Day 27 - FWB/Yoga - Tomb Raider

The closest thing mankind had to a loving god taught yoga a few miles outside of Portland, Oregon.

Sometimes, Lara’s work could become tiresomely formulaic. You would certainly think that of every human being in the world, hers would be the day-to-day profession with the least predictability. You would also, at least some of the time, be wrong. The usual cycle - showing up, disturbing the ancient ruins, and having to face down the ancient evil within - was the vast minority. But even the vast minority, on a long enough time frame, became dull. In much the same way that a romantic, elaborate date to a fancy restaurant could become tiresome if it was always the same date, same restaurant, same order.

But there were small changes that could happen with that part of the work. Sometimes, somebody came with her. Sometimes they stabbed her in the back. Sometimes the countdown to them stabbing her in the back even wasn’t glowing above their head in big block capitals. Sometimes she went somewhere and nothing woke up, or the abandoned ruins turned out to have been looted several thousand times over the years before some European ‘discovered’ them. On those occasions, as much as she could appreciate the lack of danger and the savings she could take home on bullets, she did wind up essentially taking an overdressed vacation. These were both rare, positive exceptions to the usual flow.

Most rarely, she would go and awaken something that didn’t need shooting at.

At some point, long enough ago that nobody - least of all herself - could tell anybody, Vasundhara had simply forgotten to die when she was supposed to. The way she had increasingly liked to phrase it was that she was simply too clumsy to correctly perform mortality. She likely misplaced it, perhaps she had dropped it.

From how she told the actual series of events, Vasundhara had fallen asleep one night with an absolutely terrible headache, then woken up again some matter of days later on the rivershore lying in a soaked, filthy burial gown. Whatever had been meant to kill her had instead placed her into a coma so deep and so convincing that she had been taken for dead and placed in the water as part of her people’s custom of burial. When she had washed downstream and flopped up against the bank some hours or days later, she had proceeded to sleep off what had likely been a pretty serious stroke and embolism. At the time, she had thought it a miracle that she hadn’t drowned in her sleep. Though on further reflection, with a couple of other incidents to her name, she realized that she probably wouldn’t have been killed any more meaningfully by the drowning than the stroke.

Returning to her village afterward had certainly been awkward. Vasundhara, as she explained it, had been welcomed warmly. At least, mostly warmly. Her former husband - still current in her mind - had remarried shockingly quickly. It was easy to explain Vasundhara’s resurrection as a simple mistake, and her former husband’s quick betrothal as legitimization of a long-running infidelity, though neither the husband nor Vasundhara were happy about either of the respective events. Nevertheless, while some held onto superstitions of witchery, most were happy to have her back. And when one of the superstitious poisoned her a few weeks later - causing Vasundhara to wake up on the banks again after a particularly urgent nap - the poisoner was dead before she was even back. Though, at that point, it certainly became clear that Vasundhara needed somewhere else to live.

“It was a miracle that they did not stone me, burn me, or behead me.” Vasundhara had once commented about the response to her second miracle. “Even if it were possible to recover from such things, I do not wish to learn what doing so would feel like.”

And, in essence, that was the long and short of how Lara had come to find her in a concealed temple out somewhere along the Godavari river. She’d put together a small hovel that she used as sort of a middle-point as she rotated between nearby villages on an infrequent basis. Existing almost in a sort of cyclical trance. Coming down to a surrounding village and living there a few years, enjoying her eternal prime of life with the kind of hollow detachment for whom nothing would ever come as a true surprise. Then leaving again after some time, heading off to another village after a cooldown of a month or two in the temple, sometimes faking her own ****, sometimes not. Any wisdoms or teachings she’d picked up along the way often went ignored, any impact she had on people usually quickly forgotten. Because she was, plainly, the most dull and mundane of miracles. She revealed nothing about the supernatural by just existing, she had no great teaching to bestow, and no interest in exploiting her gifts to dominate others. She had simply been, at some point, touched by the spectacular and then returned to normal function.

Of course, there was a chance she was also lying about all of this, but it was too mundane to really lie about. Lara had also seen her die and come back, but she’d seen plenty of people die and come back, so she didn’t put much stock in that.

