[ never let it be said that lune isn't a woman of her word.
instead of sending verso eight pictures, she sends just one: the night sky over their camp as a backdrop, her outstretched arm in the center with her fingers folded in as if to show off her nails. at first glance, there's nothing different about them—clean, trimmed, and slender. guitarist fingers.
but on the second glance, he might see the way the firelight catches at the sides of her fingers and nails; the way they shine wetly in the low light. unconventional for a sext, and maybe a little too subtle, but no one can say she's not creative. ]
[ definitely unconventional, and it takes verso a moment to see it -- at first he thinks it's just an artsy framing of her hand, beautiful as it is, as much as he's talked about how much he enjoys watching her play, as much as she's seen him watch her, his eyes fixed on the way her fingers play across the strings.
but then there's the shine, the wet glimmer, and ah.
subtle. and effective. he can feel his breath catching, when he realizes sees it, realizes it. ]
[ there's some time between his text and her next response, but it does eventually come in the form of another picture, this time on the lower half of her face, her bare shoulders and her rumpled uniform beneath them. she has her fingers on her mouth, her lower lip streaked with that same wet from the previous picture. ]
[ oh, god. verso stares at this one for some time, at her rumpled uniform and how it fells around her neck, her hair framing her face, her fingers against her own lips.
[ it wouldn't do if she couldn't manage a tasteful sort-of-nude or two after dragging his eight dick pics last time. it's a point of pride, or something. ]
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instead of sending verso eight pictures, she sends just one: the night sky over their camp as a backdrop, her outstretched arm in the center with her fingers folded in as if to show off her nails. at first glance, there's nothing different about them—clean, trimmed, and slender. guitarist fingers.
but on the second glance, he might see the way the firelight catches at the sides of her fingers and nails; the way they shine wetly in the low light. unconventional for a sext, and maybe a little too subtle, but no one can say she's not creative. ]
text
but then there's the shine, the wet glimmer, and ah.
subtle. and effective. he can feel his breath catching, when he realizes sees it, realizes it. ]
Lovely.
Just the one?
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would you let me make at least one request?
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Make your request.
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[ a few moments later, after realizing there is perhaps some ambiguity; ]
Your face, I mean.
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finally; ]
You're much better at this than I am.
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I had some practice.