OOM:Remember When I was an Amazon?

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle is making a valiant attempt at organization, if only for distraction's sake. Connor's been gone and, well, she misses him a LOT.

Her closet had turned up with weird stuff in it again, but it is at least stuff she's mostly familiar with this time. She's going through the pile when she sees a familiar pair of worn bamboo canes. "Heh. I haven't thought of these in years," she says with a chuckle.

Once upon a time, the Æon Society found a culture that appeared to be based on the Amazons from ancient mythology. As you might expect, Annabelle got on with the female warriors quite well indeed.

She starts moving through the motions her body still remembers of one of their sword dances, the short bamboo sticks serving in place of swords.

Comments

[leadinghome]

"And unless they discovered some secret, well, they still needed men to keep the tribe existing." He smiles just a little bit with the cheesy joke. "And they taught you the dance, and probably hit on you a lot..."

"...or they were clueless too?" Because Connor is still of the opinion that someone who does not see Annabelle as the most attractive woman in the world, must be very clueless.

[aeons_crackshot]

The 'hit on you a lot' bit almost causes Annabelle to shake her head in denial, but then certain things rise to the surface of her memory. And certain gestures, certain body language, certain acts start to make a hell of a lot more sense with the benefits of hindsight and sobriety.

"Oh Lord," Annabelle replies, face turning red. "I, ah, didn't notice the hitting on me, apparently."

From both genders, and in what her more experienced mind is suggesting was multiple different combinations thereof.

[leadinghome]

That's not a smug grin.

Nope.

Not smug.

Well, maybe a bit, but mostly teasing.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle's blushing still, but she pokes him gently when she sees the look on his face. "In my defense, I was rather plastered at the time," she replies, dryly.

Then she teases him in turn. "It's probably a good thing I bucked tradition on that one."

Why yes, she does want him to ask what that means.

[leadinghome]

Connor just tilts head and raises a brow, still playing with his girlfriend's hair.

Expressive, too.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle smirks. "The dance is traditionally performed by a group of women at the same time, nude."

"Which may be why the young men watching seem to be torn between wanting to stand close and wanting to hide in the back of the crowd."

[leadinghome]

Excuse him while Connor's brain goes to its happy place, picturing a nude-dancing Annabelle.

Ah, right.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle chuckles low. "Mhm. Like that idea, do you?"

"Time to see how much of it I can remember, perhaps?"

[leadinghome]

"Hmm, maybe." He caresses her neck. "But that would mean moving." You have to understand, Connor doesn't feel like moving right now.

Or for a while.

[aeons_crackshot]

The caress of her neck results in happy Annabelle noise number 3. "Hm. That would be tragic."

She's not feeling keen on moving right now either.

[leadinghome]

Connor likes Happy Annabelle Noise #3: it's one of his ten favorite Happy Annabelle Noises. "And I also really missed you." A teasing wink, while his hands boldly move around...

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle chuckles, shifting slightly to help his hands find the best places. "I really missed you to."

Before Connor, she'd gotten on well enough being celibate for her entire life. Now, well, it's rather different going without, is all we're saying.

Her body is undoubtedly familiar to him by now: small but firm breasts, the curves of her waist and hips, the flat plane of her belly...

[leadinghome]

Very much, and he loves every bit of it.

Every bit. "Hmmm..."

Sexy. Hot. Call him biased towards the woman he loves if you will, but it's good biased at least? Or conviction...

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle is perfectly fine with his bias in her favor, even if she sometimes has trouble grappling with the why.

Flatterer. Her mental tone is teasing, but there's definitely a chord of desire underneath. Pondering something?

[leadinghome]

Just the truth. That's how he feels, after all. Pondering...

And acting upon it, with a few mental suggestions while he undresses his love: every bit of skin is kissed and caresses as it's exposed.

[aeons_crackshot]

He's going to hear quite a few of his Favorite Annabelle Noises as he kisses and caresses her. Chronologically, it hasn't been THAT long, but the desire he's waking is worthy of a much longer dry spell.

Even so, she's not going to let him have ALL the fun. Her clever hands and hungry kisses are giving pleasure as she eases him out of his clothes.

[leadinghome]

Connor... is highly unlikely to protest being undressed.

Pesky clothes, right? Good for nothing right now that he wishes to make love to his beautiful girlfriend.

[aeons_crackshot]

Pesky indeed. Good thing she's helping him get rid of them, no?

When the fabric is dealt with it's ever so much easier to caress, kiss, and tease him. By now, she's gotten good at driving him slowly out of his mind with pleasure.

That sensitive spot by his shoulder, the faint depressions between his vertebrae, on his neck near his ear...all places a stranger would miss.

But physical skill may pale in light of what he's picking up with the Package: the sweet and gentle warmth of true, deep love, the primal hunger of her desire focused entirely on him, the echoes of her pleasure at his touch sending delightful little ripples down his nerves....

[leadinghome]

Nah.

Everything else pales before the wonder of being open to that contact, of body and mind, to be with someone whom he can let in past his mental defenses. With Annabelle, he can put down his guard and just... be.

And make sweet love to her, until a perfect mutual release.

[aeons_crackshot]

Funny how the non-psychic feels very much the same about that, isn't it? She doesn't have to put up a front with him, be strong all the time.

The sex being really, really good is just the cherry on top. (Those poor, foolish women who didn't pay him any mind back home have no idea what they're missing. If they did....well, he'd be beating them off with a stick.)

She's sprawled across his body, relishing both the physical closeness and the afterglow. "Hmmmm." Looks like she's not quite back to being verbal yet...

[leadinghome]

"Hmmmm." He agrees.

Words are over-rated.

Deeply so.

And even more when you take into consideration how these two are so deeply connected.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle shifts a little for better Naked Cuddling. Being connected with him is....restful. Something in his quiet, contemplative nature makes it possible for her usual hyper-vigilance to take a nap.

For a little while, it's almost like she's never had what modern doctors would call post-traumatic stress disorder and her own time christened "shell shock".

[leadinghome]

Naked cuddling is the best cuddling.

Here, now, together, they're safe.

Safe.

[aeons_crackshot]

'Safe' isn't a feeling she's terribly familiar with. It got shredded when she was shot for the first time at the age of 12, and her life after that only stomped it further into the ground.

But....she can believe that it's true, for these precious moments. The moments when their hearts beat as one, their very selves mingle in ways human language has not yet invented the proper words to describe.

She's floating somewhere between asleep and awake, adrift in the sea of their selves. The feel of his body close like this is very nice though, nice enough for the embers of desire to begin, ever so slightly, to stir.

[leadinghome]

It's hard to describe, when you flash a 'grin' mentally. You see, it's open, clear, no possibility of misunderstandings.

Teasing, praise, excitement, and flattery all together. Already?

Of course, it's also clear how he feels pretty much the same, desire stirring.