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Beau slips away from all of the planning, about as far as she can possibly get while still technically being in the village. Just in case.
The Belabor is gripped tight in her hands as she vaults up the trees and finds a nice branch to settle on. No bugs or anything, and big enough that she could lay back against the trunk of the tree and really enjoy herself.
“Did you two fuck?” Jester's voice keeps echoing in her mind, over and over again, until she's undoing the band of her pants and draping them over the branch she's on. She keeps The Belabor close, running her fingers over the staff, feeling the tiny grooves of the runes carved into it. It's such a nice thing, she has no choice but to appreciate it. Thanks, who ever spent the time to make this, and thanks to whoever decided to give it up to a volcano god. Totally worth almost boiling alive for.
They didn't fuck, incidentally, but wouldn't that have been nice?
She's been thinking about it form the second Jester asked the question. It's hard to keep her mind off it, off of Yasha in general lately. Who can say if its the same sort of crush she has for Jester, but there's definitely something that makes the pit of her stomach warm up real nice.
Beau gets the staff under her, settles on her knees and grinds against it.
Fuck, that's good.
She presses against it as close as she can with her smalls still on, and rubs the staff between her legs. The drag of the worn fabric against it is basically heaven- and it's been so fucking long since she's touched herself. But now, with the crisis averted, and her so high up and away from all the noise, she can just have a “me” moment.
Self care or whatever.
The staff is unyielding when she moves her hips back and forth, a really good pressure in just the right place, and she can feel herself getting warmer as she does. She can feel herself getting wetter too, so she spares a hand to shove her top up and get her fingers on her nipples. She rolls the bud between her fingers and stifles a moan.
Yeah, that's nice...
Would be even nicer if there were bigger hands on her.
Fuck, now she's thinking about it again. Thinking about Yasha's large calloused hands cupping her tits and pulling on her nipples to get her to make sounds loud enough that will for sure get Beau in trouble. Fuck, and if she did it while they were flying too-
Beau makes sure the staff won't slip out from under her, wedging it into the edge of the wood where the branch begins before pushing her small clothes out of the way and pressing her pussy to the staff, rolling her hips from side to side, getting it wet for herself. And thinking about Yasha. There's a lot of thinking about Yasha.
It's honestly a miracle she doesn't fall off of the tree with how much she's thinking about Yasha.
She's fully straddling the staff now, her left hand holding it up, while she ruts against it, her free hand still on her chest, still tweaking a nipple. God, Yasha would be so good to her- she just has that look, that vibe, that Beau knows would lead to mind blowing sex.
It would be rough, but like, restrained, in the way Yasha does everything, she'd get Beau off so many times and Beau would be breathless and boneless and so tired and Yasha would kiss the side of her head and let her ride her high out. She must really be in a mood if she's thinking about the aftercare while trying to get off.
Maybe she'd ride Yasha's thigh the way she's riding her new shiny staff right now, though Yasha's thighs are thicker, and maybe Yasha could tie her hands behind her and grip her hips and grind Beau down on her at her own pace. God that would be hot. God that would be so fucking hot. It's easy to close her eyes and drift into the fantasy.
She can practically feel the hands on her hips, keeping her on pace. She'd trying to buck out of them, obviously, but Yasha's so much stronger then her, she'd keep Beau in check. In real life her hips go faster, desperately rubbing her clit into The Belabor.
“Fuck- fuck- fuck- fuck-” She wants to fuck herself with her fingers but she can't bring herself to stop, and she's still so wet- when was the last time she was every this wet, holy shit it's down her thighs and everything. She keeps grinding down on the staff, faster and harder, breathing getting desperate while the heat in her belly builds and builds and her muscles get tighter and tighter.
She keeps thinking about Yasha, about her long heir and her pretty eyes and her strong arms and her callused fingers and the way they'd get her off so fucking good. Her eyes fly open when she gets the angle just right and a spark shoots up her spine.
It sort of vibrated when she swung it earlier right- right?
She doesn't stop rubbing on it, doesn't let up on her cunt, but she does drop her hand from her nipple to press the runes higher up on the staff. The thing light up for a second, the hardness pressed up against her going warm for a second before the arcane energy makes the entire staff shudder right up against her clit.
She comes with a shout, muscles twitching and every part of her alive and on fire.
Magic is so great sometimes, actually.