Title: You've Got the Love
Kaylen Maddox - March 24, 2011 07:33 PM (GMT)
It was getting late. The cattle that required her attention had been fed and brought in before she left, and someone was watching the barn, but it was still getting late. Perhaps she didn't have anything time-sensitive that needed to be done, but she would have to wake early in the morning to feed and milk the cows, and-
It was just getting late. She should have been home, at the ranch, but instead she was here-- in this place . . .
She was almost as tangled in the wild waves of her own hair as she was in the blanket around her. She wasn't even close to cold. Were she exposing more of herself to the cool air, she would have been- at least eventually- but for now she was almost too warm. The blanket served a different purpose than warming her already warm body. It was to conceal her, mostly . . . despite the fact that the reasoning behind that attempt was arguably flawed at this point. What she could gain from hiding herself was unknown to her, but she made the attempt anyway.
Perhaps she should have been leaving now, but she didn't seem to be in any hurry to move a muscle as she lie back against a pillow and stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the hair that threatened to obscure her vision. She felt tired . . . or perhaps just relaxed. Either way, she wasn't entirely certain that she was pleased or even content. She felt like she was lying on a cloud, but she wasn't convinced that the feeling was comfortable.
Taking a deep breath, Kaylen closed her eyes before reaching up with a slightly calloused hand to finally push some of her rebellious hair away from her face.
She would ask herself what she had been thinking once she found herself with a clear mind. For now she was almost afraid to attempt to think, knowing what the first thing to flood her thoughts would be. It was difficult to keep those thoughts at bay knowing where she was and who was nearby. . .
Charlize Lacroix - March 27, 2011 06:10 AM (GMT)
She had slept lightly, yet restlessly. That wasn't strange, generally; sleep was a luxury that Charlize enjoyed frugally and rarely with excessive indulgence. She was usually late to bed, and would often wake at the break of dawn. Long ago, such meager sleeping habits had been an annoyance but now she had learned to subsist on minimal sleep. In most ways, this was beneficial. It allowed her to be productive - and by that, Charlize was often able to productively entertain multiple clients in a day and then allow for a moment's respite to relax before turning in and preparing to do it all again the next day. Lather, rinse, repeat, as the saying went.
What had been surprising was how still her companion had been, all night in fact. Had she not known better, Charlize would have suspected the woman's death. A freak heart ailment, perhaps? Murmur brought on by stress? The woman had been a bundle of nerves the night before, alright. At least, she had been at first. Eventually, Charlize broke her - she'd crossed the moat and penetrated the castle, so to speak. In more ways than one. She always did.
The lovemaking had lasted most of the night, once Charlize had coaxed her client from her reluctance. Charlize was exhausted when they'd finally succumbed to slumber, her limbs aching and her loins ablaze. It was almost like the woman had never done anything like what had happened last night before. She'd caught on quickly, Charlize remembered with a slight, tired smile. Shaky hands had found purpose, resolve, even vigor - eventually. It was only a matter of time before both of their eyes were as good as rolled back. All she had needed was a little guidance, a little nurturing, a little patience. Charlize had been generous enough to provide both - to show her how to make love to a woman for real, like they did in the movies.
Memories of the night before disappeared as the formerly still form beside her rustled. Looking over a smooth shoulder, Charlize managed a sly smile in the woman's direction, her dark mane spilling across her backside like chocolate flowing from a pitcher. She rolled over slowly, resting her head on her hand as she faced the woman. Normally, Charlize would reach out and touch her client, to compliment them, to stroke their ego the way she'd stroked them in other ways hours (or minutes) earlier. At least, that's what she did with her male clients. Men - so desperate for approval and validation of their masculinity. Women were different. They were more complex. This one was nigh unreadable - but one didn't need a seer's foresight to see that she was consumed with nerves and inhibitions.
"Sleep well?" Charlize murmured softly, batting her large doe eyes with just the slightest hint of salaciousness. "I bet you needed a little recuperation after last night..." So she liked to tease. Who said she couldn't have a little fun at a desperately repressed individual's expense every now and again?
