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They’re training for the first-class mage exam when it happens.
Maybe that’s not specific enough, not when they’ve both been training nonstop ever since they failed their first exam three years ago, but Kanne doesn’t need to be any more specific in her own mind. There’s no way she would ever forget this.
No matter how often they train together, it always ends up with Lawine pinning Kanne to the ground somehow. Except. Except this time she…
Kanne is frozen in shock as she lays prone on her back, staring between Lawine’s legs. Lawine’s ruffled skirts are splayed around her head, creating a shroud between Kanne’s head and the rest of the world. All she can see is the pale skin above Lawine’s thigh-high stockings, the shadowy pleats of her dress, and the white cotton of the underwear between her legs.
They’re very cute, Kanne thinks. She wouldn’t call them indecent. She wouldn’t call anything about Lawine indecent. They’re conservative, covering her whole bottom and made of a practical fabric. At first glance, there's nothing about them that could even be considered panties, but—there’s a tiny, cobalt blue bow on the front of them. Like they’re wrapping on a gift.
Kanne’s breath stutters as she watches the white of Lawine’s panties slowly turn translucent with slick. Enough that Kanne can see the shape of her labia, the plush lips pressing against the fabric.
Lawine can’t know, can she? She’s still holding Kanne’s wrists to the ground, even though Kanne has been shocked into stillness for what must be minutes now. Lawine hasn’t moved off of Kanne yet and Kanne can’t see her face when she’s buried under her skirts like this.
Lawine’s underwear is so wet now that the slick soaks through, threatening to drip on Kanne’s face.
Kanne gulps, throat suddenly dry.
She leans up and licks across the seam of Lawine’s panties, letting out a soft sound at the muted taste of her arousal.
Lawine gasps and Kanne still can’t see her face, but she can imagine it; the look of surprise, the faint blush across her cheeks, the way she will surely be biting her lip to make sure that she doesn’t make another sound.
Kanne can feel her breath stuttering, heart racing in her chest. When she moves a hand out of Lawine’s suddenly slack grip to hook a finger into her drenched panties, she can see how it shakes.
Without letting herself stop to question the sanity of her actions—because she can’t. If she thinks then she’ll start to worry and panic and she—Kanne pulls Lawine’s panties aside, feeling her own cunt throb at seeing the string of slick that clings to them.
Lawine’s cunt is just as beautiful as the rest of her, with thick pink folds that glisten with wetness. She’s shaved completely bare, skin as clear as the porcelain of her thighs. Does she use magic for that? To make herself smooth and soft? Surely she couldn’t be using a blade. The idea of someone as prim and proper as Lawine using her own hands down there for anything at all seems impossible.
The taste of Lawine still on her tongue, Kanne presses soft kisses to Lawine’s bare skin in a loop around where she’s dripping so intensely that it leaves Kanne’s cheeks damp. Lawine cries out in frustration, but she doesn’t try to move Kanne’s mouth and, despite her shaking thighs, lets Kanne kiss where she wants.
She darts a tongue out for a single lap and Lawine’s skin is hot to the touch, but nothing like the salty musk that she had a taste of earlier. Kanne wants that again, wants to drink down the taste of Lawine’s slick until it fills her belly, until her tongue is so deep that Lawine can’t move without feeling it.
And Lawine wants it too, if the way her thighs spread wide so that her burning center drops closer to Kanne’s panting mouth says anything; so Kanne presses her tongue broad and fat against Lawine’s wet, throbbing cunt and hears Lawine’s answering wail.
Oh, how she wishes that she could see Lawine’s face as she made that noise. For as many years as they’ve been friends, Lawine has never made a sound so impassioned and her face must reflect the pleasure making her cunt drip. But really this is for the best; it’s easier when Lawine isn’t looking at her; Kanne has always been able to work better when no one was watching.
Kanne keeps the base of her tongue snug against Lawine’s swollen clit and curls the tip back and forth where it’s dipped into where Lawine is the softest and wettest.
Lawine feels so open against her mouth, like her cunt is begging for as much of Kanne as she can get. It’s that thought that prompts Kanne to slide the thumb of the hand holding Lawine’s panties to the side into her. Immediately, Lawine’s thighs tremble so hard that she nearly loses balance, and Kanne has to take her finger out so that she can brace Lawine by the grip she has on the crease near Lawine’s inner thigh.
A fresh burst of slick follows her finger and Kanne laps it up over the sound of Lawine’s outraged cry of, “Put it back!”
She can’t, not unless she wants to be smothered to death which, while not a bad way to go, would be a shame to have happen before she felt Lawine come on her tongue.
Still, even as Kanne starts to circle Lawine’s clit, lips mouthing sweetly against Lawine’s labia, she feels a little guilty for not following orders. Her own cunt throbs mercilessly, wetness sliding down past the hem of her tiny green shorts, and if Lawine had touched her only to take her hands away a moment later she would probably cry.
Even though she knows that they wouldn’t have gotten this far if Kanne had been able to see Lawine’s face, she can’t help but wish she could see her now. The flush in her normally pale cheeks, the heave of her breasts against her ruffled neckline. Lawine’s modesty is sexy, particularly with the context of Kanne mouthing between her messy thighs.
Lawine’s shout earlier must have unleashed something within her, because she’s loud now, crying out her pleasure with a fervor that Kanne has never heard from her friend before. She sounds frustrated, near tears, and Kanne’s tongue rolls over her clit as her slick slides thick and messy down her chin. Kanne rubs her own thighs together, desperate for any type of friction.
The wetness is so slippery that the panties Kanne had kept pulled taut to the side start to slip out of her fingers and before she can stop it, the fabric snaps sharply against Lawine’s labia.
Lawine gasps and her thighs spread wider, impaling her cunt on Kanne’s tongue. Kanne moans, spreading her tongue wide, mouth and tongue and chin pressed fully against Lawine and—and Lawine is coming. She can feel it. The frantic trembling of her cunt, the final burst of slick that has nowhere to go but down her throat.
Lawine’s grip finally loosens and Kanne moves her hand underneath her shorts so that she can grope between her own legs, shoving two fingers roughly into herself and that’s all it takes for her to come as well, mouth still full and pressed deep into Lawine’s cunt.
Kanne tries to catch her breath as best she can with Lawine sitting on her face. Part of her isn’t sure whether she wants Lawine to move ever again, but Lawine must be sensitive, because she starts to squirm soon enough and lifts herself off Kanne’s tongue.
The light is nearly blinding as Lawine moves off of her, and it’s with a flush of embarrassment that Kanne realizes that they’d had sex in the middle of the training grounds at midday.
Lawine is as pink-cheeked as Kanne had imagined, but her expression is her typical placid one. Before Kanne can think of anything, Lawine clears her throat and says, “Same time tomorrow?”