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Who: Chataya (

trustsnone) and Porrim (

genitrix)
What: There's a lot of interspecies exploration going on here.
Where: Highcrest's brothel.
When: Definitely backdated to before the event.
Warnings: NC-17, let's just put that out there - these girls are definitely going to end up having sex.

It's been a very long time since Chataya has felt...anticipation(?) before an appointment. One appointment is very like another, with the only differences being who her clients expect her to be. But this one is different - for multiple reasons. Her client is a friend, for one - or, at least, Chataya is beginning to consider her as one, and she hopes the feeling is mutual - so she is giving little thought to being anyone other than herself. But perhaps more than that, her client is...different. Alien.

Not that Chataya minds, of course, but it's... Well, there are really no words for that kind of thing, are there? She's had clients who were vampires, clients with various changes to their bodies (wings or horns or something of that sort), but no clients who were...quite so different from her. Porrim has different skin, different blood, different...bits.

Still, this is what she does, so she follows her usual patterns - dresses herself up, touches up her makeup, and finally artfully arranges herself on her spread of cushions and silks, waiting for Porrim.

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She isn't nervous. She doesn't really get nervous anymore, not about sex. But she's still tense while she gets ready, very attentive to details. Porrim's had some time to procure nice underthings and replicate a good chunk of her wardrobe from back home, and she picks out one of her favorite ensembles: a black coatdress with flattering ruffles and buttons up to the neck, culminating in a satin bow in her trademark jade. She's tall and leggy already, so she chooses a low-heeled boot instead of pumps. After applying her makeup and running a brush over her hair, she embarks on the walk to Chataya's brothel, giving herself plenty of time so as not to overexert herself prematurely.

When she arrives, she gives her name and is shown up to a nice room, but not before the servant gives her several long, suspicious looks. When she's gone, Porrim mutters, "Xenophobe" under her breath, before knocking lightly.

"Come in," Chataya calls, from her perch, and there's an odd flutter in the pit of her stomach as she does. When Porrim walks into the room, though, all her nerves seem to dissipate - here is the woman with whom she has spent so much time chatting, to whom she owes her entire wardrobe (including the dress she is currently wearing, she realizes, with a little laugh), and with whom she feels a very strong building rapport.

Why had she been nervous at all?

"You look absolutely lovely, dear," she says, her tone much more relaxed now, and her smile as natural as anything.

Normally, it's difficult to parse emotion from her gaze, but there's a subtle widening of her blank eyes that makes it very clear that she's impressed by what she sees when she opens the door. She closes the door behind her with a soft click and steps closer.

"Likewise," she returns the compliment, removing her green suede kid gloves and setting them down on a nearby table. "The fit of that dress is exquisite." It shows off the soft curves of Chataya's body incredibly well, and Porrim feels a little swell of pride at her own handiwork. Carefully, she lowers herself down next to Chataya, smiling at how similar it all is to her own pile at home, soft silks and velvets perfect for curling up on.

Oh, and isn't that interesting? Chataya's cheeks actually flush slightly at Porrim's appreciative glance, and it's been ages since anyone's gotten that reaction out of her without her having to fake it. She shifts slightly to give Porrim more room to sit down and make herself comfortable - and there's plenty there to do it with. Her past on the streets makes her very appreciative to the finer things in life, and even if her experiences of sleeping on nothing but cobblestones and dirt are far in the past, she still can't quite get over the luxury of soft, comfortable things to curl up in.

"Well, I have you to thank for that, don't I?" she says fondly, smoothing one hand across the fabric of her dress, down the curve of her hip. "You really are something else - I don't know what I would have done without you."

Porrim's lips curl upward, painted her signature black, noticing the delicate color rising to her companion's cheeks. Exceptionally lovely, even if the color reminds her of Kankri a bit. She places a hand on her cheek in response to the compliment.

"That's very sweet of you, but really, it was my pleasure. It isn't often I get to make clothes for someone who truly appreciates it." Her gaze is drawn to Chataya's rather lovely hip and the hand running across it, and makes the same quiet chirping noise, almost cricketlike, as she did when they were speaking before.

"And what a perfect model you make."

"You're too kind," Chataya answers, but it's a little absently. That noise has distracted her, much like it did earlier, and she finds herself pushing up to support herself on her elbows, curious.

"That...noise," she says cautiously, uncertain as to whether she's stepping over unseen etiquette lines - who knows where those lines are with an alien customer?

"What does it mean? I've never heard anyone make anything like it before."

She doesn't cringe, or move away, but instead tilts her head, unused to the inquiry. Then again, she hasn't made that noise in front of anyone not of her own species, so it's understandable. She laughs, quietly, placing a hand on her thigh.

"It's a sound my kind makes when we're...aroused, I suppose you'd say."

Always straightforward, Porrim.

"Oh," she replies, oddly flattered for reasons she can't quite explain. It's not as if she's unused to clients being aroused around her, but there's something more...subtle about Porrim's arousal, something more delicate. Chataya finds she likes that.

She reaches out, shifting her weight to one arm, so that she can place her hand atop Porrim's, marveling at the very distinct differences between them.

"I think it's lovely."

That, more than anything, widen's Porrim's smile, and the ensuing physical contact is more than welcome. The first thing Chataya will notice is her body temperature; far cooler than a human's, though she runs middle-of-the-ground as far as her own species goes. Porrim is equally surprised at the other woman's warmth, and immediately slips her hand out from beneath the one covering it, letting it glide leisurely up Chataya's arm, savoring the feel of smooth, warm skin. It reminds her a bit of Damara, actually.

"That's a nice word. My kind don't often use it...'lovely'."

As she speaks, she leans forward, following the progress of her hand, but keeping her body weight centered over her knees, so she's hovering just above Chataya.

"That's very unfortunate." She remains propped up on her arm, letting Porrim explore as she will. It's not only the temperature of her skin that's different, but also the texture, so Chataya finds the soft skim of Porrim's hand along her arm a rather delightfully new experience that leaves goosebumps in its wake.

Carefully, so as not to interrupt Porrim's exploration, she lifts her arm and takes hold of a bit of Porrim's dark hair, twining it gently between her fingers.

"It seems an excellent word to describe you. But I'm sure there are a fair many other words your kind use to describe someone like you, then."

That elicits a little snort, derisive, but playful, as she leans into the fingers playing in her hair. Her voice is softer now, as her fingers graze delicate collarbones.

"None quite so kind, I'm afraid." Porrim lowers her head and plants a gentle kiss on Chataya's shoulder, leaving a black lipstick mark. The sight of it makes her smirk. She pulls back, noting the gooseflesh she seems to have elicited.

"What's this?"

She can't quite stop her head from tipping back slightly as Porrim's hands skim her collarbones - there's a hint of sharp claws there, but that's nothing Chataya's never experienced before, and she is relatively sure that she has nothing to fear from Porrim.

"Even more unfortunate," she murmurs, glancing down at the lipstick mark on her shoulder. That is different, and the stark contrast of black against her pale skin is inordinately fascinating. She doesn't think she's even met anyone who wears black lipstick before.

At Porrim's question, though, she refocuses her attention, although she doesn't quite understand the question at first.

"What?" she asks, glancing at her arms, and seeing nothing odd there. After a moment, she realizes that Porrim's kind might not have the same sort of skin reactions as she does. "Oh, these? They're...goosebumps. Do you not get them?"

She shakes her head lightly, captivated by the tiny bumps all along Chataya's porcelain arm.

"Never. Humans are so interesting."

She doesn't allow it to distract her for long, though; she's far more interested in leaving more lipstick marks on her partner's pretty pale skin. Her nose glides from collarbone to jaw, breathing in the distinctly human scent of Chataya's skin, and something in her stirs at the sound, the smell of blood just under the surface there. Fortunately, Porrim is a rainbow drinker of exceptional self-control, and so she merely appreciates. A clawed hand makes its way from her hip bone to just beneath her ribcage, settling firmly there while she takes the opportunity to kiss into Chataya's neck.

She sucks in a quick breath at the cool touch of Porrim's hand on her waist, palpable even through the fabric of her dress. Slowly, her head still tipped back, she lowers herself more fully onto the bed, freeing her other hand to explore.

Her hands move from Porrim's long hair to her ears, fingering all the metal there briefly, before sliding up and over to brush against the base of her horns.

She's pleased when Chataya follows her cues and reciprocates her exploration, but Porrim's not quite expecting the fingertips that brush against the base of her horns. It sends a jolt straight to her bulge, causing her to jump slightly and tighten her grip, and she practically purrs a soft "Oh!" Her entire frame has gone tense, but now she melts into the other woman, angling her head into the touch the way a cat might. The fact that Chataya can't have known the kind of reaction it would elicit makes it all the more exciting.

That is a reaction she's never seen before, and it sends a thrill right up her spine that seems to force its way from between her parted lips in a soft, panting breath. She parts her legs slightly, almost unconsciously, to let Porrim's weight settle against her, and continues her exploring with gentle, questing fingertips, marveling at the texture of horns under her hands.

She takes advantage of the newfound space, settling between Chataya's thighs with ease. Her bulge is unsheathed by now, but the several layers of thick fabric between their bodies mean that Chataya won't feel anything out of the ordinary just yet. There's a low, steady purring thing happening in Porrim's throat by now, and she lavishes whatever part of her friend's neck she can reach with kisses and the occasional hint of teeth, kneading her head upward against the hands on her horns. It's sending delicious thrills down her spine, and she doesn't want to stop, but her clothing is starting to feel a bit restrictive, so she reluctantly pulls away, tugging at the rows of shiny gold buttons on her dress with a bit of a sheepish grin.

