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Tanthe meets Aire in a "bar"
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She blushes harder. "Thank you. Um." Tentatively, she pats the bed next to her. "Come sit down?"

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She wiggles over a little bit closer. Her shoulder bumps into Tanthe's.

Wow, her face is really close, isn't it? All Tanthe has to do is lean in. 

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Nervous nervous nervous.

She takes a moment to calm herself down, but not all the way. It's probably a good idea to be a little nervous, under the circumstances.

Then, slowly, warily, she leans in for a kiss.

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Aire is slow, and cautious, and lets Tanthe do most of the movement.

But oh, her lips feel so nice. 

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That is so much nice. That is a lot of nice. Oh goodness. How did things get to be this nice.

She focuses very hard on enjoying exactly what she is doing and not wanting anything more. It's not easy, but she has a lot of practice. If she really tries, she can just kiss Aire, and enjoy kissing Aire, and keep herself immersed in the moment and not imagine what else they could be doing besides kiss.

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Aire is very good at kissing. She can make make sure to impart just the right amount of pleasure to make Tanthe very keen to keep kissing her, while not so much that she becomes worried about her self control.

Of course, the longer they kiss, the harder it’s going to be for her to not imagine anything else, as Aire’s pheromones get to her. 

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Tanthe is remarkably stubborn about this sort of thing, and she has a lot of practice. She can - not exactly meditate, not fully, but do something similar, reorienting her attention in just the right way. When it works, it means that all her lust feeds back into enjoying the experience she's having, without pulling her out of it and turning her toward other possibilities.

At first she hardly ever slips. Then she slips once in a while, but not very often.

It takes about half an hour of slow soft closed-mouth kisses before she pulls back and says, uncertainly, her lips very pink and her eyes very bright, "...maybe time to be done now? I keep. Thinking about. Things." She is clearly very conflicted on the subject of it being time to be done.

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Oh, that look on her face is lovely.

“As long as they’re only thoughts, they can’t do any harm, right? You could keep kissing me a bit more and be perfectly safe."

And she's so beautiful, and she smells so nice, and obviously everything she says makes perfect sense.

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"...I'm not so sure..." she says doubtfully, staring at Aire's lips and remembering very vividly how good and soft they feel.

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"I'm still perfectly capable of stopping you if you try to go too far."

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She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths to settle herself. When she opens them again, though, she still can't seem to take them off of Aire.

The logic is sound. As long as she trusts her, which she does, right? It seems obvious that she should trust her. Aire has been nothing but helpful this whole time. People, generally, aren't bad; of all the many many minds she's read in passing, only a tiny handful of them ever really seemed to wish ill on others in a malicious way. Even when she's had to warn her father someone was trying to cheat him on a deal, those people were just looking to get ahead. And Aire made an honest promise that she wasn't going to betray Tanthe for material gain. Aire has been honest this whole time.

(There's a distant, elusive feeling that something might be missing from that picture, but when she tries to chase it down, she can't find anything, and she keeps getting distracted. This in itself should perhaps be something of a red flag, but the thought of calling a halt to things over nothing but a vague notion that she isn't managing to be cautious enough seems so silly, and so unlikely to involve kissing Aire.)

"...okay," she says softly, and kisses her again. This time she is just a tiny bit more adventurous, letting her mouth open just slightly to get a taste of Aire's lips, nothing so daring as actually letting anyone's tongue enter anyone's mouth.

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Aire matches Tanthe, her lips parted ever so slightly.  

And Aire can get small, tiny bits of her aphrodisiac saliva on her and Tanthe's lips. So little it'll barely have any effects.

Aire tastes as good as she smells. 

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Oh no, she does taste as good as she smells. Terrible. Whatever will Tanthe do.

 

The answer, to no one's surprise, turns out to be 'kiss her even more'.

 

She said, right, she said she could stop things if they went too far. She won't let Tanthe get too carried away. So it would be okay, if Tanthe wanted to touch her. Just a little, not even anything lewd, just putting her hands on Aire's shoulders, running her fingertips over Aire's face and neck, instead of keeping herself absolutely strictly confined to only practical contact. It would be okay. It will be okay. It's okay.

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And look, it's completely fine! Sure, touching Aire like that feels rather good for all that it isn't particularly lewd. Her skin is pleasant to the touch, soft and warm. And maybe that prompts some thoughts about what other parts of Aire might be nice to touch. But she isn't throwing herself at Aire at all. She's still in complete control of herself.

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With focus and determination, despite the significantly increased difficulty, she manages to go back to living entirely in the moment. She enjoys the feel of Aire's skin, the taste of her lips, her softness and warmth, and doesn't reach any farther than that. She experiences her arousal not as a desire but as a sensation, and a very pleasant one. It feels good to be kissing Aire like this, and it feels good to be turned on about it, and it doesn't have to be anything more than that, it doesn't have to be anything more than a slow sweet soft safe way to feel good.

She isn't even pushing on Aire's shields! She's been so good at that!

 

But it occurs to her, now that the thought of reading Aire's mind has come up, that last time she kissed someone she had very direct access to how they felt about it, and this time she doesn't so much. Aire doesn't look bored or impatient or unhappy, but sometimes people hide that sort of thing! She pulls away worriedly to ask, "You're having a good time too, right?"

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"I am! This is really nice."

She wraps an arm around Tanthe's middle and gives her a reassuring squeeze to punctuate her statement.

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Oh cozy! Tanthe smiles and leans into the embrace, wrapping her arms around Aire's shoulders in turn and giving her cheek a soft nuzzle.

