V e i l N e b u l a
Caught up in a palentary world
The energy between them was fragile, new.
A world of unknown mysterious as silent and questioning as the universe, but as delectable as the first touch of spring. Veil reached towards her tail, the feather lifting the jewel, forcing her mind on observing the way the coins glint, and not on where she was touching. Silently forcing herself to not caress the hip within reach. To ensure she didn't bury her feathers into that very tail, to release the perfume trapped in those locks, to run her muzzle along the expanse of flesh at her dock. nibble upon her hips, nuzzle into her side. When had the thought of Torielle become so carnal, and primitive? She pulls away fast enough that the coins jingle as her feather lets them go, swallowing down the desire to let Torielle smother her entire existence until her star burned for only her.
Who was she kidding, it burned brighter already.
Torielle's touch ignited it as if she was the fuel that fired it up. As if the Nitrogen no longer was necessary, and she could live off the touch, the scent, the reassuring warmth of Torielle's presence. As if Torielle could ground her to earth, or place her among the stars. Torielle had become so much, in such a short time; and it made everything feel so new, feel so wild, and felt so . . . right. Like the gods had laid out a map, plotted the course, and thrust the two together upon a path of their own enlightenment. Veil would happily let Torielle enlighten her on any topic at this point. But, for now, the knowledge of adornments was enough. Already, the mare had gotten her style onto Veil's body, the bells and crystals chiming and glittering like pinpricks of stars within her dark mane, a friend dressing a friend was all it was. Wishing for more that she couldn't even name the feelings for would do little more than spiral her down into confusion and elation - and the two never failed to make her head spin, and her stomach turns into writhing butterflies.
It was safer to hide behind a friendly smile and touch when invited.
Until she could understand what it all meant properly, she would focus on the here and now - starting with letting Torielle dress her, even as she agreed to the long train, requesting a match in color - an equal to Torielle. Side by side, a matching pair. Not one and the other, but both. Both were good. Her smile lifted at the chiming of the bells, the sound unique to the other mare's nod. Oh Tempus, what does it mean when I know her movements by the pattern of chimes her bells create? She tries not to think about that, and instead she smiles with delight in the promise that she too could jingle.Perhaps in time, Torielle would know each movement she makes by the very pattern of her chimes. Ah, what better way to announce my arrival, than to chime . . . She agrees, though there was a slight skip to her tone as she pondered on why the terms 'have my way with you' made her star start flaring hotter, and her muzzle goes dry. Was it a threat, a promise; of something more . . . Was it wrong to try to peer into the meaning of such an innocent sentence? Hear her from miles away doing what - exactly? The dryness gets worse, If that's the way she prefers it . . . she ponders quietly, even as the star hides these thoughts with a playful smile, I guess we'll see if you live up to your dedication to do as you will with me. The star states quietly, gazing towards her lover her friend, they were friends; through half-lidded eyes. She'll ponder more on just how many ways Torielle wished to have her later.
These were dangerous waters when you're unsure.
Torielle meanders deeper in the tent, and like a planet orbiting their star, Veil follows, nosing her way through the racks as well, but her mind ignores the stallion selling his wares, her focus entirely split between watching the way Torielle moved,Damn her for bringing her attention to those enticing hips she STILL wanted to touch. and observing what they could find for her to wear. Until she caught sight of Torielle's face that was. The concentration was breathtaking, and Veil forgot the task at hand, instead she's simply watching Torielle. She could watch her for days, the way she moved, the way the veil fluttered against her neck, drawing the attention to the slope and curvature of her shoulders, the shine and shimmer of the bells upon her antlers. The sooty dappling upon her pelt that never failed to make her fur look so soft, Veil wanted to just cuddle into. Did Torielle know how perfect she was? Torielle wasn't a simple star . . .
Torielle was a constellation.