When Lara met her, Vasundhara was in a reclusive phase for reasons she’d never gone into. Having spent about a dozen years on her own in a temple half-turned to rubble despite her own eternal youth. She had been standoffish, increasingly bitter and uninterested in humanity. She spoke Odia, Telugu, and Hindi, but it had been hard to get a word in any language out of her. Perhaps the world she was waiting to see was still not here yet. Perhaps she had missed it. Perhaps it would never come. Regardless, when Lara brought her out of the mountains finally and got her to visit the manor, it had seemed to hearten her after a while. She had taken to English well, taken to modern niceties better, and eventually taken to Lara about as well as she was willing to take to somebody she would outlive. When she had inevitably asked Lara what part of the world it would be best for her to go to, which remained small and largely secluded but would also give her access to the niceties and progress of the world at large, Lara had given her a pretty short list of destinations.

It had been a few years since then, and Lara was excited to see her again, even if it meant going to Portland.

If one has not been, it is likely impossible to fully explain the city. In fact, there are fundamental evils which must first be grappled with before one is ready for the concept of even a ‘Seattle’. It is a land of such lush greens and foggy grays that the air itself seems of a more bitter, primal ilk than those elsewhere. Some purer and more feral kind of atmosphere hangs about the region. Carrying simultaneously both the most pronounced defects and attractive features of nature. Trees hug close at all times, even in the cities. Like one is surrounded by some bastard skyline which demarcates eternally some raw edge of the world of man. That which cracks and turns to dust elsewhere turns slowly here to rotting mush. It is a climate of the all-wet and all-crawling. A sovereignty of the buzzing. Places which do not respect man’s presence, but tolerate it.

And there in the center of this sits a series of cities, like millions of log cabins set in the woods on splintered foundations, filled with people bred on both fundamental mistrust and the necessity of mutual aid. A sprinkling of neuroses scattered onto those basic tribalisms which already motivate reclusiveness. Perpetually overcast and so deeply committed to their own superiority complexes that migration is akin to madness. North of California, loathsome of it. An entire coast of a great continent reserved for the inbred squabbles of three unkind families. Each wishes to see the other destroyed, and when some great earthquake finally swallows the lot, it is Portland’s watery remains who will be the most indecipherable, and the most treacherous. King of the three only in being the most deformed, the most pure of a mutation.

Vasundhara let out her class and waited by the door for a minute as Lara glanced up at the leaving students. A few of them made gestures or mouthed words her way, but she kept her sunglasses pushed up - not that it made her look less like Lara Croft - and kept her face buried in her travel journal. When the room was finally empty, Vasundhara invited her in.

Currently, she was teaching out of a studio room connected to her house. Teaching a couple different smaller classes. She had done well for herself, though Lara had given her a bit of an initial launch pad. The whole of one wall was a large window looking out on the misty forest, most of the floor had this sort of faux-wood spring to it, and she spent enough on beads and incense that she probably seemed pretty reputable as a yoga instructor.

She also hadn’t aged a day - obviously. Looking like a far better-groomed version of the woman Lara had met in the temple. Almond-colored skin and soft, feminine features. Nearly body-length black hair that she seemed to be spending a fortune on keeping care of. A decent, ever-so-slightly pudgy build. Her hazel eyes had a sort of soft unfocused-ness to them. She was also, in no uncertain terms, dressing like a slut by her own consideration.

“Hara, darling,” Lara finally spoke after settling into the same position on her own mat. “What in god’s name are you wearing?”

“Do you like it?” Vasundhara held up her arms. She was wearing yoga pants that seemed like they were a size too small as well as a belly dancer-like crop-top. Hara was not lacking in the chest department, but between all the gold bangles and beads, she was also pushing her tits up so high that it looked like she had a pair of bowling balls stuffed inside.

“It makes an impression,” Lara conceded. “It just can’t be the best thing to teach yoga in.”

“Ah, but there’s the trick,” Vasundhara leaned forward. “It’s not impossible to do yoga in, and this class has several very attractive students.”

“Isn’t there something of an ethical concern hooking up with your students?” Lara frowned.

“They are adults, Lara.” Hara gave her a slightly amused look. “To stare or not to stare at my fantastic body is their personal choice.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” Lara sighed.

“And I must protest, while you warned me about modern food, you did not warn me about modern sex.” Vasundhara added excitedly.

“Yes, well,” Lara changed the subject. “How are you adjusting to the food?”