The purr is so delightfully alien that Chataya hardly notices much of anything else - although the barest hint of sharp teeth against her skin makes her shiver in delight. So concentrated is she on finding out what other interesting noises she can pull out of Porrim that she actually makes a small, disappointed noise at first when Porrim pulls away and moves her horns out of reach.

She sits up at once, reaching out for Porrim's horns again, but once she catches on to what Porrim is doing, she redirects her hands to help with the many buttons, slipping them easily from their fastenings.

Porrim laughs softly at the noise of disappointment, pleased that Chataya seems to be enjoying herself so much. With a second pair of hands, her dress is quickly undone, and she lets it fall from her black-inked shoulders to reveal a lacy bra in—what else—jade, just sheer enough that the a glint of gold metal is visible underneath. She lets the garment hang from her hips for the time being, too busy pulling Chataya upward toward her, straddling the other woman's lap easily as her fingers find the zipper she so expertly sewed into the back of the dress.

She goes easily - perhaps a little too easily, and she finds herself startled momentarily at how strong Porrim seems. The thought is pushed quickly from her mind, though, at the sight of that gold under Porrim's lingerie.

She supposes she shouldn't be surprised - Porrim has enough metal on the bits of her that aren't usually covered by clothes - but she is, nonetheless. She's never seen anything like it before, and she reaches out to brush curious fingers over the piercings through the last layer of clothing covering them.

Porrim gasps lightly as the contact, nipples stiffening, and it urges her forward in her mission to get Chataya out of that dress—she tugs and the zipper parts, halves of the dress falling away easily in the wake of her hands. She takes a moment to lean back and appreciate the newly exposed skin, hands settling on Chataya's elbows.

"I think you were an excellent choice for my first human."

Chataya rarely wears undergarments - at least, not on top. Her dresses are usually boned or lined or have some other means of support to keep them up without straps, and her chest has never been particularly ample, anyway. Today is no exception, so Porrim's stripping away of her dress leaves her bare to the waist. Not that she minds at all.

She glances up from her inspection at Porrim's comment - surprised again, though a moment's thought tells her she probably shouldn't be. After all, if Porrim is from...Somewhere Else, then it stands to reason that most (if not all) of her previous sexual encounters were with her own kind. Still, Chataya finds herself oddly flattered, and she says as much with a shy smile.

[It's hard to tell, but Porrim's gaze is drawn to Chataya's bosom, so pale and delicate and different from her own. Her hands glide upward, from waist to ribcage, and then they ease upwards, softly cupping those breasts. She never thought about how different a human's skin texture might be from her own—warm, almost velvety, and from the scent and the thrum of blood beneath, thinner than her own.

And that reminds her of...other differences between them. Namely, the big one between her legs. She plants a firm kiss at the junction of Chataya's clavicles, then pulls away again, standing up and pushing her dress the rest of the way past her hips, so it lands in a pile on the floor. She steps out of it, kicking it away, and then kicking her boots off. This leaves her in her underwear, and underneath the matching lace panties is a very unusual sight, to a human being. Her bulge protrudes outward at the front, and although it isn't unsheathed yet, it's not far from happening.]

This will be...a bit different from your usual fare.

Something about the way Porrim pulls away after that last firm kiss seems to tell Chataya that she has something important to say, so Chataya remains on the bed, watching curiously. She does, however, wriggle out of the rest of her dress, leaving her clad in only her rather lacy white undergarments, and pushes herself back up to rest on her elbows.

When Porrim gets out of her dress, Chataya's eyes widen a bit, and her gaze quite obviously fixes on the most noticeable difference between them, but there's no sign of disgust or repulsion on her face - mostly curiosity, with a little bit of wonder.

It's something she's never seen before, certainly, but in her rather wide range of experience, she hardly thinks it ranks anywhere near the most disconcerting or sometimes outright disturbing. It's simply...different, as as it's attached to someone she's quickly growing rather fond of, she's willing to go along with it.

"You did mention there were some differences between us." She glances up with a coy look. "I see you weren't exaggerating."

She smirks a little bit at that widening of Chataya's eyes, although she wasn't expecting anything drastic. Her fingers settle just under the waistband of her panties, toying and tugging gently.

"Not in the least. You did say you wanted to take a good look..." She pulls downward, sliding the jade lace down and over her thighs, down to her knees where they drop to the floor, and then straightens up, hands resting near her hips. The rustling of lace fabric and the sheer thrill of being looked at is enough that her bulge has begun to unsheath, peeking out from the skin covering it to writhe upward toward her stomach. "...so look all you want."

There's an unspoken addendum to that statement, and that's that Chataya is welcome to touch all she wants, too.

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