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Suletta is happy.
She is adjusting to life at Asticassia, making friends and succeeding in her schoolwork. The prototypes for Gund-Arm are progressing nicely. There have been only a few more duels, and she has won them all easily.
And best of all, Suletta has Miorine.
A thrill runs through Suletta at the thought of her bride. What began as a farce has turned into a fact for both of them. They spend most of their free time together in Miorine’s room in the chairman’s office, basking in the glow of the hydroponics lights and the joy of one another’s company, even though their Earth House friends tease them relentlessly for it.
Their nights are spent doing other things.
Suletta sighs contentedly. The two of them have had the chance to enact a number of the hentai scenes she remembers from Aerial’s media library, though Suletta regrets that there are some things they can’t try because she doesn’t possess tentacles. She bets Miorine would like that.
Life is going well for Suletta. Except for one thing.
She glances over at the other side of the bed, where Miorine’s face is bathed in the sterile light of her phone as she answers what she promises are just a few more emails before bed.
Miorine has been working longer and longer hours on the business, even late into the night like this, and Suletta is beginning to grow concerned.
The next evening, Suletta decides to surprise Miorine.
She slips into some new lingerie – a bodysuit made up of horizontal black stripes, the thin fabric showing glimpses of skin beneath. She knows how well it accentuates her body, and the thought of Miorine’s reaction turns her skin to fire. Surely Suletta can help her bride relax a little bit tonight.
The door opens, closes. “I’m back,” Miorine’s voice calls.
Suletta’s heart beats faster. “Welcome home,” she purrs. “Come to bed?”
Suletta luxuriates on the bed, arching her back and stretching out her long legs. Her hands drift up to cup her breasts, dreaming of her bride’s hands there, and her breathing quickens. At any moment, Miorine will come up the stairs to the little loft and find her there. Suletta’s erection strains at the crotch of the bodysuit.
Suletta’s heart drops when she hears Miorine say, “Sorry, I’ve got to take care of a few things. I’ll be up in a minute.”
Suletta glances over to see that Miorine is in front of her computer, typing away in front of the glaring screen.
Frowning slightly, Suletta rolls onto her belly and props herself up on her elbows, pressing her breasts together. This position is slightly difficult with the raging erection that she is currently sporting, but Suletta knows how much Miorine will appreciate the view of her ass through the mesh-like fabric of the bodysuit.
And yet still Mirione sits on the computer.
A few more minutes pass before Suletta loses patience and clears her throat loudly, causing Miorine to jump in her seat.
“Sorry, coming to bed now,” her bride calls, and the words are soon followed by the sound of her footsteps on the low stairs leading to the loft.
“Wow, you look good,” Miorine says when she sees Suletta in her lingerie, her eyes widening. But there are also dark bags beneath them, and exhaustion wins out as Miorine stifles a yawn. “Sorry darling, I’ve had a day full of meetings and I’m just so tired….”
Miorine discards her clothes and pulls on her pajamas, then crashes into bed next to Suletta. She is asleep almost before her head hits the pillow, her white hair fanned out around her.
Suletta leans over to push the hair out of her bride’s mouth, then turns over on her back and stares at the ceiling as the heat of desire drains slowly from her body. She wants Miorine to sleep soundly, of course she does, she just hoped there were other things they could do together before that. But her bride’s soft snores quash those hopes.
The bodysuit, which made Suletta so feel sexy earlier in the evening, now feels tawdry and too tight. Her erection slowly wilts. Suletta’s eye twitches slightly as she continues to stare at the ceiling.
“You’re going away again?” Suletta asks, her heart sinking.
“There’s a summit I can’t afford to miss,” Miorine says, tossing clothing into her suitcase. Catching sight of Suletta’s crestfallen face, she softens and lays a kiss on her groom’s cheek. “Water the tomatoes for me, yes? I’ll only be away for a week,” she says gently.
That’s about seven days longer than Suletta would like her to be gone. “It’s just…you only got back from your last trip a few days ago.” Suletta bites her lip, before asking the question that gnaws at the back of her mind. “You’re not going to leave me for Earth, right?”
Miorine snorts. “You idiot. I don’t want Earth, I’m happy with you.”
Suletta sighs with relief. She knows it’s the truth, because Miorine would never say such embarrassing things if they weren’t true.
“Don’t forget to email me three times a day,” Suletta says as she walks her bride to the car that will take her to the shuttle. “And don’t forget to eat! Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sometimes you skip when you’re working too hard and I’m not there to remind you.”
It isn’t the separation that worries Suletta most. It’s the fact that Miorine always seems a little thinner and paler each time she comes back from these trips. The stress of the work, not to mention capitulating to her lousy father, takes a toll on Miorine’s mental health, and lately she has given herself no breaks.
“What are you, my babysitter? I’ll be fine.” Miorine brushes one last kiss onto Suletta’s cheek, before she closes the door of the car, leaving Suletta standing there alone with the anticipatory ache of loneliness.
When Miorine returns, Suletta hopes things will be better. The two of them will spend more time together, she imagines, walking the long path to the greenhouse and talking about things other than Gund-Arm business. Not to mention having some excellent sex in Miorine’s king-sized bed.
But Suletta wakes the Saturday morning after Miorine’s return hoping for soft cuddles, perhaps a little conversation, only to find the bed empty once more. From the desk, she hears the sound of Miorine’s fingers on the keyboard.
Suletta peers over the railing separating the bedroom from the rest of the President’s office and sees Miorine, fully dressed, sitting at her computer once again.
Something snaps inside Suletta. She tosses off the covers and throws on her own clothing, and takes the steps two at a time as she walks toward Miorine.
Suletta is halfway down the stairs when she notices the black ribbon on the table, probably part of one of Miorine’s outfits, scattered amidst papers and notes. Without thinking about how exactly it fits in with her plan, Suletta snatches up the ribbon and stalks to the desk where her bride sits.
Suletta grabs the back of the chair and whirls it around so that Miorine is facing her. Miorine’s eyes are wide and her mouth hangs open, her hands still outstretched as if for a keyboard that isn’t there anymore. “Suletta what are you-”
“You need to rest,” Suletta says fiercely.
Miorine’s brow furrows. “What are you talking about? I do rest, I’ll have you know that I slept for five whole hours last night.”
“That’s not what I mean. You’re always answering emails or traveling or working,” Suletta says. “You barely even go to the greenhouse anymore, I have to water all the tomatoes myself to make sure they don’t wilt. You don’t eat unless I put food in front of you. You don’t even do your skincare routine anymore, and you always used to do that!”
Miorine is staring at her, but Suletta cannot stop. “I know you did it for me,” Suletta says, her voice breaking, “You founded Gund-Arm to save Aerial, but you’re working too much. You’ve got to put business aside sometimes and do the things you like.” Including me, Suletta adds silently.
“Suletta, stop being dramatic,” Miorine replies, turning her chair back to face the computer. “I’ll be done soon.”
But Suletta has had enough. She looks down at the black ribbon in her hands, and gears turn in her mind. She makes a grab for Miorine’s hands.
It is not a graceful process. It is one that involves a great deal of scuffling, swearing, and hastily-tied knots. When it is finished, both girls are on the floor, panting. Suletta is sitting on her butt with her legs stretched out in front of her, while Miorine kneels with her hands tied behind her back with the black ribbon.
“There,” Suletta pants triumphantly. “You can’t type like that.”
“Are you insane? How am I supposed to relax like this?!” Miorine shouts back. Her hair falls over her cheeks, and she can’t use her hands to brush it away. Her cheeks are flushed with anger and she struggles against the black ribbon that ties her hands, but Suletta’s knots hold strong.
“I’m not letting you loose until you promise you’ll only work seven hours a day,” Suletta says sternly.
“What?! Suletta, you’re acting strangely.”
“And you’re working yourself to the bone, Miorine. I can’t watch you do this to yourself, I care about you too much.”
Miorine’s expression softens. “Suletta,” she says gently, in the tones they use only with each other.
And that is when Suletta realizes the flush on Miorine’s face isn’t just from anger.
They’ve played with bondage before, of course, and Suletta knows how much Miorine loves it, but usually that’s in the midst of an already-heated scene. Now, though, electricity sparkles between them and the air suddenly feels charged. Fire flares under Suletta’s skin.
Tentatively, Suletta leans into the space between them, her lips parted. Miorine surges forward hungrily and kisses her.
When they break apart, Suletta looks at her bride thoughtfully. “I think,” she says slowly. “That I know how to distract you from work for a little while.”
Miorine opens her mouth to respond, but her words are quickly smothered by Suletta’s kiss.
With her hands tied, Miorine’s shoulders are thrown back and her breasts thrust out. Suletta’s hands skim over them, caressing and squeezing. Miorine moans into her mouth, and even through the fabric of the Asticassia school uniform, Suletta can feel her nipples harden. There was no time to take off Miorine’s clothes before all of this began and now her bound arms make that proposition logistically difficult. But, Suletta realizes, there’s something delicious about doing this mostly dressed in the uniforms they walk around Asticassia wearing, something that feels even more scandalous than being naked.
Brushing over the fabric of the uniform and the cup of Miorina’s bra, Suletta rolls both of Miorine’s breasts in her hands. She skims her thumbs over the painfully sensitive nipples, relishing the little whimpers Miorine is making deep in her throat. Suletta knows exactly where to touch her.
Suletta’s hands drift lower, to the apex of Miorine’s thighs. The two girls are still on the ground, Miorine on her knees, and she obediently opens her legs wider as Suletta’s hand slips along her tights.
Miorine’s eyes widen and a yelp passes her lips as Suletta squirms one hand through her shorts and across her dampened panties. It’s not a very good angle, but that’s what makes it so delicious.
Suletta supposes she could rip the fabric and plunge her hand in, but that would be less fun. Skimming her fingers along the outside of Miorine’s panties, Suletta can feel how swollen Miorine’s vulva is, how much her clit juts out. Suletta begins to rub more vigorously against the silk of Miorine’s panties, which are growing wetter by the second. Miorine tries to be quiet at first, her teeth digging into her lip, whimpers fighting past her lips. But her flush gives her away, as well as the way she lowers her head to hide her eyes behind her bangs. “Suletta…”
“Don’t move,” Suletta whispers back in the low tones of what Miorine calls pilot mode. Suletta does have to admit that it feels a bit like piloting Aerial - action and reaction, cause and effect. The trick to both, Suletta thinks, is to become so focused on what she’s doing that she forgets to feel nervous.
Obediently Miorine straightens, and Suletta curls an arm around her to hold her in place. “You won’t fall, I promise,” Suletta says. But you won’t come either, she adds silently. She keeps rubbing against the dampening silk just enough to keep Miorine on the edge, not enough to help her find release.
Eyes half-lidded, Miorine can only nod.
Suletta is well aware how hard she is, cock straining toward the wetness she can feel in Miorine’s panties, but she hasn’t forgotten what brought them here in the first place. Her hand cramps terribly, the angle necessary to rub across Miorine’s panties an awkward one, but she’s not about to stop. Not when her bride is moaning like that.
“If you want to come,” Suletta purrs. “You need to promise me some things first.”
“Y-yes,” Miorine’s voice is little more than a whisper. She has begun to move her hips, pushing against Suletta’s hand in a desperate bid for more stimulation.
“You’ll work no more than seven hours a day. You’ll go on walks with me every evening. You’ll eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You’ll take time off and maybe go on a vacation sometime.”
Miorine’s eyes fly open, and she jerks away from her groom. “Suletta, what are you saying? You’re being ridiculous. Besides,” she adds in a low voice, a peculiar fire in the silver depths of her eyes. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to go crazy.”