Kaylen Maddox - March 27, 2011 03:47 PM (GMT)
Kaylen could feel the bed shift lightly as the woman beside her slowly moved. Still, she wasn't able to adequately prepare herself before she heard the woman speak. The words made her tense visibly, her shoulders rising a fraction of an inch, but she didn't respond in any notable way aside from that-- not until she turned her head to force a small smile, an uncertain smile. Was she pleased? It seemed to her that she needed to at least seem pleased.
"Yeah," was her quiet, almost entirely neutral answer. As soon as it passed through her lips, her attempt at a smile faded.
Her eyes wandered just enough to find the other woman's lips, and as soon as she noticed, she turned to look up at the ceiling again. It was safer- perhaps less awkward.
"I should probably go . . ." she pointed out before cautiously moving to push herself up.
It was then that she realized how sore she was-- from a number of different activities, mind you. Her shoulders protested against the movement almost violently, but she still got herself to sit up. With the blanket over her falling to expose the length of her back, mostly covered by the thick waves and curls of her hair, she leaned forward slightly and rubbed at her eyes again with one hand. The other hand moved to lightly massage one of her shoulders, almost like a diagnostic movement rather than an attempt to ease the pain there.
This wasn't a good idea, coming here like this. . .
Still, she took a moment to prepare herself instead of bolting for the door. Clutching the blanket to her chest, she turned to see Charlize and force another smile. There was nothing that woman had done wrong. This wasn't like a drunken one night stand. It had been deliberate, and Charlize was beautiful- that wasn't the source of any shame. It was just . . . not right.
Yet Kaylen still wasn't sure if she wanted to regret it or not. She never had been fond of second-guessing herself or dwelling on the past. She had always taken some pride in being able to be shameless. That made life easier, and she could really have used a bit of a break at the moment.
Charlize Lacroix - March 27, 2011 09:38 PM (GMT)
If there had been any doubt as to Kaylen's unnerved state of mind, it disappeared in an instant when she opened her mouth and managed a flat, monosyllabic affirmative. The woman was incredibly nervous, but more than that - she was confused. That wasn't uncommon; on the contrary, a staggering majority of Charlize's clients expressed discomfort and shame in the light of the day after procuring her services. Charlize imagined that the fact that she was another woman also did nothing to ease Kaylen's discomfort. Charlize didn't take it personally; her perceptions of sex and sexuality were quite avant garde. Once upon a time long ago - before she'd ever come to this rock - she'd been European, after all. Moments like this reminded her just how evolved she actually was. Good thing too, because she probably wouldn't have been able to do what she did the way she did otherwise.
Charlize rose from the bed in all her naked glory, an olive-skinned goddess bathed in the tepid, pre-dawn light that seeped through the drawn curtains like a waning spotlight. She turned to face Kaylen and nodded with a soft smile as her companion verbalized her intentions to leave. Reality was calling, plucking Kaylen from the momentary reverie she'd allowed herself with her raven-haired paramour. That, or the woman just couldn't take the heat; Kaylen looked like she was ready to fly out of the room at any moment. Charlize knew this game well.
The statuesque beauty finally became aware of her nudity and retrieved a fine silken robe from its precarious resting place across the back of the stool at her vanity. Charlize threw the garment, a shock of deep purple, across her bare shoulders and cinched the sash tightly across her waist. Kaylen lingered by the bedside, hopelessly attempting to knead out discomfort in her well-muscled shoulder with a hand.
Charlize remembered what the woman's hands felt like upon her skin. Distinctly feminine, yet hard and calloused like a man's - alluding to a life of heartiness and fortitude. Strong. Seasoned. Kaylen's hands told the astute Charlize more about her client's nature than the guarded Kaylen herself provided. She was a woman of pronounced efficiency and capability, one who had learned to be adaptable and resilient - which made her current state of emotional turmoil a bit of a conundrum to Charlize. But in a certain way, she supposed it made sense. For someone so strong, Kaylen was still susceptible to all the matters of the heart - just like anyone else. That, like the seemingly ubiquitous dust storms that scoured Initium, was a fact that never changed, no matter where you went.
