In Seville (lips and thorns & Athena)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Athena on 13-06-2010, 03:56:04</h2>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>In Seville (lips and thorns &amp; Athena)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athena</strong> on <strong>13-06-2010, 03:56:04</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Michaela Lasko massaged her temple with the heel of her hand as she scanned the pages of the Spanish-text romance novel she was reading. Or <em>trying</em> to read. She had been in Seville for four months, and still she couldn't read, write or speak Spanish any better than she could before she left Maine. Given all time and effort she had put into learning the language even prior to leaving the States, the fact that she was still having problems was unfortunate, to say the least.<br><br>Of course, there was more to her eagerness to absorb the language than idle curiosity. After much hard work and dedication, her husband, Kevin, was extended an offer to lead an international engineering project which was scheduled to cover the span of two years in Seville, Spain. It was a definite milestone in his career, and with the financial bonuses involved, it would have been insane to pass on the offer.<br><br>He almost had. While he had been eager and ready to jump at the opportunity, Michaela was established in her own right. With a Master's in Speech, Language Pathology, as well as a few years' experience working in outpatient clinics as a speech therapist, she finally managed to secure an even better therapist position at the State Hospital - an employer she had been eying since graduate school. So when Keven presented her with the news of his offered promotion, it was no surprise to her to see that he held back his excitement for the sake of her own feelings on the matter. It was a huge relocation for an extended period of time, and he didn't want to make her feel bad for not wanting to move if moving didn't sit well with her. "It's absolutely fine if we don't go," he'd said. "We're still young. We still have plenty of time to relocate down the line if now's not the right time." It was his way of giving her an out, and she loved him for it. Throughout her days as an overworked, underpaid intern, and even further thereafter, he had never <em>not</em> been supportive. Even with his own promotion on the table, she knew that he really would have been fine with declining the offer if moving to Spain would make her unhappy.<br><br>Which was why she agreed to the move. Not easily, not quickly, but she agreed. It was her turn to give and be selflessly supportive of his career, the way he had been so supportive of hers since the beginning. Plus, it was Spain; it had been on her list of countries to visit for years, and she was sure she wouldn't possibly get bored. She decided that while Kevin was working, she would take in the sights and soak up the culture. For the first month or two, it was fabulous - taking in the area with wide-eyed wonder and enjoying the discovery of monuments and museums. Dining, shopping, conversing (as best she could) with locals, it was all quite enjoyable and gave her a true sense of Spanish charm.<br><br>After weeks of playing tourist, however, the realities of being a foreign housewife began to settle in. She could only visits the same museums and go to the same markets so many times before it got tiresome. Because she was still horrid with the language, she didn't feel quite comfortable traveling outside of Seville without Kevin. Therefore, the most enjoyment she got out of the day was going to cafes, such as the one she was currently in, and working on her language acquisition. Kevin already knew the language in that he was raised with a Spanish mother in a bilingual household. He had helped her as much as he could, both before and after the move, but now that his project was well underway, gone were the days when he could take the time to sit and tutor her. In any case, it was fine. If she had to be in Spain for two years, then she may as well take command of her own education. She figured perhaps she could even unearth a topic for a dissertation, should she ever get around to applying for a doctorate program.<br><br>At the rate she was going, however, it'd be a miracle if she could flawlessly make her way through a paragraph of Spanish, let alone write an in depth, expository piece on the language. With a sigh, she took a long drag off the cigarette cradled between her fingers and proceeded to flip to the previous page - as if that page would somehow be "less Spanish" and therefore easier to comprehend than the one following it.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Seville (lips and thorns &amp; Athena)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>lips and thorns</strong> on <strong>13-06-2010, 20:54:27</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				In the densely packed sidewalk cafe, space was shared rather intimately.&nbsp; Mariana de Costa was seated at a table adjacent to Michaela's, meaning that she sat within arm's reach of the woman's book.&nbsp; Each were angled slightly away from each other in the unconscious way people manage their personal space.&nbsp; Until now neither had paid notice to the other, two among a half a dozen seated in the small cobblestoned square along a pedestrian street.<br><br>Mariana was a stately woman in her mid 30s, with dark brown hair hanging in waves down her to her midback, a regal nose and a chin which naturally held high in the air.&nbsp; While her serious demeanor, and her nearly black eyes, made for an imposing presence, it was offset by an air of sensuality around her.&nbsp; She was not dressed immodestly, not like some of the women who paraded the Seville streets in their tight or lowcut tops and dangerous heels.&nbsp; But the pendant that hung in the neck of her top certainly drew one's attention to the slight swell of her breasts visible, and the skirt that she wore, while of modest length, clung to her hips in a way invited your look and touch.&nbsp; Her body, while not on display, certainly invited one's curiosity as to what those long legs might look like bared, what that long neck might look like, arched back, her hair free.