"I'm glad," she says, and returns to kissing, this time from slightly closer. Even fully clothed, without any skin touching skin, there's something really nice about having Aire's arm around her. She happily incporporates that into her enjoyment-of-the-moment.

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Aire kisses Tanthe like that for a minute or so, and then gently reaches up with her other arm to wrap it around Tanthe's waist as well.

When this movement shifts her torso so it's facing in Tanthe's direction Tanthe can feel Aire's chest squish against hers, just a little. They're still not that close, she can only feel it at all because they're both rather well endowed. And really, it's barely any pressure at all. Surely it's nothing worth worrying about.

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The issue, it turns out, with keeping yourself firmly in the moment, is that when the moment contains nicer things than it did a minute ago, you don't always notice in time to reevaluate.

Instead of reacting consciously to this development, she just keeps kissing Aire, and reacts unconsciously instead: squirming a tiny bit, pressing closer, enjoying the sensation without worrying about what it means.

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And oh, what nice sensations they are.

Slowly, gradually, with each passing kiss the distance between Aire's lips increases. Her tongue darts out occasionally, carefully not touching Tanthe's lips, only ensuring that her little tastes of Aire feed her more and more aphrodisiac over time.

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Gradually, still without Tanthe even quite noticing, her hands start roaming a little more boldly over Aire's body. There are so many good places to touch. There is so much soft warm skin. Her hands don't understand abstractions like the difference between different regions of the body; her hands just know sensations, warmth and softness, cloth and skin. There's no moment of obvious distinction where she becomes aware that she's stroking the sides of Aire's breasts or gently squeezing her butt the same way she's been stroking her face or gently squeezing her shoulders.

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Aire's body is soft, and squishable, and warm. 

Aire keeps her hands where they are, and stays mostly still while Tanthe lightly gropes her. She wants to keep Tanthe in this half-aware state for as long as she can. There's the risk of her coming out of it quickly and being clearheaded enough to realize something of what's going on when she does, but with each passing second that becomes less likely.

 

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She does, eventually, gain a vague awareness that something is in some way off.

And she does, a little while after that, gently extricate herself from her self-imposed partial flow state to figure out what's up.

 

Unfortunately, as soon as she does that, all the thoughts she wasn't having because she was too busy feeling things crash down on her at once. She bites her lip to stifle a moan, shivering slightly, resting her forehead against Aire's.

"Um," she says, and stalls out there. What does she do. How does she do it. What does she do that isn't any of her body's three dozen very terrible suggestions.

Okay, baby steps. At home, in her familiar routine, how would she react to finding herself in this state?

She would go home and lock herself in her room and satisfy her body as best she can and then meditate back to equilibrium from there.

Well, home is very far away, and trying to run for several days straight through the Pink while feeling like this is not to be thought of. So, adapt to the situation you find yourself in.

Sending Aire out of the room so she can have privacy is—is—is no. Though maybe Aire will want to leave? (She clings a little tighter, purely on instinct, at the thought.) No, self, don't be like that, if Aire doesn't want to stick around for this that's okay. Just... explain, out loud, in words, with your face parts that are for making words, and see what Aire thinks.

Despite her instinctive denial of the idea, she stubbornly takes the time to ask herself the question: should Aire be here, while she—? The reason why Tanthe has never done this in front of another person before is pretty obvious, and, she must admit, most of the reason why she doesn't want Aire leaving is precisely because she wants so very badly for Aire to touch her more, in some ways that are safe but as many as several that are not.

But—Aire is safe. Right?

The words I will work very hard to make sure that you don't regret it echo in her thoughts. Aire said that. Aire said that and meant it.

So yes. Safe.

 

Tanthe clears her throat, aware that she's been blinking dazedly at Aire for more than a few seconds by now and should really say something.

"I'm—in a bit of a state," she admits, squirming slightly. "I, um. Normally if I was by myself I'd... do, some things, by myself, and then meditate away the rest? But. Um." She's blushing heavily, she just knows it. "I—don't have to be by myself. You could stay. You could even, um, hold me. If you wanted. But only if that sounds like fun!" she hastily emphasizes. "I wouldn't want to impose! And I wouldn't want—if it would be too hard, doing things like that when you can't have sex with me—I don't want to, um, make you have a hard time, or make you feel bad."

There. That was several entire coherent sentences. Mostly. Kind of. She hopes.

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Those were coherent sentences! Also rather exactly the ones Aire was hoping she'd hear, after Tanthe pulled away.

"Holding you while you take care of yourself sounds like a wonderful use of my time."

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"O-okay," she says, wobbly with the effort of defending herself against her own bad ideas. "Okay. Okay."

She starts taking off her clothes. Ever since she left home, clothes have been a kind of last-resort safety measure for her, a physical barrier between herself and the outside world. Taking them off is a very vulnerable thing, and she is deeply aware of every breath of air that touches her skin. Very unhelpfully, her libido seems to have decided that the vulnerable intimacy of getting naked in front of another person is really hot.

Underneath all the layers, she looks more or less as you'd expect, with three noticeable oddities: a purity tattoo on her belly, faint lines along her ribs that hint at gills, and a luminous tracery of silver swirling down her back that looks almost like it might be a magical tattoo of its own, except that it doesn't quite look right for any of them. The closest is definitely eye, though.

She piles all her clothes on the table, and then, hugging herself nervously, sits down on the bed again and nestles close to Aire for a few deep meditative breaths.

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