Deep brown eyes deepened in sympathy as Charlize crossed the room and took a seat on the bed next to Kaylen. She just needed a little perspective, was all.
"Here. Let me." Confident though she was, Charlize proceeded with caution so as to not agitate the other woman's hastily reconstructed psychological barrier. Graceful hands drifted up Kaylen's strong back, coming to rest at her shoulders. With a practiced dexterity, Charlize began to massage out the knots - and there were many. What exactly did this woman do? Moonlight as a pack mule?
An uncomfortable silence lingered in the room, one which Charlize felt her duty to terminate. "You don't need to feel ashamed about what we did last night, you know," she murmured, a crimson-lacquered thumb combating an especially persistent mass where shoulder met neck. "You'd be surprised how many women I... see. It's hardly uncommon." She licked her lips, trying to find the right words to keep from scaring off the finicky doe before her. "Sometimes I actually prefer women - to men, I mean. There's a certain beauty when two women make love. Il est très passionné. It's very passionate." Charlize paused again, fingers continuing their work at Kaylen's shoulders. "Everyone needs someone sometimes - especially here in this wasteland. You can hardly be expected to shoulder your own burdens by yourself all the time."
Kaylen Maddox - March 28, 2011 03:13 AM (GMT)
She had never intended to pay too much attention to Charlize before getting herself out and on her way, but her gaze wandered to the woman and briefly took in the entirety of her form before leaving to stare at the far wall. It was a difficult thing to resist, the subconscious urge to just look at her, and while Kaylen's lack of control in that respect frustrated her, she was willing to admit to herself that the view was undeniably appealing to anyone with eyes. She found Charlize to be a gorgeous woman, and she liked her well enough, after all. She just hated being with her whenever she stopped to think about it.
Yet even when she did think about it and was forced to confront the unpleasant thoughts that plagued her, she couldn't choose to hate Charlize for what had her feeling bothered. So, when the woman sat beside her, she didn't respond harshly. She didn't even respond in a delicate manner to inform the woman that while she wasn't doing anything wrong, she didn't want to be touched. Instead she let her hand fall away from her shoulder only to feel Charlize's creep up her back and press into the sore muscles there.
The touch seemed delicate at first, honestly comforting, though Kaylen responded by tensing up before she realized there was nothing overly painful or awkward to prepare for. Of course, then the woman got into honestly massaging the flesh beneath her fingers, and while that only made the pain there intensify, it was a good sort of hurt. Kaylen's eyes closed as her shoulders lowered and her strong hold on the blanket around her relaxed-- though not quite enough to reveal any more skin.
Her eyes snapped open when Charlize interrupted the silence. She was trying to be kind, Kaylen figured, but all she ended up thinking was the idea that this sort of service may very well have cost more than she had planned. Now, perhaps that was an unfair thing to focus on while someone was trying to have a conversation with her, but Kaylen didn't want to ignore the fact that the woman behind her was a prostitute and this was a sort of business arrangement. They weren't lovers, really. They weren't even friends. That seemingly intimate conversation-- it was just business.
"I don't have too many burdens," she insisted quietly, hanging her head a little and enjoying the massage for what it was. Charlize really was earning her money . . . "I can shoulder my own just fine. You don't . . . need to try to comfort me. I'm not so fragile, I just-"
She wanted to explain herself. She wanted to be casual about this, to acknowledge it for what it was and downplay whatever significance Charlize was trying to support, but she didn't know what this was for her. She didn't really know why she had been crazy enough to seek this-- whatever this was.
She sighed lightly, honestly enjoying what she was feeling. It wasn't every day that she got a half-decent massage to help with the consequences of her work habits.
"I've enjoyed your company . . . for what it's been," she decided somewhat awkwardly, still keeping her voice low. "That's all. I like to think I'm not too pathetic-- maybe just a little bored between milking cows and repairing fences."