<br><br>Right now Mariana's fingers danced lightly along the rim of her demitasse.&nbsp; She stared vacantly over the heads of those seated before her, lost in thought.&nbsp; She was an artist, and not a stranger to daydreams.&nbsp; But she was also a gallery owner, and not prone to being absentminded.&nbsp; She had long ago rejected the path of the starving artist, deciding instead to surround herself with art while still managing to make a living.&nbsp; And it was a living which allowed her moments like this, relaxing at the cafe and chasing after the glimpses of a painting slowly unfurling in her mind.<br><br>Mariana glanced sideways, perhaps drawn in by the sound of a page turning.&nbsp; She noticed the woman seated next to her, and with the idle curiosity of the artist, took her in.&nbsp; She watched the woman's lips working silently as she obviously struggled with the book, she took in her profile there in the afternoon light.&nbsp; Something invited her approach.<br><br>Mariana spoke a few words in Spanish to the woman, reading the title of the book, then translating.&nbsp; "Borders of the Night," she said, her voice was deep and musical even in English.&nbsp; "Of all our grand literature, you choose this?&nbsp; I think you will find it is full of, how do you say?&nbsp; Colloquialisms.&nbsp; Euphemisms?"&nbsp; She smiled at the woman, a smile which was subtle, slight, an inviting change in her regal face.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Seville (lips and thorns &amp; Athena)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athena</strong> on <strong>14-06-2010, 03:29:43</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				So caught up was Michaela in her efforts to absorb the words on the page, her brow creased with concentration, that it took a second for her to realize someone was speaking to her. Still in study mode, the furrow in her brow lingered slightly as she pulled her eyes away from the page and looked over at the person addressing her.<br><br>She hadn't been expecting what she saw, causing her expression to soften immediately. To say the woman was beautiful was an understatement.&nbsp; Seville was swarming with beautiful women - indeed, Michaela had noticed - but few were as striking as the one before her now. Hers was a natural, classic beauty, the kind that could not be created simply by obtaining a fit body, makeup, and formfitting clothes. Accentuated by a soothing, sultry voice, and all Michaela could do was chuckle, a bit embarrassed by having been called out on her choice of reading material, and offer a small shrug. "It was on sale, and judging by the cover," she nodded toward the book in reference to the busty redhead pressed hotly against the chiseled bare chest of her male companion, "I figured it would be an easy read. Of course, I figured wrong."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Seville (lips and thorns &amp; Athena)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>lips and thorns</strong> on <strong>14-06-2010, 21:40:22</strong>
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				Mariana looked at the cover Michaela referred to.&nbsp; It was rather tawdry, the sort of thing publishers thought reeked of sex.&nbsp; But Mariana knew that sex didn't look or feel anything like that.<br><br>"Well, the people that read those books, they are avid readers," Mariana explained with that hint of a smile still.&nbsp; "I suppose they grow their vocabularies very quickly."&nbsp; <br><br>Mariana's attention strayed away from the book almost immediately now that she had the dark haired woman's attention.&nbsp; She was, if anything, a flirt, and it was something a lesbian could get away with more than most since most women didn't even pick up on it.&nbsp; "You are trying to learn our language?&nbsp; You should be up, using your voice, not hiding behind that book," she said in her rather commanding way, challenging the woman.&nbsp; She was really quite a beauty and Mariana wondered how she had missed her sitting right next to her.&nbsp; Truly hiding behind that book she supposed.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Seville (lips and thorns &amp; Athena)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athena</strong> on <strong>15-06-2010, 05:16:06</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Michaela's eyes widened a bit, taken off guard by the woman's bold approach.&nbsp; It wasn't everyday that she found herself in situations like this - small talking with a beautiful stranger who wasn't afraid to toss sharp criticisms her way within moments of meeting. While she always liked to think of herself as someone who looked beneath the surface when it came to others, she had to admit to herself that she wouldn't have found the woman's strong demeanor nearly as charming if the woman wasn't so gorgeous.<br><br>It was then that Michaela looked away, her eyes going to the ashtray to her right as she tapped her cigarette against the rim. "Language acquisition happens in stages," she explained, her smile ever-present. "You start with silence, taking in visuals and symbols, and then you work your way up to speech. But since you seem to be a fan of vocals, we'll start with <em>nombre</em>." She set the book down and extended her free hand as her eyes met the woman's. "Michaela."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Seville (lips and thorns &amp; Athena)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>lips and thorns</strong> on <strong>15-06-2010, 21:06:38</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				And now Mariana smiled in earnest, her eyes crinkling, the smile spreading widely across her face and the delight clear in her eyes.&nbsp; She liked them with a little spunk.&nbsp; Extending one long fingered hand and pressing it into Michaela's grip, she bored into the woman's eyes.&nbsp; <br><br>"Vocals have their place.&nbsp; But in time each of the senses should have its due.&nbsp; Silence and vision, followed by touch and sensation."&nbsp; She shook her hand, her firm grip and warm and soft.&nbsp; "I am Mariana.&nbsp; It is good to have met you here, Michaela."