“I have bad days,” Hara grimaced. “Even a lot of the plain food here is sweeter than the deserts from when I was growing up.”

“Yes, that’s worse in America than elsewhere, but it’ll be a problem wherever you go.” Lara leaned back. Lotus took its toll on her back, especially after a few mishaps over the years involving hard falls and bad landings.

“I miss many foods…” Hara frowned. “Though some of them in a way more permanent than others. It’s not enough that I miss a certain kind of curry, I miss how Sikandar made it, and he’s been dead longer than this country has been around.”

“I can somewhat relate to you there,” Lara closed her eyes, “There was this fairly trashy place that my parents and I used to eat. Their fish and chips weren’t even particularly good, but the taste of them is now forever tied to being with both parents. And since a few years ago, it’s gone.”

“Ah…” Vasundhara closed her eyes as well and took a long, slow breath. “If only the world could be so still as I.”

“It’s not all bad,” Lara opened her eyes again. “Certain things are far more exciting because they’re fleeting.”

“Oh yes,” Vasundhara opened her eyes and sat forward suddenly. “Like the sex, you really should have warned me about the sex.”

“I’ll admit it didn’t cross my mind,” Lara admitted sheepishly. It had, but she had figured broaching gender and sexual politics with a several-hundred year old woman was beyond her pay grade.

“The men and the women both,” Vasundhara continued excitedly. “Them and their wonderful toys. In my first marriage, I think I only ever had two or three orgasms. Nowadays, any sex that doesn’t involve double that amount, I walk away disappointed.”

“You certainly have an impressive libido.” Lara would never admit it, but Hara’s near-hypersexuality had been one of the big reasons she wasn’t broken up to see her move out of the mansion.

“Do you know how delightful it is to live in a world that allows me to express my libido as much as I desire?” Hara rubbed her hands together. “There have been days where it feels like I’ve woken up to a new sense I’ve never explored before. I think I’m addicted.”

“And it hasn’t caused any problems?” Lara probed gently.

“Not so far,” Hara looked at her quizzically. “You know I refuse to be the other woman to a married man.”

“Right, but are people alright with there not being a relationship involved?”

“Oh, that is in part what this is for,” Hara gestured at her outfit. “The best way to engage with Americans as an outsider is to appear somewhat mystical. Almost like a cartoon version of your culture. It is the same thing as an Indian restaurant covering every wall with a jali lattice. Authentic, to them, means different. To them, the parts of you which are like them are the performance.”

“That seems a bit cynical,” Lara frowned, “But I think I get what you mean.”

“I’m sure you do,” Hara sat back, mimicking Lara’s pose. “Don’t they get more comfortable when you call them ‘govenah’ and ‘bloke’?”

“Hara, I don’t think I’ve ever called anybody governor in my life.” Lara looked at her, unsure if she was joking. “And bloke is much more Australian than it is British.”

“Oh, whatever,” Hara waved her off. “I’m an American now, both islands talk funny and use the wrong measurements to me.”

“I’m glad to see you’re adjusting well,” Lara said with a smirk.

“Oh yes, this place is perfect.” Hara smiled broadly. “The people are all very private, borderline unfriendly. But they are also quite warm and welcoming if you get to know them.”

“That hasn’t been my experience, but I’ve never stuck around.” Lara shrugged.

“Yes, always on the move, like me.” Hara frowned. “I’m not looking forward to having to move.”

“I thought the reason you picked the area and learned how to teach yoga was so you wouldn’t have to move?” Lara frowned back. “A low-interest job that let you keep to yourself in an area without many people.”

“Yes, and it’s perfect for that,” Hara’s frown deepened. “But you cannot hold a lease in the same place for longer than a hundred or so years without running into trouble. And even in the few years I have been here, I already have some long-term clients asking me how I manage to look the exact same as I did the day we met.”

“Ah,” Lara sighed. “I suppose that would be a problem.”

“Yes,” Hara nodded. “And eventually my telling them that I’m not the same - my hair has gotten longer - will stop being a funny joke and start breeding resentment.”

“Have you given any thought to where you’ll go next?” Lara asked softly.

“I don’t even want to think about it until I absolutely have to,” Hara grumbled. “But I will probably stay in the general area. Perhaps across the border to Washington. Though I will have to deal with the dirty looks for being an Oregon transplant for a while.”

“I’m not sure I understand interstate rivalry,” Lara shrugged.

