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Tempest Serenity Ainsley-Tennyson (_tempest) wrote,

It was all about word choice. And it was all pretty much forgotten as soon as it had happened, really. At least on Tempest' end. It was hard to focus on much of anything when she had Zowie moaning and writhing beneath her, the heat and wetness between her own thighs growing to the point of being quite maddening. But denial of pleasure for herself was something that Tempest had quite a bit of experience with. There had been many times when she had simply gone down on Zowie to get her off and that had been the end of things. Tonight, however, was not going to be one of those nights.

But still, the turn that the conversation took caught her slightly off guard. Did Max just ask Zowie if he could fuck her? And did Zowie pretty much give him permission? She pulled back for a moment, cheeks flushed and face damp from her ministrations between Zowie's thighs. "What?" She needed to be sure she'd heard the conversation right.

"I'm not-" She paused, considering it a moment before she asked, "Are you sure?" The last thing that Tempest wanted to do was anything that would make Zowie upset or angry with either her or with Max. She had to admit, though, to being quite turned on right now. And curious, of course, which was only natural, about how it would feel to be fucked by someone who was as well endowed as Max was.

Licking her lips, Tempest replied in a soft voice, "Yes". That single word sent tingles of electricity pulsing through her from that very warm spot between her thighs to the very tips of all of her appendages. She was a little nervous, though, because of his size, and she could feel her body trembling ever so slightly as she busied herself with pressing soft kisses against Zowie's thighs and the soft flesh just above her sex, giving her a momentary reprieve.