Sunblade Ch. 01

She blinked at herself in the mirror, and sighed deeply, letting her hair fall down about her shoulders. She tossed the hair band onto the sink. Her very own big brown orbs sparkled back at her. A sudden fire took her; an emotion that she stifled whilst in the Dispatch Office, but now she was alone in her own bathroom.

Without breaking eye contact with her mirror-self, Ashlyn took her right hand from the sink and buried it into her skirts, pushing through the gap about her waist where her petticoat ended and her work-shirt began. She delved into the warmth of her undergarments, and ran an inquisitive finger along her bare opening. She was not surprised to find that her snatch was slick with the fluids of arousal.

"You are Ashlyn Armonde," she whispered to herself in the mirror, as she began swirling her middle finger around her clitoris, "you are rich, powerful, and you could have any man in the Wyrld if you wanted him..."

She gripped the sink with her left hand, teasing herself with the other. Her index and middle finger rubbed, flicked and pressed at her clit in a succession of methods, as the palm of her hand rested on her pubis. She was completely hairless and smooth, which excited Ashlyn all the more. She had read in one of her novellas, Stemming The Tide, that girls of Shokokami descent practised the art of removing all the hair between their legs, and it seemed that whore-mongering merchants and ravishing pirate lords alike absolutely adored this on a woman. In a particularly hot reading session a month or so back, Ashlyn had put the book down and made with haste to the bathroom to take all of her own hair off. At first she had missed her mousy brown fluff, but that was quickly displaced by a feeling of sexual liberation; she was no doubt smoother and sexier under her garments than any other woman on the estate, even the young immigrant girls in the kitchens, who were so often pawed over by the silk farmers.

Except Amaju. He had not fallen at the feet of the young fresh meat in the kitchens. He had wanted a woman, not a girl, and that is why he had come for her.

"...any man in the Wyrld..." she continued, between gasps of pleasure. A kaleidoscope of thoughts raced through her mind; she was being fucked from behind over the wheel of a pirate ship by a musclebound pirate, being bought for obscene amounts of gold to be a powerful merchant's mistress, she was going at it with both Bastille brothers at the same time, right there in the Southstone City charter board room, and finally, as her arousal crested and the pressure swelled behind her lightening fast fingers, she was being eaten out by Amaju, right here on the farm, in the silk stores...

She climaxed abruptly, and worked hard to stifle her orgasm, for fear that Gabriel would hear her.

For the whole self-love affair, she had not broken eye contact with herself. Her face was flushed with satisfaction; a healthy, radiant glow that she had come to know quite well (as it always came after she had climaxed). The only downside to the glow was that she found that it disappeared very quickly. With her breathing returning to normal pacing, she allowed herself to smile at her reflection in the mirror, which of course mimicked the action in return.

"Any man in the Wyrld, darling," she said to herself, this time with emboldened confidence.