Green Ruins & Shallow Blues
Book II: FRUITFUL
(C) 2023 Kyrinn S. Eis All Rights Reserved Worldwide
The minimalist beats of the Xemetic music played in surround atmospheric speakers. She had, for a while, used nerve induction 'trodes, but she preferred the acoustics of the irregular air space and the ambient occlusions of her living space; the sound's interplay with surfaces and voids of her possessions. Daisa sat meditatively upright in her chair; her stimulant/relaxant tea blend in a warm-hot mug, and its aromas perfumed in the air, each particle afloat in her perfectly temperature controlled heated room with humidifier. Daisa adjusted her jaw, licked her lips, smiled, and grooved to the repetitive beat and anticipated the changes. There was a rare extra sound; a dull 'click' which seemed random but, like Anethra's, Moons Dance, had a specific and beautifully mathematical periodicity which Daisa found both sensuous and clever, perhaps one-in-the-same. Now, the tempo increased and the tune changed into a sing-song, rainy season emulation, but in an urban environment, or so she imagined. Rainy season in the near jungle environs -- and outskirts city of the Xemet southlands -- her ideal getaway. Daisa opened her eyes to her curated home: her objects all arranged and everything as she liked it, -- save those which her teacher, -- Anethra had picked up, toyed with, and placed elsewhere as a test, as much as anything, of Daisa's flexibility. The two had a bet running that the Uldwnyerna would be able to find a 'chink' in her armour. Daisa had smiled at that, and then the two had kissed.
In truth they kissed that kiss again, perfectly crystallised in time, a crystalline moment insert -- implanted in her neck -- one of the few invasives she had paid for with her own money; top of the line NMC military-intelligence spec gear she had been privy to in her former military career. That was before her return to civil duty.
In that moment, the Khathaq woman's earthy spicy, musk was all that Daisa could had smelled and she, then and now, never wanted it to leave her nostrils. Anethra's lower quarters were increasingly spicier and earthy both; smokey and somehow grey-black-brown scented. Her black labia majora yielded to a pink of almost leathery maroon tint, but pink nonetheless, her, -- Anethra's labia minora were pinker, lighter still, and her clitoral mound was almost ivory, but still touched with a brownness unlike any Daisa had ever before seen. Her scent was clean and unsurprisingly pure, like her sweat. Anethra tasted like rainwater went down one's face, but sweeter, and spicier still. Daisa smiled at that. The pillow of her thighs which clasped Daisa's head like a softly bellowed device as her ministrations brought her instructor such pleasure that she arrived in squirts and was ashamed at how much control she had lost. Once Dasia had inserted her finger in Anethra's --
The intrusion of the alert chime sounded like a terrible insult in Daisa's ears. She rarely got angry, but this was approaching one of those times. Daisa rose, and set down her mug. She walked to the source and keyed her two simultaneous four-digit security strokes and unlocked her personal link to the Zhazonom mainframe:
