"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! No-no one's 'ver made somethin' so nice for me before! Thank you!"
Deeply touched and somewhat embarrassed by the display of gratitude, Camille hugged the girl to her, fighting back the pang of guilt that flashed through her as her nose was buried in the girl's hair and she inhaled. The scent was so uniquely Kita that Camille could have found her in a crowd of thousands. Her eyes closed, she breathed in again. The ancient fragrance of jasmine wound around the core of vanilla from her body wash, blending with the musk and spice that was the perfume that was the natural flavor of her body. Over laying that was the smell of her shampoo, citrus scents.
Her slim body felt so good in her arms, the firm press of her small mounds, the sensations that vibrated through her breasts as the girl sobbed into her chest with happiness. For the thousandth time in recent weeks, Camille fought the swell of desire induced by the girl so trustingly nestled against her. Fought and won. A quick kiss on the crown of soft blonde hair and the woman steered her charge firmly to her seat, motioning her to sit down.
The two dug into their food, the woman displaying splendid dexterity with her pair of bamboo chopsticks, the girl making use of the serviceable fork and spoon she was given. Eager blue eyes constantly darted from the food she was almost inhaling, to the vision of the woman she was coming to worship eating calmly and precisely; dark, almond-shaped eyes studying her closely. For her part, Camille was struggling to not reach across the table and drag the girl's face to her crotch. If she didn't know from the medical tests that the girl was a complete innocent, she'd have sworn the little blonde was deliberately tempting her, the way her tongue came out and licked her spoon clean...
With a start, she realized her hand was halfway across the table, reaching towards Kita and she quickly changed the direction of her movement to grab the platter of vegetables. Something, she needed to say something to break the silence that had abruptly changed as Kita watched the motion of her hand.
"Ah, we'll have to go into the market tomorrow."
A solemn nod, those blue eyes never leaving her.
"Kita, I-we need to talk about you." Oh those eyes. "You never told me just what you're so afraid of or why-"
Out came that tongue again. Tracing lovingly across the back of the spoon. Those innocent eyes the color of a clear sky locked adoringly on her. Camille's vision went hazy with raw lust and she stood abruptly and cleared her throat, ignoring the confused look her charge was giving her.
"You should think about the sorts of things you'd like to wear, make a list and let me know tomorrow morning and we'll get some things for you."
With that, the dark-haired beauty strode from the room and locked her door, the heavy bolts sliding home with heavy 'thunks'. Eyes unfocused, seeing nothing before her but a pair of sinfully innocent eyes watching her lovingly as her synth-leather pants slid down her hips. It was not her hand that stroked nether lips already coated with the sheen of her arousal; it was the first sweep of a warm wet tongue. Eyes already narrowed to slits from the heat of her lust slid shut in ecstasy; in her fevered brain that long wriggling organ was sliding deep into her red-hot pussy. Pulsing in and out now as she thrust her hips towards that face just begging to be used, two clear eyes staring trustingly up at her. In the depths of her brain, an alarm went off as her implant silently informed her of a human in the hallway pressed against the door but before she could halt herself, a pert nose suddenly brushed her stiff, aching clit. Again. And again. And now the tongue was driving furiously into her while one hand grasped a handful of cornsilk to grind her clit against the sweet face below her. Teeth suddenly bared in a savage growl, Camille arched her back and moaned as her pussy became gloriously molten and she came, juices dripping down to overflow her thrusting fingers and pool at the crotch of pants that still tangled around her ankles.
Leaning against the cool steel of her door, Camille sighed and slid down till she felt the soft brush of the deep carpet in her room molding around her bare buttocks. It should have been inaudible through the heavy security plating behind her, but her enhanced hearing caught it anyways: the patter of bare feet moving away from the door and the knowledge that her audience had heard it all.