“Lara, I once saw you punch a man for calling you an ‘Essex Girl’.” Hara gave her a smug look.

“That’s different,” Lara frowned. “That’s very different. He called me the equivalent of a slut.”

“Girls from Essex have that kind of reputation?” Hara added to the smug by raising her eyebrow.

“No, it’s a slang thing… not a rivalry thing…” Lara started and stopped before giving up. She leaned back a little more and winced

“What’s the matter?” Hara leaned forward. “Do we need to get out the actual chairs?”

“Lotus is a little hard on my back lately,” Lara leaned forward, seeing if it would release some of the tension. It didn’t. “I took a pretty hard fall a few missions ago on my tailbone, then twisted my back while landing on another one. Then… honestly, I haven’t had a mission in a few months where something didn’t hurt afterward.”

“Doctor any help?” Hara stood up and went to get the ‘actual chairs’. When Lara saw they were bean bag chairs, she decided staying in lotus would probably be better.

“No damage,” Lara stood up and tried to stretch. “I can stuff myself full of painkillers if I want, but I’m not a pill person.”

“Perhaps being a yoga person could help,” Vasundhara gave her a smirk.

“Tempting as that is, the last time I did yoga with you, you spent nearly half of the session groping me.” Lara gave her a smirk back.

“I was just learning then, very inexperienced.” Hara didn’t back down. Lara had made a mistake trying to embarrass somebody like her. “I could spend much longer groping you now. And in new positions.”

“Perhaps some light stretching without the groping?” Lara pushed her knuckles into her back.

“No groping?” Hara swooped in behind her and pressed the palm of her hand very softly between Lara’s shoulder blades. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Setting her other hand on Lara’s stomach and making her suck in, Hara had Lara lift her arms up into the air, feeling how that made her wobble. Then she had Lara bend over forward, which Lara couldn’t quite do all the way. Hara rubbed her back softly as she did.

“You really can’t touch your toes?” Hara asked in concern. “You’re usually quite flexible.”

“I probably can,” Lara exhaled a slow, shaky breath. “But I’d rather not start crying in your studio.”

“You wouldn’t be the first.” Hara stepped over toward a closet with a tye-dye blanket draped over it. After rummaging for a second, she came back with a magic wand massager.

“Hara,” Lara sighed. “I said-”

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” Hara poked Lara’s forehead. “I’m going to use this for its manufacturer-intended purpose, thank you very much.”

“For once,” Lara added.

“That is none of your concern,” Hara plugged it into the wall.

She guided Lara down to her knees, then helped her lean forward until her forehead was on the floor and her arms were reaching out. Lara heard the magic wand switch on with an intimidatingly powerful hum - she never understood how a human was supposed to masturbate with something whose lowest speed was kill - and felt it press between her shoulder blades a second later.

“Tell me when I find where it hurts,” Hara spoke softly, setting her other hand on the small of Lara’s back.

“You’re going to need a bigger massager,” Lara mumbled.

“Not sure I have one,” Hara mused as she moved the massager slowly down Lara’s spine. “More powerful, certainly.”

Tracing down her spine to the small of her back, Lara gave her a sound of confirmation. Hara then orbited the massager head out in a slow spiral until Lara gave a loud groan. For a moment, all of the tense pain in her back went away. Hara found the spot again and pressed the massager into it. The pain did eventually come back, but Hara’s machine was doing a lot to dull it.

“Now, slowly arch your back and push your butt down toward your feet.” Hara instructed, her voice a little too amused to be actually professional. “Round like a stone.”

As Lara did it, her back started to tighten up again, the stiffness moving. Hara’s gun followed it with a little start-and-stop help from Lara’s sounds of distress and confirmation. When Lara finally managed to get into the pose, the pain had radiated to a spot just to the right of her spine in the small of her back. Hara turned the massage gun up for a second and ground it in, then pulled it away. The pain seemed to have mostly faded to a dull thud.

“That’s not bad,” Lara commented, then frowned. “Hara, there’s no pain there.”

“There isn’t?” Hara looked up from where she had been pressing the massage gun against one of Lara’s butt cheeks. “I must have misheard you.”

“I never said anything to mishear,” Lara muttered.

“No matter, your ass behaves in very entertaining ways when I do this.” Hara shrugged, putting the magic wand back. “You should wear yoga pants more often. You have a tremendous body.”