&nbsp; She spoke Michaela's name with great care, as if caressing it with her voice.&nbsp; <br><br>"You're masquerading as just a pretty face with your book choice here, sitting to be seen and appreciated.&nbsp; But there is more to that underneath your beautiful skin.&nbsp; I can see that now."&nbsp; She smiled, laying on the compliments thick, though she didn't know if the woman would see through to this or think it merely a product of her Spanish culture and language difficulties.<br><br>"If you really wish to learn our tongue, you must come to my dinner party," Mariana added impulsively, taking the hand in both of hers now in a forward manner, but as if it was only natural, the custom.&nbsp; "It is only for people like us.&nbsp; You can tell us all about your book," she joked, but her eyes never strayed from Michaela.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Seville (lips and thorns &amp; Athena)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athena</strong> on <strong>17-06-2010, 05:02:51</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Michaela hesitated for a moment, not quite sure where everything was going. She had been paying close attention to their conversation up until Mariana graciously complimented her on her appearance. From there, everything was a blur. It wasn't so much the idea of receiving a compliment as it was the manner in which the compliment was delivered - smooth, languid, bold without being too forward. <br><br>Perhaps it was the culture? After all, she was in a Latin country - passion, dominance, sensuality and warmth ran deep. Maybe the best thing to do, at least to err on the side of caution, was to go along with it and consider it to be customary practice. With that it mind, it was far beyond Michaela to seriously question any of it. <br><br>Of course, she had only started to reel her sense back in line when Mariana cradled her hand and invited her to dinner. <em>That</em> was definitely unexpected. Not only that, but even after processing the invite, Michaela still had no earthly idea how to respond. She was hardly the best at dinner table conversation, and her heart jumped a bit from both nervousness and excitement when Mariana mentioned <em>people like us</em>. Exactly what did that mean?<br><br>Allowing her hand to remain between Mariana's, she decided to test the waters. "An invite to a dinner party and all I had to do was sit here with a trashy romance novel. Not too bad." Her smile remained as she sat up straight, occasionally losing herself in Mariana's eyes. "Does this invitation include a guest?" she asked. "This is only in case my husband shows interest."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Seville (lips and thorns &amp; Athena)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>lips and thorns</strong> on <strong>17-06-2010, 17:10:07</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Mariana smirked at Michaela's response, not letting go her hand.&nbsp; "It is a woman's right to follow her intuition, no?&nbsp; Or be impulsive at least.&nbsp; You are the only woman I have ever met reading a trashy novel as work.&nbsp; It is quite unusual, no?"<br><br>Her eyes bored into Michaela's as the woman mentioned her husband, as if weighing something.&nbsp; "I do not know this husband of yours.&nbsp; Perhaps we will meet someday.&nbsp; But no, the invitation is for you, as my guest.&nbsp; If you have time to wile away your hours here, studying our trashy novels, I'm sure you can slip away for dinner.&nbsp; More language study, you can tell him."&nbsp; She smiled, though her eyes did not, as if she was testing this woman.&nbsp; <br><br>"Much more interesting to learn the words when you are listening to interesting talk.&nbsp; Miguel there is a philosopher, I don't even know some of the words he uses.&nbsp; And you will met Penelope.&nbsp; A very interesting writer."&nbsp; Mariana patted her hand as if it were a done deal.&nbsp; "Let me write down the address for you."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Seville (lips and thorns &amp; Athena)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athena</strong> on <strong>21-06-2010, 02:19:48</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				And just like that, it seemed to be a done deal. Michaela wasn't sure what it was that made Mariana take such an interest in her, but the woman made it perfectly clear that she wasn't willing to accept 'no' for an answer. Not that Michaela was thinking about declining the invitation; it would do her some good to socialize and get to know people outside of Kevin's circle of colleagues. And she was sure he would agree.<br><br>Kevin. There was a brief moment where Michaela thought she had heard some disdain in Mariana's voice at the mention of her husband. Indeed, Mariana wasted no time making it known that he was <em>not</em> invited to this particular dinner party. Michaela found it slightly offputting that Mariana was so dismissive of Kevin, but seeing as she, in turn, wasted no time handing Mariana a pen, the rejection was obviously not offputting enough.<br><br>"I'm curious," Michaela said, watching Mariana carefully with a small smile. "Do you always go around inviting strangers to dinner parties with well-to-do artisan types, or am I a special case?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: In Seville (lips and thorns &amp; Athena)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>lips and thorns</strong> on <strong>12-07-2010, 22:30:17</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Mariana dug through a small handbag for a pen and a scrap of paper.&nbsp; She busied herself writing down the address, strands of dark hair falling around her face as she bent over the table.&nbsp; She only glanced up once, taking a sideways look at Michaela during her question, and then back to the paper.<br><br>"I make sure I have the best dinner parties in Seville, whether that means inviting a stranger or not.&nbsp; As for the rest, I trust my intuition, and it tells me you are a special one indeed.&nbsp; Don't you agree?"&nbsp; Finishing her writing, Mariana sat up straight backed and tall and held out the paper between two fingers. 
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