but, it made her heart grow cold knowing that she was beneath him this way, at least in his eyes. And she used the anger. <br><br>Her lips quirked in a teasing smirk. "Kisses are cheap my lord, but do as you will." <br><br>And then she pulled herself away from him, picking up her fan and gliding toward the door. "I have other matters to attend to." When really, she wanted to hide, hide from the fact that she would never be worthy of a kiss from a man like him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>11-05-2009, 21:31:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rupert coughed, softly and watched her move towards the door.&nbsp; He shook his head and spoke equally softly, but clearly enough that she must surely hear every carefully enunciated word.<br><br>"It is good that I am not my father," he said.&nbsp; "For he would have had you flogged for attempting to leave the royal presence without permission."&nbsp; He walked over to her slowly. "I do not agree with such attitudes, though the likes of the chamberlain wish that I would.&nbsp; If you think that kisses are cheap then you had better be prepared to pay the price, Seren, for if you were seen kissing me, your life would never ever be your own again and you would not be free to live with the freedom that you were so keen to be a part of our arrangement."&nbsp; He turned her to him and looked down at her.<br><br>"And strange as it might seem, it might well be that I have never kissed a woman and meant it," he said. "And I fear that I might do so poorly that I should lose all respect in those glorious eyes of yours."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>12-05-2009, 01:40:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				At his words she turned, her dark eyes glittering dangerously, the seductress was still present, but it was clear she was enraged. No one threatened her, no one did that and got away with it. As he looked down at her she glared up at him, not an ounce of fear in her eyes. Seren did not take to someone trying to confine her well, but she had never thought of a kiss as he did apparently. All her kisses had been paid for, in either blood or money. <br><br>Her eyes flashed with the memories of the enslavement of her early years, the reason she clung to her freedom so closely and they darkened. Her freedom was everything to her, she would never give it over to a man, not if she could stop it. And she could kill now, she had, standing here with the King of her country she knew that regardless of the strange attraction she had for him at the moment she could easily kill him before anyone understood what was happening. Her hair pins, the scarf around her garter, the vile of oil tainted with poison in her bodice. Women weapons, good weapons.<br><br>"Fine my lord, no kisses. No touches, this should be interesting, now please unhand me and let me go, I do have other things to do with my time then wait upon your schemes."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>12-05-2009, 22:27:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Rupert laughed then, the sound throaty and full of what seemed to be affectionate amusement.&nbsp; His eyes twinkled and he grinned, lifting his hand from her arm and, stepping aside, he offered her a courtly bow.<br><br>"Gods woman," he said, "What a Queen you would make.&nbsp; It truly is a shame that you do not have the court's approval, for fire and strength of will like that are the very things that are lacking from all of the vapid damsels they throw at me."&nbsp; He paused and pulled at the collar of his doublet a little and lifted his hand to spoil the neat lines of his hair.<br><br>"There," he said.&nbsp; "Please allow me to escort you to the exit.&nbsp; I'm sure my dishevelled appearance will add to your reputation, m'lady."&nbsp; He gestured to the door and smiled. "After you."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>12-05-2009, 23:03:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her eyes narrowed at the laugh, she didn't take kindly to being laughed at but his words softened the blow some, along with him doing what she asked and bowing to her. The courtesan sniffed and snapped open her fan once more, shielding her face from him outside of her intense eyes. "I rule, just in a darker place then the one of glory you have."<br><br>There was pride in her, and she wondered if he would ever know that she could have been one of the noble daughters presented to him had her life been different. Ironic, so bitterly ironic. She watched him muss himself up with a soft laugh, then tsking as she lowered her fan, a hand lifting up to boldy move to his hair, running her fingers through it to make it look less like he had just idly done it, more like a woman had done it in passion. "Leave this to me, the appearances, I know how to play it..."<br><br>Her hand dropped then, tracing down his face, along his jaw, thumb brushing over his lips, her eyes dark and hazy with the welcome they held, it was in her nature now to tempt a man, especially one as handsome as this. Her hand moved down his neck to his clothing as she gripped it, crumbling the fabric slightly before moving back toward the door. <br><br>She wondered if he knew what he had gotten&nbsp; into, she never followed the rules of anyone else, not even a King. