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Interlude: Aelgifu

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June 3, 2016 by Lyn

The knock on Io’s door came later Sunday night than she’d been expecting, but not so late that she’d started to worry. Nevertheless, she was in her nightgown already; but, that hardly mattered, given the company she was expecting. She opened the door.

Ayla smiled back at her, a little uncertainly. “I’m late, I know.”

“That’s okay, come on in, angel. What kept you?”

“Sheen wanted to hang out.” She wrinkled her nose as she stepped in. “With Xaviera, too.”

Ioanna closed the door and returned to the bed, flopping down on it in a comfortable, if not exactly modest, sprawl. “Xaviera, huh? How’s that working out for them?”

Ayla, her eyes never leaving Io, began peeling her khakis off. “Hard to tell. None of them seem really thrilled with the arrangement.” Her nose wrinkled at the very idea of it.

“What is the arrangement, anyway? Are they… keeping her close?”

Ioanna watched Ayla undress with a broad smile. The girl was just flawless, absolute perfection, although she’d learned not to actually say that to her. A pity, really, but they were working on those image problems.

Ayla, in turn, pretended not to notice the way Io was looking at her. “I don’t think so, I mean, they have a weird relationship, her and Emrys, but I don’t think it’s that out there.”

“Well, whatever they’re comfortable with, I suppose.” Io shrugged, letting the motion carry the nightgown just off her shoulder. Ayla wouldn’t want to be caught looking, but she would be looking all the same.

She chuckled ruefully in response, and hesitated, her hand on her own nightgown, still in “her” drawer of Ioanna’s dresser. “I admit, it’s one thing I like about this place.”

“We’re not very judgmental,” she nodded, then tilted her head. “Something on your mind, angel?”

“Just you, love.” She smiled shyly, as she did every time she used that term of endearment.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Io smiled back.

“I’m glad.” She licked her lips, and walked over to the bed slowly, leaving her nightgown on the dresser. “I like you.” Io watched her walk, one silky alabaster leg sliding in front of the other, and caught herself licking her own lips, wanting another taste of that delicate skin.

From the small smirk on Ayla’s face, she’d caught Io’s expression, and, for once, she didn’t seem to mind. She sat down on the bed, just far away enough to not be touching hips, and hesitantly brushed her hand over Ioanna’s bare shoulder.

Io smiled encouragingly at her as Ayla’s fingertips brushed the nightgown. “Go ahead.”

“Yeah?” Her smile grew, and she pushed the gown slowly down to the bed, following it with a line of tiny kisses.

“Yeah,” Ioanna breathed, arching into Ayla’s touch and reaching out to her, barely touching her soft skin.

“This…” She kissed one brown nipple and then the other slowly, looking up at Io between each kiss. “I want this.” She sounded as if she was asking permission.

“It’s yours. Take it, angel…”

“Lay back for me?” she asked shyly. She was trailing her hand down Ioanna’s back as she asked, down to her ass.

Ioanna did, slowly, easing herself down to the bed, looking up at Ayla over her own body. She was gorgeous like that, truly magnificent, her Angel indeed, and, as she leaned down, her golden hair seemed to make a halo around her. She kissed Io’s navel, then worked further downwards, pulling the nightgown off as she went.

“Oh, Ayla, angel,” Ioanna breathed.

“My love,” Ayla murmured, “Io.” She pushed Io’s panties to the floor, then knelt between Ioanna’s legs, caressing her thighs. Io swept a hand through that beautiful golden hair, long fingers just grazing the girl’s cheek and chin before rising.

She smiled back, almost hiding her tiny wince. All this time, and still she had trouble being looked at. No trouble continuing, though, nuzzling the inside of first one thigh and then the other before getting down to, as it were, the heart of the matter.

For several long, blissful minutes, there was nothing else in the world; no cares, no worries, just her Angel’s soft hands and warm tongue. Io ran her hand through the girl’s hair again, soft and sleek, until her hand touched the velveteen fur of the ears protruding from the top of her head… uh.

“Ayla?” she asked shakily.


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