Aftershock (For CyanDimitrik)

[Letta]

With both hands cradling Bandita's soft cheeks, Laxia allowed the kiss to deepen. It felt almost dreamlike. Perhaps it was the exhaustion, her body still aching and heavy from the punishment of the match. Or perhaps it was simply the woman in front of her. Somewhere along the way, Laxia stopped trying to think and simply surrendered herself to the sweetness of the moment. Even the shift in their positions felt natural. As though they already understood what the other wanted, their bodies moved together with effortless fluidity. Before long, Laxia found herself sinking back into the couch with Bandita settling over her.

“Mmm....”

When Bandita's arms wrapped around her narrow waist, whatever distance remained between them disappeared. Their chests pressed together, their abdomens meeting with every breath, and just as they had in the ring, Bandita's body naturally slipped between Laxia's thighs. The sensation was familiar, yet completely different, spreading through her like an electric current. “Mmmh....!” A muffled sound escaped between their kisses. Laxia pulled Bandita closer still, her fingers tightening against the luchadora's shoulders as though unwilling to let even the slightest distance return between them. Eventually, Bandita broke the kiss.

“Hah.... haaa....”

Laxia drew in heated breaths of her own. Her face was flushed a vivid red, her blue eyes only half-open and softened by a languid haze. As the rush slowly began to settle, the practiced aloofness and carefully maintained dignity faded from her expression with it. What remained was something much softer. Warm, gentle, and affectionate. The Laxia hidden behind the noblewoman's mask, a side of herself she rarely allowed anyone else to see. With her guard lowered, there was even something unexpectedly simple and slightly awkward about the way she gazed up at Bandita. When the confession came, Laxia could only offer a faint smile.

The sweet whisper against her ear made her grip the edge of the couch again, but she could not think of anything to say in return. How could she? Everything Bandita described felt far too much like her own experience. She had not been able to get the luchadora out of her mind either. Not when she had pinned Bandita. Not when Bandita had trapped her beneath her in return. During the match she had fought desperately to escape those situations, yet somehow every one of them remained impossibly vivid. “...I felt the same.” Laxia's voice came out breathy. “When you had me... when I had you. Somehow, every bit of it...” The rest never made it out.

Bandita's body pressed closer once again. The warmth carried through every point where they touched, until even the last trace of space between them disappeared. Her hips shifted against Laxia's, and somehow that smallest movement carried more weight than all the closeness before it. Their lower curves found one another as though slipping naturally into a place already remembered, leaving Laxia acutely aware of every inch where they met.Laxia's body jolted sharply in response. Her head tipped back on instinct, exposing the line of her throat as the orange hair she had so carefully fixed only moments ago scattered with the motion.

“Aaaah...! Nnnh...!!”

There was no time to hide it this time. The raw sound slipped straight past her lips. One hand clutched the edge of the couch until her knuckles went pale, while the other instinctively tangled itself into the hair she had only just managed to put back in order, ruining it all over again. Her back arched tautly away from the cushions for a moment before sinking down again, a fine tremor following from her shoulders through her waist. She had thought the lingering sensations were finally beginning to fade. She had been wrong. The heat that had settled beneath the surface suddenly flared back to life, carrying everything she had felt before along with it. What had been little more than a lingering echo moments ago swelled into another powerful wave that swept through her all at once. This time, Laxia did not even think about resisting it.

[CyanDimitrik]

Any notions of hesitating or second-guesses that might've lingered and dared to hiss in Bandita's ear was quelled the instant Laxia's bod reacted in that deeply natural way; everything from the intense arch of her back to the sound she made, how her arms reached up and out, as if exquisitely anguished. Not only was the lower friction new, exciting, and thrilling for its own sake, but this felt raw. Powerful.

The Latina is helpless to resist the rush of instincts taking over, demanding more of that contact. More intensely. She wants more of that heat, more of that tension, she's craving the sound of Laxia's voice, the feel of her slender body arcing up against her in a struggle not to break free, but to stay pinned.

Dark thighs press between Laxia's as she widens the spread, and she rolls her body against the form so desperately offered up to her. Breasts slide beneath Laxia's, pushing upwards against her in a heavy grind. Every point of sensitivity meeting, the rapid beat of her heart, nothing hidden from the ginger. Her midsection flexes as her beaten abdominals slide against the other girl's, reveling in the feel of her warm, tensing muscletone, every inhale pushing them together, every exhale causing the abs to tighten against one another, to feel more defined and pronounced against the skin. But the hips are where the focus is now, Bandita's finding the sweetspot slightly beneath and in front of Laxia's in meeting. And once she's found the point that elicited that delectable reaction, she begins shifting against her, rocking herself intimately forward and back, feeling the other girl out through the material of their trunks.

"Anh.. anh.. anh..!"

Each stroke carries with it a tightened breath, every exhale bathing her fair skin with wet warmth. And soon, her lips are occupied with Laxia's flesh, finding the exposed neck seemingly offered. Irresistibly offered. Planted upon the side of her throat, she suckles on the skin, tongue edged out to taste her for the first time. Her body remains locked and grinding upon the her princess's, riding her form.