Asen snorted at Aren's suggestion. "Nah, too far. I don't think I could keep myself under control with you around, an' I'd hafta put my clothes back on. You would too, an' considerin' your current state," she said, rolling her hips to grind against the man beneath her, "I don't think you'd control yourself until we got a room."
She quickly scanned the surrounding area for some sort of cover, a copse of trees or a small hill. Spotting an overhang, she rolled off of Aren and stood up. "Aha! Over there, come on!"
The half-Dhani scampered over to the chosen area. In the event that she arrived before the massive man, she would brush off any sand that stuck to her waifish figure. The overhang was large enough to conceal them from most prying eyes, even with Aren's impressive frame.
He was twice her age at the very least, and yet here he was frolicking in the sand with a girl who looked barely seventeen and he appeared to be in his twenties by human standards. Aren was a peculiar man, to say the least. Then again, they both were.
The blonde slid her fingers through her hair to shake the remaining sand out of the wild curls and give it a bit more volume. All that rolling about in the sand and water, and her hair had only just begun to regain its normal vitality.
"Honestly, Aren. You're so slow," she told him playfully when she was done with her hair, "Makes me wonder how you ever get anywhere when there en't petchin' involved."
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She quickly scanned the surrounding area for some sort of cover, a copse of trees or a small hill. Spotting an overhang, she rolled off of Aren and stood up. "Aha! Over there, come on!"
The half-Dhani scampered over to the chosen area. In the event that she arrived before the massive man, she would brush off any sand that stuck to her waifish figure. The overhang was large enough to conceal them from most prying eyes, even with Aren's impressive frame.
He was twice her age at the very least, and yet here he was frolicking in the sand with a girl who looked barely seventeen and he appeared to be in his twenties by human standards. Aren was a peculiar man, to say the least. Then again, they both were.
The blonde slid her fingers through her hair to shake the remaining sand out of the wild curls and give it a bit more volume. All that rolling about in the sand and water, and her hair had only just begun to regain its normal vitality.
"Honestly, Aren. You're so slow," she told him playfully when she was done with her hair, "Makes me wonder how you ever get anywhere when there en't petchin' involved."
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