The Second Coming (Avatrice fic)
Chapter 7
Something in Beatrice ignites at the plea. A primal instinct she didn't know she had in her; an urgent need to satisfy Ava.
There's not much to think about, only to act.
Beatrice gets a firm grip on Ava's ass - her hands were already there anyway - and with a quick glance, hoping the halo bearer understands, she stands up.
"Ow, woah!" Ava exclaims taken aback. By reflex, she wraps her legs around Beatrice's hips and clings to her neck. The former nun's display of strength causes a fresh stream of wetness to slide down Ava's center.
It is not a long way from the living room to the bedroom, but this time Beatrice is particularly quick. She enters the room in a rush and with contrasting delicacy sets Ava down on the edge of the bed.
There, sitting on the soft mattress and momentarily removed from Beatrice's body, Ava realizes what is about to happen. All of her initial boldness flies from her body, leaving her unable to react.
By now Beatrice knows Ava too well. The halo bearer has a case of performance anxiety. Beatrice has no problem with that, in fact, now that she thinks about it, she's ironically the one with more experience between the two of them in the girl-on-girl department. Which means she has to take control of the situation. Putting aside her own shyness and insecurities, Beatrice steps back to give Ava a better view as she begins to unbutton her blouse.
Regardless of her momentary state of stun, Ava is not about to miss such a display. She remains still in her spot, watching the former nun's every move.
Beatrice drops her blouse, making sure to make eye contact with Ava. The way Ava stares at her gives her the courage she needs to continue her little strip show. Her pants soon follow. She gives Ava a few seconds to appreciate her form in her underwear before taking a few steps closer.
Ava exhales at the sudden proximity, mesmerized, waiting for Beatrice to tell her what to do.
Beatrice doesn't say anything, she just indicates with her eyes that Ava should take off her own clothes, which the Hallo-bearer promptly does.