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>31-05-2009, 00:27:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It had been a relatively uncomplicated day for Del.&nbsp; He had left the courtesan's home and had holed up in a tavern down by the riverside.&nbsp; It had become a usual mid-morning and lunchtime haunt for him; he sat in a quiet corner of the bar, playing his mandolin and occasionally singing.&nbsp; It had begun when he had first entered the city and needed somewhere to practise and when the landlord realised that his takings were noticeably higher when Del was playing, he made it worth Del's while to continue.&nbsp; In short, Del was not singing for his supper but his playing was worth his lunch.<br><br>The afternoon was not so easy for him, as he had been apprehended by a number of guardsmen as he left the tavern.&nbsp; While they had not been rough, they had left Del under now doubt that they would enforce his "coming with them."&nbsp; The platoon took him to an elegant building near to the palace complex.&nbsp; Therem a somewhat bored looking official interviewed him for an hour-and-a-half, cross examining him over inconsequentialities, before explaining exactly what he was there for.&nbsp; It seemed that his popularity had drawn royal interest and he the king would require his services in two days time to entertain him over lunch.<br><br>Given the nature of how he had been engaged for this performance, Del had more than half a mind to decline the offer, but then curiosity had won out.&nbsp; It would be interesting to see the inside of the palace and, after all, he had some experience with the nobility.&nbsp; Hadn't his mentor arranged- somehow- for him to pitch his tent whenever he wanted on one of the Viscount Starfell's lawns.&nbsp; As a result, Del had got to know the viscount very well so, he thought, he should fit in well enough with the royals.<br><br>So it was, when he returned to Seren's home at the appointed time, Del was somewhat jaded without his usual optimism.&nbsp; So, beneath her window, he strummed and sang:<br><br><div align="center"><em>My lady, like a queen,<br>You've drawn my feet right hither;<br>And in this garden scene<br>I pray my hope won't wither.<br>For though we have begun<br>To explore both sense and feeling;<br>You could just bid me gone<br>And send me away reeling,<br>And thus eclipse my sun<br>With us in darkness sealing!</em></div> 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>31-05-2009, 17:47:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Seren threw open her shutters and looked down at him as he sang, her eyes happy to see Del, after such a stressful day she had been looking forward to the odd man and his conversation and his way of loving. When she heard his words, and the meaning behind it she frowned, her brow eyes snapping.<br><br>With a sigh she leaned over the window. "Oh do get over the issue, I told you to come back, I want you. Now get up here, today has been far too long and odd for my liking." She managed a smile at him as she tossed her hair.<br><br>"I've been looking forward to our time, so please, just come on." She didn't realize just how out of character it was for her but she craved the sort of interlude they had had last night, and she wanted again. So she would have it, and that part at least, was Seren.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>08-06-2009, 23:00:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A few moments later, Del was in the courtesan's apartment.&nbsp; His eyes twinkled as he approached her, resting his mandolin against a wall.<br><br>"So today was trying was it?"&nbsp; He asked, his eyes barely narrowing as he tried to gauge if it were Seren or Talia to whom he were speaking.&nbsp; "I must admit, I had a most <em>interesting</em> day also, though I doubt it compares with yours."&nbsp; He reached out and stroked her cheek.&nbsp; His eyes were soft and brown as they met hers.<br><br>"So tell me, what's your pleasure for this night.&nbsp; After all, I am here for you."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>08-06-2009, 23:04:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When he entered her rooms she let out a slight sigh of relief, shaking her head at his question. There was a line of annoyance to the cast of her eyes, the shape of her mouth just thinking about the day. She wanted nothing to do with that, for once she wanted to forget who it was exactly she had made herself. She wanted to be Talia and just Talia. Which should have shocked her, but somehow it didn't. Not with an outlet at last.<br><br>When he touched her cheek she turned her face into that caress, dark eyes fluttering shut as she let out another deep breath, some of the annoyance bleeding out of her and leaving her just slightly deflated. Tali raised her peru eyes to meet his brown ones and managed a smile, she could have sworn his eyes were blue, but something about them were soothing.