Charlize Lacroix - March 31, 2011 04:05 AM (GMT)
Charlize was surprised to find that, in a way, she was relieved when Kaylen began to relax beneath her touch. It meant she was letting down her guard, relinquishing the armor, opening up. Last night had been much the same way. It had taken some time, a little patience, before Kaylen had relaxed enough for the two of them to spend the night together. She'd needed a little coaxing, a little encouragement... In many ways, Kaylen was like a baby learning to walk. Charlize understood that, probably better than anyone else. Kaylen needed her. She might not have seen that, but Charlize did. If this woman was ever going to have a life of her own with fulfillment and some modicum of happiness, she would need someone like Charlize to speak the truth to her.
"I don't think you're weak, or pathetic," Charlize smiled as her hands snaked down Kaylen's spine, engaging the tired vertebra. "Coming to enjoy the company of another for an evening doesn't make you boring or pathetic," she spoke with a chuckle, soft and lazy. "It makes you human. But I am glad to hear that you enjoyed your night. That means I did my job."
And on the subject of jobs, Charlize was intrigued to hear more about the nature of the work that Kaylen dabbled in. Judging by the fierce musculature of her body, her hands, and the intensity of her expression, the Frenchwoman assumed it was something that involved manual labor, and she had been correct.
"I like to think of myself as something of an . . . escape for people, if you will. I'm here to do exactly what you said. To save you from boredom. To fulfill your fantasies. To give you pleasure. And that, in turn, gives me pleasure." Her thumbs finished at the nape of the other woman's neck. With one final squeeze, Charlize released her. "I've found that most people tend to be a lot alike, at least where it counts. For all of our differences, we're quite similar. We all want the same things. Safety, comfort, happiness, love. It's just how we go about getting those things that makes us different."
Exhaling, Charlize leaned backwards across the bed, looking up at Kaylen. "But I suppose I shouldn't keep you any longer. You'll have to forgive me. I could ramble for days. Something tells me that's a quality we don't share," she teased gently with a slight wink.
Kaylen Maddox - April 11, 2011 07:43 PM (GMT)
Kaylen didn't want to think that she needed an escape. She had grown up on Earth. She had survived gang wars, been raised amongst resistance fighters and mercenaries. . . Hell, she had even been to some of the worst places in the Fringe. Why should she have needed to escape? Why should her fantasies have related to getting a woman into bed with her? Difficulties were her reality. They were her life. She wanted to thrive on such things, not run to a whore because she was some lonely, burdened, uptight thing that needed a break or a fling to stay amused.
Still, whatever fire that normally would have flared up within her at the idea that she was needy in any way found itself without much fuel this time around. It was difficult for Kaylen to get flustered with Charlize's hands on her. Hell, even when the woman's hands fell away from her, her voice continued to soothe. It was an unusual talent, but it was such a talent that Kaylen couldn't even hate the woman for possessing it and whatever power it gave Charlize over her.
Exhaling whatever tension she had stubbornly been clinging to, Kaylen turned slightly to look at Charlize reclining on the bed, giving her permission to leave . . . or ordering her to in some passive way that should have been good for business.
Pushing her hair back with one hand so her vision of the other woman wouldn't be obscured, she smiled lazily and said, "The only things I ramble about are guns and cows . . . and medicine. Thanks for the massage." It was polite to thank her, at least, but really, Kaylen knew she was stalling.
After a pause, she proceeded to slip out of the blanket around her and out of the bed. Bare and suddenly rather cold, she did her best not to gather her clothes like she was in some kind of rush, but she very deliberately covered up as much as she could as quickly as she could without seeming entirely unreasonable. Before she had finished dressing, however, she seemed to slow and pause again, holding her gray shirt in her hands.
She was thinking, wondering how she had come to be here, why she was still there, why she was going through all this trouble to respond this way and that . . . despite all the thoughts that had been going through her mind since she came to Charlize, she hadn't arrived at any solid answers.
More slowly, she tugged on her shirt before daring to look at Charlize again. " Would it offend you if I said I hope I don't meet you again under these circumstances?" she asked, honestly curious, before dropping her gaze to the bare toes peeking out beyond the legs of her pants.