“I did ask for no groping.” Lara looked back at her. “Does this establishment offer that?”

“We do our best,” Hara commented mildly.

“You know, we lived together for over two years without hooking up.” Lara straightened up, wincing slightly. “I don’t know that a couple of… trysts… suddenly gives you permission to treat me like a slab of meat.”

“Perhaps, but it is a difficult genie to put back in the bottle.” Vasundhara turned off the massager and scooted a little closer. She took one of Lara’s hands and traced the veins on the back of her knuckles with a fingertip, then moved up her arm. Lara could feel herself breaking out in goosebumps just like Hara could see her doing it. “And I don’t think you’d have bothered renewing your passport just to ask me questions you could have asked me over text.”

“I have other things I’m here for too,” Lara blurted, immediately wishing she hadn’t.

“You wound me,” Hara gave her a look that was not particularly wounded. “Now we definitely don’t do no groping.”

“I’m very happy to see you, Hara,” Lara tried to correct. “But please don’t assume that I came all the way out here for a booty call.”

“But a booty call could certainly improve the trip.” Hara turned Lara’s hand over and started to trace the lines of her palm.

“I don’t like to think of you as a booty call,” Lara said softly. “I do consider you a friend, you know.”

“A friend you occasionally have sex with.” Hara looked at her with a sort of smug intensity that made Lara squirm a little. “The best kind of friend.”

“Look, I just-” Lara started, then her mouth opened and closed through a wince, she grabbed at her hip.

“Right, lay back.” Hara grabbed the massage wand again.

Lara laid down on her back, scooting her legs out from under her with a wince. Hara turned the massager back on and pressed it into Lara’s side softly, moving it down until it was over her hip. Then she lifted Lara’s leg, first halfway up and then all the way up, keeping the gun pressed into Lara’s hip until Lara gave a grunt of confirmation. Hara raised and lowered the leg a few times, seeing if Lara gave any particularly negative response. When she didn’t, Hara moved onto the other hip, repeating the process.

As Hara worked between her legs, she kept giving intimidating looks up toward Lara. She was absolutely thinking about abusing her position, but clearly wasn’t going to until she was sure Lara wasn’t in pain. As she worked the other hip and Lara started to relax, another feeling also came over her. Watching Hara work, Lara felt a very slight twisting in her stomach. Hara’s hands were soft but she had a firm grip, her understanding of a body - what buttons to push and when - was impressive. She was also, without a shred of doubt, thinking things about Lara so depraved they wouldn’t have been printable on paper. Lara really had to wonder what level of veneer Hara’s professionalism was, but also what level of veneer her lust was. Hara wasn’t some cartoon character whose eyes bulged out when she saw breasts, she wasn’t completely one-dimensional. Lara even half-suspected she was not quite so lusty as she pretended. On the other hand-

“Hara, I’m not sure you need to be touching there,” Lara managed to keep from grinning.

“Oh hush, this is not me groping you.” Hara had set her hand firmly below Lara’s navel and the heel of it was pressing above her crotch in a way that definitely bordered on erogenous. “Positioning like this gives me good leverage.”

“Leverage, huh?” Lara teased.

Hara gave her a second of a completely blank expression, then lifted the massage wand from Lara’s hip and pressed it against her pussy. Lara gasped and squirmed away, half-laughing and half-yelping. Hara grabbed her leg and put the wand back against her hip.

“I’m a professional, you know.” Hara punctuated the statement by reaching out and honking one of Lara’s breasts. “If I were groping you, this is what it would look like.”

“Thank you for the handsy - I mean handy - demonstration.” Lara answered dramatically.

“Honestly, you are worse behaved than I am.” Hara muttered. “I don’t believe for a second that this wasn’t a booty call.”

“It truly wasn’t,” Lara protested. “I told you, I don’t think of you that way.”

“And if during the course of our hanging out things just so happened to evolve into one?” Hara glanced up.

“I mean…” Lara mumbled. “If it was part of the treatment…”

“Your English need to create a story justification for sex confuses me.” Hara looked at her amusedly.

“I just happen to find things more exciting if we don’t walk into the same room and immediately start rubbing our genitals together.” Lara countered.

“But the genital rubbing is the part we’re both after,” Hara countered back.

