[His question is serious, and though Kiritsubo smiles to hear it, her movements still tinged with the sensual flirtations that seemed to come so naturally... her answer is just as weighted.]
... Mmm, it can be.
[He's the first one to ask, here. Perhaps she should have expected that a unicorn would be more versed in the potentials of magic, but it is still a bit of a pleasant surprise after so many lovers who simply took her tattoos for colorful works of art. Which they were, of course, but atop of that... there was much, much more to every stroke of ink that had left its mark upon her skin. She had been plying the trade of a tattooist for centuries, like her mother before her, fulfilling the desires and needs of the inhabitants of the spirit world for power, for healing, for comfort, for sealing... and for herself, in the process. Each one could do, would do, or was already doing something.
But though there might be the fleeting sensation of worn leather and cold steel, so faint that he might think it just his imagination... the only thing real is the eager shiver that travels down her spine to the trace of his thick fingers. Rather than leaving his skin cut... her thighs part slightly in unconscious desire for him to keep going, to pass the point of the blade and over the sign of the navagraha at the cleft of her ass, and then turn inwards to caress over the soft folds of her cunt, but first-
Her carefully chosen emerald eyes flit over the charming pale of his hair, and though her hand rises... she only vaguely mimes the gesture of a soft stroke through the silky strands, her fingertips far enough away that only the slight displacement of air occurs, not the taboo of handling.]
Now that's a shame, when it's so lovely... but I understand.
[Her fingers land upon his cheek instead, tracing the silver lines of his own ink until she can find his jaw and tempt him closer with a curl of her fingers that lands her touch just under the tip of his chin, urging him just slightly this way, just a bit up... so that she could lean in, so close now that their lips would brush together with each slow, husky syllable.]
Do a unicorn's kisses need special invitation... ?
no subject
... Mmm, it can be.
[He's the first one to ask, here. Perhaps she should have expected that a unicorn would be more versed in the potentials of magic, but it is still a bit of a pleasant surprise after so many lovers who simply took her tattoos for colorful works of art. Which they were, of course, but atop of that... there was much, much more to every stroke of ink that had left its mark upon her skin. She had been plying the trade of a tattooist for centuries, like her mother before her, fulfilling the desires and needs of the inhabitants of the spirit world for power, for healing, for comfort, for sealing... and for herself, in the process. Each one could do, would do, or was already doing something.
But though there might be the fleeting sensation of worn leather and cold steel, so faint that he might think it just his imagination... the only thing real is the eager shiver that travels down her spine to the trace of his thick fingers. Rather than leaving his skin cut... her thighs part slightly in unconscious desire for him to keep going, to pass the point of the blade and over the sign of the navagraha at the cleft of her ass, and then turn inwards to caress over the soft folds of her cunt, but first-
Her carefully chosen emerald eyes flit over the charming pale of his hair, and though her hand rises... she only vaguely mimes the gesture of a soft stroke through the silky strands, her fingertips far enough away that only the slight displacement of air occurs, not the taboo of handling.]
Now that's a shame, when it's so lovely... but I understand.
[Her fingers land upon his cheek instead, tracing the silver lines of his own ink until she can find his jaw and tempt him closer with a curl of her fingers that lands her touch just under the tip of his chin, urging him just slightly this way, just a bit up... so that she could lean in, so close now that their lips would brush together with each slow, husky syllable.]
Do a unicorn's kisses need special invitation... ?