This Is How We Do It (Feat. Maria Esteves, Gloria Kildahl, and Neith)

[DSX93]

Maria was...a lot of things right now. Scared. Wanting to be free of Neith's thighs for the first time in however long it's been. But still determined enough to give a smack to that side of herself that was tapping out. Still smitten and wanting to shoot for the title of "Greatest Subject", and nervous because she's trying to do that while also having never done fucking anything before. Encouraged by the moan Neith let loose and heated up in the best way at the sight of her hand travelling along her own figure. Mystified; she didn't know how well she was doing, and she wanted to.

She was being pulled in different directions, and the adrenaline and the rush of these emotions was crazy!

"Oh, so much need. So little chance to gain what you want. I hold your suffering in my hands, and all you can do is ask for its end."

Oh, she's mean!

And Maria is crazy. She wanted more. That evil grin was like a challenge. They'd established safe words before meeting up; Maria decided to go with the old, tried and true traffic sign colors. Green, yellow, and red. Something nice and simple to get by until she can come up with her own code like all the real kinksters.

That last squeeze took her well into the yellow zone, which felt like a failure on her part. She wouldn't have been able to explain why if you asked her. It just did. And she'd do a better job of enduring the next time. Which she wasn't itching to get to right this minute.

Maria obediently started on the best damn massage that she could muster, resuming her newly formed "one leg at a time" routine with the addition of some experimental testing of the ever surprising muscle with more pressure. Expanding the range, eying her Goddess's expression closely for any indication that she'd found those sweet spots, so to speak, and making adjustments accordingly. Should she do it harder if she brought her hands up...here, where there's more to work? Maybe go softer if she went lower...What about the sides? She would recall videos of masseurs pressing into certain points here and there with say, the thumbs, kicking herself mentally for not having remembered that earlier. The viewing of these videos were all the training she had in the matter, but hopefully it would be enough to help her here.

Yeah, Maria was trying to avoid getting her head crushed like a watermelon, but she was also taking pleasure in being able to touch her, still. But she'd made duty her focus.

[HotWheels]

Neith wouldn’t have called her skilled nor particularly gifted - only those with training would be when it came to a masseuse, or a particularly large pair of hands - but there was an intent in Maria’s massage. That intent might have been partially motivated by avoiding another squeeze like Neith’s first, but the motivation worked nonetheless. She sought to please the goddess. Her fingers searched here and there for what might best soothe the Egyptian on top. Neith, for her part, made sure that she didn’t show anything physically - a faint but still menacing smile, but nothing else. Only the pressure she applied with her legs. Let Maria interpret those.

When she touched a part of Neith’s legs that didn’t interest the Egyptian, she squeezed a touch tighter - enough to notice but not to indicate danger. When she found a particularly tight knot, the pressure would subside momentarily, becoming no more than a snug hug of the young woman’s face. To Neith, the hands meant little. Hands touched her well-honed figure all the time. But watching those eyes search for Neith’s approval? Knowing her mind would be searching for all the right answers to ensure her mistress did not squeeze her blind with one more tight headscissor? Those parts, she loved.

But the game had to end; no great session wrestler overstayed her welcome. She put a stop to the massage with a grasp of Maria’s hands, and the goddess gently and gracefully uncoiled herself from Maria’s head. She made sure to wipe the entirety of her crotch and humps over Maria’s face, a little parting kiss, as she scooted further onto the couch and all but released her.

Once there, she spun around, now the one on her back, and beckoned for Maria to come closer. “You seemed to like these,” she said, gesturing toward her abs. “Come lay your head in my lap and taste them again.” It was an offer, but if Maria was keeping up - offers from the goddess were to be claimed with caution.

[DSX93]

It was so weird. Neith was doing things to her that just didn't make any sense. Write up another for the list of the unexplainable: She was doing her damnedest to avoid having her skull reduced to powder, but those little squeezes she did when she happened upon some spots here and there...The first two almost scared her stiff, but then she started to clue in. Or at least, she believed that she was cluing in. And they would become a comfort to her in the strangest way. It didn't stop Maria from trying anyway, but garnering anything from her expression was working out to be impossible so far. But that? That was her sign. That was how she knew. When to move her hands to another spot, and when she was doing a good job.

That faint smile was all she had to see. It was the look of a higher being who held her life in her hands. Decided her future. The concept of time began to fade away, along with everything else in the world. As her mind settled into the routine, she started to relax. Just a little. She was even beginning to make a little game of it: How long could she go without getting squeezed?

Neith must have noticed it. She had to have noticed it. And she acted with perfect timing, like she just knew when she was getting a little too relaxed, right down to the millisecond. But Maria would not be so comfortable as to forget the threat this woman posed, not even for a second. When the Goddess reached for her hands, she didn't know if this was to punish, reward, or if she had some other machinations in mind.

So the young survivor defaulted to the one course of "action" that felt the safest. That made the most sense: She stilled herself again. Observed as much as she could. Neith continued to give her so little that she could use.

But her descent...!

Her eyes went wide as that divine fruit wiped over her face, with naught but that one scant layer between the two of them. Enough of her weight had borne down for Maria to know that was on purpose. But it was no reward. It was quick. Too, too, too quick! But it was no punishment, either.

This was yet another potent dose of the drug that is her very being. Cruel, teasing her with what she couldn't have. But they both knew that she'd crave more. And more wouldn't be far. Right there in crawling distance, laid out on the sexiest bear trap she's ever seen.

Neith called, and Maria would obey, asking as she made the crawl, "What would you have of me in exchange for the privilege, Goddess?"

[HawtWheels]

Neith watched Maria crawl with the lazy satisfaction of a cat.

The girl’s hesitation was delicious: the way her shoulders tensed, the flicker of wide eyes when Neith’s hips had dragged slow and deliberate across her face, leaving only the thin gold fabric and the promise of more. Neith felt the faint tremor that ran through Maria’s body even through the couch cushions, and it settled warm and low in her belly. Good. Fear and want were such a pretty combination when braided together.

She let Maria reach the edge of her thighs before she moved at all. One hand lifted, slow as incense curling, and settled atop the girl’s hair, not pushing, not pulling, just resting with the weight of ownership. The other hand traced idle circles over her own abs, nails glinting as they followed the deep grooves between muscle, drawing attention to the very thing Maria had been invited to worship.

"Exchange?" Neith echoed, voice a low, amused purr. "You think a goddess barters, little one?"

She let the silence stretch just long enough for Maria to feel how ridiculous the question was, then flexed her thighs once, slow and deliberate, the muscles rolling under smooth skin - a reminder of exactly what those legs could do if they closed again.

"No. You give because I allow you to give. You take because I decide you’ve earned it."

Neith’s fingers threaded deeper into Maria’s hair, guiding, not forcing, the girl’s cheek down until it rested against the warm, taut plane of her lower abs. The skin there was velvet over steel, rising and falling with each controlled breath. She could feel Maria’s exhale ghost across it.

"Start here," she murmured, tracing a lazy circle just above the waistband of her rose bikini bottom with one nail. "Slow. Worshipful. Show me how grateful you are that I didn’t crush your pretty face to unconsciousness when I had the chance."

Her thighs parted just enough to cradle Maria’s shoulders between them, not trapping, simply framing, a reminder that the scissor was only ever a flex away.