Shamefully so

Conan carefully and gently used her slim fingers and the cool water to cleanse herself, blushing furiously as Sonja watched with condescending amusement and mockingly mirrored her actions with exaggerated ministrations that were both lewd and base.

Conan felt envy.

The petite wench averted her gaze reluctantly, stared steadfastly at the waters, tried to clear her mind. She bit her lip to stifle her errant tongue as she did attended to her unwanted nethers, afraid she would gasp, moan, groan, sigh or otherwise involuntarily give voice to the pleasure her cleansing illicited. He knees felt weak and despite her intents she found her hips rocking instinctively as she gingerly removed the offending sands. Her jaw clenched and she paused, gathering her resolve and mustering her will. This was not an act of pleasure but a necessary act. She was merely removing an unwanted annoyance. But the erect little clit poking out of her tingling hood mocked her reasoning.

Sonja did not help in the least and felt no such prudish compunctions. Conan’s shame grew as she listened to the little feminine noises of pleasure that Sonja made as she went about her own cleansing. She turned to look and saw Sonja with her eyes closed, hips rocking in the waters as she fingered herself.

Conan’s eyes burned with a wild need - she realised that Sonja was teasing her, blatantly showing her how easy female pleasure could be found. It irked the tiny girl. She knew she could instantly devolve into sensual pleasure in a moment of weakness and a growing part of her wanted to… but she did not wish to acknowledge this new part of her existence. Acknowledgement would lead to acceptance and the embracing her female desires. But she also sense that self denial only made her heart beat faster and her female… needs… more apparent. She growled in frustration. She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t.

Sonja’s eyes were half lidded as she watched the internal conflict play over the tiny Cimmerians face. The Barbarian girl’s body language was easy to read. The she devil chuckled mockingly and it made Conan’s juices start to flow despite her attempts to control her sexual excitement.

“Be quiet woman!” Conan grumbled petulantly. Not deep and commanding but high and girlishly whining.

Conan looked down at herself. She was more than familiar with the female hood that girt the tiny and sensitive nub of a woman’s clit. She knew the folds of a woman’s sex. She moved quickly. Groaned. “Crom…” she swore.