Fabric rustles, and Veil breaks her attention before she can be caught staring, blinking towards the stallion when he commented on 'girlfriend' the term unfamiliar, so she dismisses it to instead agree with him, Oh, That's lovely Torielle! She happily settles her star as Tori returns to her side, and after a moment of conflict, she bumps her shoulder against the antlered dame's, Alright, so, the train I understand enough, covers from about . . . . here. It's a moment of bravado, as her muzzle touches upon Torielle's skin, proving that fur to be as soft as she expected, tracing the line from her side, along those hips, And would fall down the tail? She asks, pulling her muzzle away before she could drown in that scent, in that touch, in that desire for more. But what exactly are the chains for? We can't wrap those around my tail if it's covered by the fabric. And thank Tempus, and his children; that the temptations were limited.
Who knew trying on clothes could be such a dangerous task?
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@Torielle
Notes:: Veil beat her. Veil touched the but first.
A world of unknown mysterious as silent and questioning as the universe, but as delectable as the first touch of spring. Veil reached towards her tail, the feather lifting the jewel, forcing her mind on observing the way the coins glint, and not on where she was touching. Silently forcing herself to not caress the hip within reach. To ensure she didn't bury her feathers into that very tail, to release the perfume trapped in those locks, to run her muzzle along the expanse of flesh at her dock. nibble upon her hips, nuzzle into her side. When had the thought of Torielle become so carnal, and primitive? She pulls away fast enough that the coins jingle as her feather lets them go, swallowing down the desire to let Torielle smother her entire existence until her star burned for only her.
Who was she kidding, it burned brighter already.
Torielle's touch ignited it as if she was the fuel that fired it up. As if the Nitrogen no longer was necessary, and she could live off the touch, the scent, the reassuring warmth of Torielle's presence. As if Torielle could ground her to earth, or place her among the stars. Torielle had become so much, in such a short time; and it made everything feel so new, feel so wild, and felt so . . . right. Like the gods had laid out a map, plotted the course, and thrust the two together upon a path of their own enlightenment. Veil would happily let Torielle enlighten her on any topic at this point. But, for now, the knowledge of adornments was enough. Already, the mare had gotten her style onto Veil's body, the bells and crystals chiming and glittering like pinpricks of stars within her dark mane, a friend dressing a friend was all it was. Wishing for more that she couldn't even name the feelings for would do little more than spiral her down into confusion and elation - and the two never failed to make her head spin, and her stomach turns into writhing butterflies.
It was safer to hide behind a friendly smile and touch when invited.
Until she could understand what it all meant properly, she would focus on the here and now - starting with letting Torielle dress her, even as she agreed to the long train, requesting a match in color - an equal to Torielle. Side by side, a matching pair. Not one and the other, but both. Both were good. Her smile lifted at the chiming of the bells, the sound unique to the other mare's nod. Oh Tempus, what does it mean when I know her movements by the pattern of chimes her bells create? She tries not to think about that, and instead she smiles with delight in the promise that she too could jingle.
These were dangerous waters when you're unsure.
Torielle meanders deeper in the tent, and like a planet orbiting their star, Veil follows, nosing her way through the racks as well, but her mind ignores the stallion selling his wares, her focus entirely split between watching the way Torielle moved,
Torielle was a constellation.
Fabric rustles, and Veil breaks her attention before she can be caught staring, blinking towards the stallion when he commented on 'girlfriend' the term unfamiliar, so she dismisses it to instead agree with him, Oh, That's lovely Torielle! She happily settles her star as Tori returns to her side, and after a moment of conflict, she bumps her shoulder against the antlered dame's, Alright, so, the train I understand enough, covers from about . . . . here. It's a moment of bravado, as her muzzle touches upon Torielle's skin, proving that fur to be as soft as she expected, tracing the line from her side, along those hips, And would fall down the tail? She asks, pulling her muzzle away before she could drown in that scent, in that touch, in that desire for more. But what exactly are the chains for? We can't wrap those around my tail if it's covered by the fabric. And thank Tempus, and his children; that the temptations were limited.
Who knew trying on clothes could be such a dangerous task?
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@Torielle
Notes:: Veil beat her. Veil touched the but first.
Could you be my super nova girl?