“Speak for yourself, I’ve also gotten a tremendous amount of back pain relief out of this.” Lara smirked.

Hara stood up and turned the massage gun off. Setting it aside, she grabbed Lara’s feet and slowly pushed her legs up until they were a straight line perpendicular to her body. As she started to push Lara’s legs very slowly and softly apart, Lara shuddered.

“Did you just lick my foot?” Lara asked.

“Did it feel like I licked your foot?” Hara asked guiltily. “You may have imagined it.”

“Maybe I did,” Lara teased. “The Hara I know once called feet one of the ugliest parts of the body. So unless you were to have been poisoned by a smartphone and access to internet pornography…”

“Do I come into your home and personally attack you?” Hara’s face appeared between Lara’s legs. “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this.”

“I’m so sorry, that was unbecoming of me.” Lara pressed the back of her hand to her forehead.

“Didn’t even do anything for me anyway,” Hara mumbled.

She managed to work Lara down to what was essentially a split, as well as having no trouble getting Lara’s knees up next to her head. Strangely enough, it wasn’t the more ambitious stuff like this that caused problems so much as just sitting on the floor or in a plane seat did. With Lara’s knees up and away, Hara settled herself on Lara’s butt. She could suddenly feel Hara’s pussy against her own through the thin fabric of both pairs of pants. Hara reached over and grabbed the massager again, setting it to the lowest setting and then pushing it down between their crotches. For Lara, it was still a bit on the intense side, but for Hara it seemed to be more teasing than pleasing.

Hara leaned forward and kissed Lara, displaying some pretty decent flexibility of her own. Lara opened her mouth and let it happen, flicking her tongue against Hara’s as the other woman’s hands found Lara’s breasts like they’d been laser guided. Lara squirmed slightly and took uneven, gaspy breaths as Hara played with her while kissing her. All the while the massager was being used not for the manufacturer-intended purpose but the actual practical purpose. Lara could feel the crotch of her yoga pants starting to get sticky. Hara shakily pushed Lara’s sports bra up and her hands groped Lara’s breasts with renewed fervor. Dark fingers pinching Lara’s pink nipples, gripping the pale skin with the same firm, manipulating grip she’d used everywhere else.

“You’re so… gropable,” Hara gave a rumbling murmur from deep in her chest.

“Thanks?” Lara whispered back, gasping softly.

“How long are you in town?” Hara breathed excitedly.

“I don’t-” Lara started, but Hara leaned in to kiss her again, biting her lip as she tried to top and exhaling excitedly, her chest continuing to rumble.

“Fuck, I don’t even want to go on a date or show you the sights or anything,” Hara growled. “I just want to lock all the doors and keep you here until my students call in a wellness check.”

Lara felt a little shock of excitement. She didn’t have anywhere near the libido for it, but Hara absolutely did. It was also pretty easy to tell that this was going to be the rest of the afternoon.

Her back was starting to throb right around the time Lara cried out into Vasundhara’s mouth. The vibrator was a little too high for her liking, and she was finishing faster than she’d have liked, but she was cumming whether or not she wanted to. As her eyes screwed shut and her back started to arch, hips pumping like she was trying to dislodge the girl on top of her, Lara’s back suddenly flared up in pain. It wasn’t enough to ruin things, but it certainly came through like a harsh dissonant note in the middle of a pop song. Her yoga pants were soaking through, Hara was growling and chewing her lip, but she was suddenly intensely aware of how **** their positioning was and how the whole of her back tensed and untensed during her orgasm.

As she came down and Hara let go of her lip, Lara struggled to find her voice. Letting out a series of ‘ow’s that started off silent but slowly crept up in volume until Hara realized what she was saying and sprang off of her. Lara’s legs lowered back to their normal position slowly and with discomfort, the wetness in the crotch of her pants just another little unpleasantness.

“Are you okay?” Hara leaned down and grabbed the massager from the floor, brandishing it like she might ward away spirits.

“We need to be… less ambitious,” Lara grumbled after a moment’s wincing. Hara rolled her over on her side and found the spot on her back that was aching.

“Is laying on a bed unambitious enough?” Hara asked softly. “I have a heating pad.”

“Oh that sounds absolutely lovely,” Lara sighed.

“Perfect,” Hara helped her up slowly. Voice suddenly intense again. “You relax and do that, I want to eat your cunt until my tongue goes numb.”

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