<br><br>"You said you could show me a few new tricks right? Well tonight...I don't want to be in control, I just want to feel okay?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>08-06-2009, 23:45:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Then feel," Del said, his eyes deep and dark as he slid his fingers around and into her hair, leaning in to kiss her.&nbsp; His lips met hers and pressed softly, even as his body pressed softly and eagerly against hers.&nbsp; He ran the fingers of his other hand up her spine and, as he did so, a faint blue sheen washed over his eyes as he extended his senses into her to determine how close Talia was to the surface.<br><br>He could sense her aura and he could sense the imbalance of the sacred passions within her.&nbsp; In Seren, lust had become a lust for power and security, fuelled by a rage that still burned from her past and a fear of being helpless.&nbsp; He could see that he had been lucky indeed- he was still very lucky- that she had opened up enough for him to see Talia's capacity for wonder and her nascent capacity for empathy.<br><br>And then the sweet perfume of her hair and the softness of her body made him put such considerations aside and he deepened the kiss.&nbsp; His tongue pressed past her lips to probe her mouth.&nbsp; One hand tangled in the silken luxury of her hair and the other stroked a circle at the small of her back.<br><br>"You're tense," he said, breaking the kiss, reluctantly.&nbsp; "I think I can do something about that.&nbsp; Would you like a massage?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>08-06-2009, 23:53:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She smiled, he made it sound so easily. But as he ran his hand through her long sable hair she found herself being less cynical then normal, and a soft sigh of delight came just as his lips touched hers. She moved into that kiss, shivering as his hand moved up her back, teasing and exploring. He was a good kisser, one who made her eager for more of his lips, her eyes fluttering shut to savor the feeling of their embrace.<br><br>He was all around her, and he smelled so good. Talia was glad that she had not sent him away, that she had kept him for herself tonight, a greedy pleasure to hole away with. It was right, what she had done with the King, she could help him and keep Del as a lover for as long as they both wished. Part of her knew, with a heartbreak that lingered like a haunting, that this could not last. Nothing good lasted. But for now, she pushed those thoughts away and just clung to the one moment in time and the pleasure it gave her. She forsake the hard lessons of preparing and anticipation she had learned as Seren and gave into her desires, her longings like the young girl she had never been able to be. <br><br>Talia opened her lips eagerly for more, to deepen the kiss and the tangle his hand made in her hair, the feel of it there made her shiver in delight. When the broke the kiss she let out a faint whimper of protest before her eyes flew open and in surprise she looked at him. Del surprised her, soothed her. He offered her pleasure without demanding his own, she was so use to being the one giving, giving and giving of her body, of pleasure and taking only money in return, it was so odd to lay with a man without money being a part of it. But she wasn't just laying with him.<br><br>"I...I would love one." She smiled and it was a shyer sort, softer then the sexually charged and confident one she usually flashed. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>21-06-2009, 14:19:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Del led Talia/Seren to the bed, still uncertain which side of her was dominant at this juncture.&nbsp; He laid her down onto the matress, whispering encouragingly to her and began to lightly run his hands over her supine body.<br><br>"Ssshhhhhhhhhh..." he whispered as his hands ran from her wrists up her arms to her shoulders and along her collar bones&nbsp; to the hollow at the hollow at the base of her throat.&nbsp; And then he drew his fingers down, over her gown and between her breasts all the way to her navel and then out wide to the outside of her hips and down.&nbsp; Over and again he repeated this and then, with another soft, "Shhh..." he turned her over and placed his palms on her shoulders.<br><br>Somehow, he had loosened her clothing without her noticing.&nbsp; Thus when Del drew his hands down Talia's back- he doubted Seren would have lain so quiescently- her clothes followed with it, until she lay there completely unclad.&nbsp; With the whole canvas of her skin to paint his touch upon, he focussed initially at the very bottom of her spine.<br><br>Del eased Talia's thighs apart with his questing fingers until he found the small square of skin at their apex vetween each of the two openings.&nbsp; His left fingertip pressed softly there and began to move in a small circle.&nbsp; As he massaged that oft untouched area, Del hummed softly to himself a melody of the orient, complex with implied harmonies that were too rich for the pentatonic modes of the far orient.&nbsp; Rather, the tune evoked the lush jungles and grassy plains baked in sweltering heat that were inhabited by the myriad peoples in whose philosophies much of Del's knowledge was rooted.