STATION 72 ; mental link

[shri]

KALI She Who is the Great Destroyer ; She Who wears a Garland of Skulls	LAKSHMI She Who Believes in Truth ; She Who is the Mother
DRAUPADI She who was Born of Fire Sacrafice;	DURGA She Who is perpetually endeavouring to protect the weak and the poor and remove their misery.

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

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[shri]

[ She will never understand why they all loathe them so, but how could she - too this position she was raised, hidden and yet moving. The bare inches of skin revealed, touched, are a reward for closeness, not to be given to just anyone.

Save for when it was exactly decided. Exactly decided right now. As her clothes come loose, she arches. Moving in a slow push up by hip and the curve of her back. ]

Did I not tell you that I don't play those kinds of games?

[ A little different to last time, she doesn't move her hand from her hair, or drag her closer to kiss. Easy, to take, her hands sharp with her other hand, tug her to straddle her before her hands slides against the back of her thigh. The same as ever, she's open in her appreciation, demanding for that attention. That Annie have nothing else on her mind but this. ]

[sistershoggoth]

[ In what world does anyone give Lakshmi only half their attention? She commanded it, an orchestra of thunderstorms, every gesture an earthquake. It's fine. Annie doesn't have the sense to be frightened for her own safety and dives in to it, one hand in the woman's tangled hair and the other splayed into her chest. Thumb pressing into the grooves of the sternum and the webbing of her hand the cradle for a breast.

Annie's body aches, bones stark, feeling too close to the surface under her skin and prickling with a need to be touched. Not one at a time, all at once, everything shivers for pressure and heat all at once. It makes her arch low in her back, ass pressed back into the shape of Rani's grip, chest pressed forward where ribs and breasts hurt for contact. ]

Yeah, yeah, I hear you, you're dirty.

[ Not dirty as in indecent: dirty as in rough, dirty as in thorough. Annie smiles, a sloppy expression of hungry provocation. She drags and pulls at fabric with every squirm, making a twisted mess of all it, half on and half off. ]

( Dirty's fine. )

[ Better than fine. Dirty got her mind off things, and assuredly, in the end, got the job done. She pushes rough woven fabric and knots of hair off of Lakshmi's shoulder, leans in there to bite at the meat of it, licking kisses up the side of neck and jaw, rocking, squirming against her lap. ]

[shri]

[ She laughs - throatily and warm, pushing up against Annie - so strange to be in the often reversed position, to be the one to dictate and yank and pull and know it would be obeyed in unspoken order. For she gives as Annie wants and has ever given easily - the secret perhaps that she truly keeps is that nature.

Her fingers latch onto Annie's hips, dragging her further into her lap and press them heated and quick together. A challenge like it always is, exposing that heat curve of skin. Her head rolling back, arching up into her in a languid stretch that took in the same breath as she pressed them close as could be. ]

( Go on then, you know what you want. )

[ Bemused and raw, this isn't exactly her whole preference but since she joined the hive, it took off a need that came with a connected she did not want. Elena's lust, whether it be for Damon or blood, it pulsed ugly in her own mind.

Nothing she wanted to dwell on when she could have this - smooth as waterfall, heavy as the force it struck the ground with. Falling and falling, as the cloth fell off her skin, down her own body, exposing more to Annie. Her fingers working steady in her hold, drawing nails against the material covering her otherwise. ]

idk like.... especially nsfw

[sistershoggoth]

[ Annie is a ball of lust, and everyone she touches becomes another shimmering facet in her whirlwind. Nyx. November. Sam. Lakshmi. Shepard. Infection turned on its head, the virulence only growing stronger in her the more she opens up, the more she gives, the more she takes. Heat and provocation and wild, gleeful, irresponsibility. Just for a minute.

She does know, exactly what she wants. Something that involves dragging herself out of Lakshmi's grip, which feels all of impossible, her hair dripping down her face, her mouth lingering where it's wet and wretched. But she does know, what she wants, and what she came here for. The daydream that she's held onto since they got drunk and rolled around in the fucking dirt. She grabs the waist of the woman's trousers and yanks, tumbling herself to the floor in a kind of purposeful sprawl. The damn things have to get out of the way. Knees and thighs, also, also, also, need to get the fuck out of the way.

Hair too. In the goddamn way. She takes one Rani's hands and pushes it up the side of her face into her hair. ]

Hold that for me.

[ Make yourself useful, and make enough room for me here between your knees. A lurid pose that Annie finds familiar and comfortable. The feel of running her palms up the inside of strong thighs, familiar, comfortable. Burying her nose in into darkened skin and bush, comfortable, familiar, even intoxicating. She liked the boys just fine, but there was nothing quite a like a woman either. And not another one quite like Rani. Better make it good, and better not play around too much. You touch the way you wanna be touched and the queen has a firm hand.

She likes the way cunts and mouths fit together. The way their pliant, wet textures compliment one another. Likes the sensory of pressing tongue past lips, of the confined air and musk when the thighs on either side of her tense, press inward. Loves, loves, the immediacy of awareness here, the inevitable shuddering that will rattle her teeth. Loves rolling the swollen stud of the clit in the groove of her tongue.

What else could a girl need, maybe besides a few fingers between her own legs. Maybe some more wet smeared across her lips. ]