Susumeba futatsu is the mantra that Suletta lives her life by. Move forward, gain two. This also means continuing in the direction you have started on, rather than being knocked to the side. This little game they’ve devised is ridiculous, a release of pent-up heat more than an actual moment of critical relationship communication. And yet Suletta feels compelled to stay on the path she has charted.
So when Miorine says those words - you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to go crazy – Suletta smirks and says, “Fine. Then go crazy.”
And withdraws her fingers from Miorine’s shorts.
Miorine yelps and pitches forward; her arms are still tied behind her back and she cannot brace herself. Suletta catches her easily.
Miorine looks at her, puzzlement temporarily replacing desire. “Were you… worried about me?” Miorine asks. “Is that why you’re playing this whole silly game?”
“Yeah,” Suletta chokes, half-gasping and half-laughing. “And I miss spending time with you.
“I see,” Miorine says. “We should discuss all of this later, but for now suffice to say I accede to all of your terms. I’ll curtail my work schedule, I’ll go on those stupid walks with you, I’ll eat properly, and maybe I’ll schedule some time off. In the meantime, however, I want you to take me to that bed and fuck me until I cannot think of anything else.”
A grin spreads across Suletta’s face, and her cock throbs. She is almost painfully erect now, straining at the fabric of her own shorts. “Fine,” she replies. “But I’m not untying your hands.”
“I would never dream of asking,” Miorine replies as Suletta lifts her up in a princess carry to the bed in the loft. “Though I would ask you to tear off my clothes, please.”
Suletta is only too happy to do so once she lays Miorine on the bed, half-unbuttoning and half-tearing off Miorine’s blouse. The shorts are disposed of, and though the bra presents a greater obstacle, soon it too is vanquished.
Suletta’s erection springs free as she pulls her clothing off, and she reaches into the bedside drawer for a condom to roll down on it. After that reckless first time (which was followed by a few very stressful days until Miorine’s period arrived normally), the two of them have always been careful to use protection.
Suletta pushes into Miorine, where she is enfolded in hot, warm, velvet.
Miorine is so aroused that she tightens almost as soon as the cock fills her, a cue Suletta recognizes as the hint of impending orgasm. Miorine wraps her arms and legs around Suletta, her moans like music.
Suletta pulls back as she thrusts into Miorine, looking at her. Composed, lovely Miorine, top student in management strategy, daughter of the president, and token Asticassia ice queen, half-naked and filled with Suletta’s cock.
“I want you to feel good,” Suletta croons in her ear. “Like this. Let me help you relax, Miorine.”
Suletta slips her fingers between Miorine’s legs, playing with her neglected clit. Miorine always was delightfully easy to get off once she was riled up.
“Beautiful,” Suletta says, which always makes Miorine blush a little bit. Miorine has been called beautiful many times, but not like this. Not when she had lost control of herself, not in a moment of such utter vulnerability.
“My beautiful little slut,” Suletta whispers to her.
Miorine comes with a cry and a rush of fluid, and Suletta finds herself pushed over the edge as well, the blinding light of orgasm filling her vision.
Afterward they hold each other.
“I suppose I have been working a bit too much,” Miorine says archly, in a voice that makes it seem as though she thought of the idea herself. “Nika is a good project manager, and Martin makes sure the others behave. Everyone is working hard. And I’ve been making you water the tomatoes too much. Maybe…maybe we should go on a trip somewhere.”
Suletta looks at her in surprise, but Miorine simply blushes and looks away.
“I…I’m sorry I neglected you so much,” Miorine says awkwardly, unused to apologies.
Suletta shakes her head. “I was mostly worried about you. Every time you leave for a business trip you come back a little bit thinner.”
“I’ll work on that,” Miorine says, laying back. “Though if it leads to you doing things like that, maybe I shouldn’t.”
Suletta just sighs, and Miorine laughs.
“Do you have anything else to say for yourself?” Suletta asks.
“Yeah,” Miorine says, looking at her fondly. The sex flush is not quite gone from Miorine’s cheeks, and her hair is a little tousled, but she is still the most beautiful woman Suletta as ever seen. Her bride! Hers!
“I love you,” Miorine says simply.