<br><br>As he concentrated, the blue of his eyes darkened into a deep hazel and he sent a tendril of energy to clear any blockage in the red energy nexus he was massaging.&nbsp; He had sensed- he could sense still- that her sense of security and her basic sexuality had become tangled, leading to the need to dominate others through her courtesan's arts which manifested in her as Seren.&nbsp; With soft yet firm strokes of his fingers he massaged her Muladhara, separating the tangled impulses with subtle flows of energy until he was satisfied that his caress could work its way upwards to the small of her back...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>29-06-2009, 19:10:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was hard, to let someone else lead her to her bed. To give over control in this period, yet she did, because she was just too worn out to demand and take what she needed, to force the issue. And, she wanted something softer then most nights, she wanted the same she had experienced the night before. Talia let out a sigh as she reclined upon the bed, letting him touch her, enjoying the steady and sure pressure his hands gave. He was going to give her some sort of massage apparently, and her body was not at all against that.<br><br>She had no plan to move until he urged her over onto her stomach. A sigh came again, a deep steady breath as she stretched out her muscles, her body languid and relaxed as he touched her. When she felt her clothing loosening another exhale of air came, this one with a gentle happy noise, she was being released from the confinement of her garments. Her legs shifted, nude tawny flesh glimmering in the candlelight. It felt nice to relax while someone pampered her, and indeed that was what it felt like Del was doing.<br><br>When his fingers dipped into such a intimate and hardly touched area she made a soft sound of protest, about to move. Yet he massaged the small spot, and hummed, her body went happily limp, enjoying a flush of warmth that moved over her. Whatever he was doing felt incredible and she was in no hurry to end it now. He moved slowly, doing something to relax her.<br><br>Seren retreated in her mind, and Talia just lay, relaxed and in awe as his touched her, a soft shiver of delight wracking her body.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Neroon</strong> on <strong>04-07-2009, 13:40:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Feeling her melt under his touch, Del stroked gently with his fingertips around the small of Talia's back- he was sure now that Seren had faded into quietness- and he began to probe the muscles surrounding the nerve plexus.&nbsp; As he did so, he fed more energy into her, pulling at the somewhat confused energy flows here.<br><br>In this part of her spine, or Svadisthana as he had been taught, the flows regulated basic emotional needs.&nbsp; He could sense, almost see a thin golden threadlike flow of energy around which a thicker pulsing red flow coiled and with a flash of intuition he interpreted it.&nbsp; Her addiction to power and being in control was strangling off her capacity to build meaningful relationships.&nbsp; A violent seeming, livid purple thread seemed to conspire with the red one in choking the golden thread and the two of them pulled the green thread that signified pleasure into a new path.<br><br>Del carefully pulled and teased at the threads, carefully easing them into more normal flows and, satisfied with his handiwork sent his fingers higher, bending down to plant a soft kiss at the base of her spine.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Within the Boudoir [Wistful Dream &amp; Neroon]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>28-07-2009, 06:07:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The woman shifted, shivering softly at the stroke of his fingers over her bared flesh. He was giving her the most amazing massage of her life, so deep and complete, she could only sigh in pleasure and let him do as he willed. Certainly there was no thought of pulling away from the pleasure, and even with Seren in her mind she was not the type to turn down a freely given pleasure, she had too few of those. <br><br>She shifted beneath him, her lips parting in a happy sigh as her eyes fluttered shut. It felt strange, whatever he was doing, but good as well and she had trusted him in her bed last night, without money involved. And invited him back for a second night. So unless he drew steel on her she didn't really have any plan to disrupt what he was doing. Though she could not lie to herself that some part of her was excited to have him in her bed again, to experience the pleasures of this bard. It was certainly relieving after trying to dissect the offer of the king all afternoon.<br><br>When he kissed her spine she flexed her shoulder blades, shifting and turned slightly to look at him, a warm, surprisingly tenderly soft smile on her lips. "Are you done? As wonderful as that was...I want to be able to touch you as well."
			</dd>
		</dl>
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