Author's Notes: Shameless smut and an equally shameless desire for fancy descriptions. Wonderful!

Enjoy.

Normally she's far more restrained when initiating the process, but three weeks without the chance to indulge have left her quite voracious, like a predator starved of flesh. So when she's finally away from the restraints of Nimbasa, when she's finally cornered her prey, she wastes no time in pouncing.

Skyla squeals in delighted surprise when she finds Elesa standing outside the front door, squeals in unexpected surprise when the model honestly scoops her up bridal style and surges up the stairs and all but kicks the bedroom door down, and finally gasps in shock when Elesa ruthlessly dumps her atop her bed and pounces upon her.

She doesn't even have time to question this, to react whether physically or mentally, as Elesa pins her down with ease, staring wide-eyed and shocked into the almost primal lust of the woman's gleaming blue eyes above her, but any sense of questioning dissolves when she is kissing her, lips hungry upon hers, making up for lost time with intense dominance.

Elesa's lips meld against hers, the typical soft warmth now harder, hotter, claiming her as her own, and Skyla finds it immensely satisfying at how easily she can break down the model's stoic façade, how easily she can uncover the primal desires underneath. She moans into her mouth, playing the role of submission with ease, Elesa's hands pinning her wrists to the bed sheet as she hungrily kisses the pilot.

It's so good, so utterly good, to be finally kissing her again, to taste her sweet skin and feel her smooth lips, that she almost wants to cry in euphoria. Three weeks is such a short space of time, when put into perspective, yet it felt so much longer than that without her beautiful wonderful Skyla. She waited for this, dreamed of it, anticipated it, and she will revel in every moment of it.

When she shifts targets, both of them pant for air in the space of their lips disconnecting, Skyla giving out small whimpers that could drive Elesa insane with the urge to satisfy them, so she moves in and draws her tongue across her cheek, adoring the smooth skin with the sweet taste as she glides across it. She licks her again, again, another time, Skyla's eyes shut tight as she focuses entirely on the slick muscle that tickles so wonderfully at her charged nerves. Oh, she's missed her Elesa, missed her skilled and eager touch!

She giggles slightly, tickled and pleased, when the tongue traces her jawline, and the sound is delightful to Elesa's ears. She presses against the pilot's cheek slightly, pushing at the malleable flesh with her tongue, before drawing the muscle down and down, leaving the faintest trail of wet behind, until she reaches the curve of the neck from the jaw.

Skyla gasps slightly, pleasure rubbing at her conscious mind, as the sensitive skin of her neck is assaulted by Elesa's hungry lips, latching onto her skin and kissing and sucking possessively at it, the probe of her tongue interspacing the action of her lips. Her whole body shudders and shakes under the model's touch and every moan seems to spur her lover on, breathing hotly onto her skin in a faint wave of heat that prickles and shivers her skin-

Skyla suddenly gives a drawn-out groan, and the sound seems to further invigorate Elesa's unrestrained desire, as she moves up and kisses her again, locking their lips together and possessively probing the pilot's mouth with her tongue. Three weeks has been far too long, far too long away from her indulgent little Skyla.

Skyla's wrists are released when Elesa's hands decide to cup her face instead, and she wraps her arms around the model, moaning into her as she licks at the probing muscle, which playfully flicks back, exploring the inner cheeks and swatting at her teeth, before it withdraws and she breathes in a lungful of cold air, which hisses at the heat of her innards. Elesa's eyes gleam brightly above her, that astonishing carnal pleasure burning within the blue irises, drawing every bit of her attention towards it; such is the utterly drawing power of her lover's eyes, Skyla murmurs: "Captivating…"

Elesa simply smiles slightly, before she reaches down and tugs at Skyla's shirt, a direct and silent order that the pilot, once the rational part of her mind manages to recuperate and understand, is all too eager to obey. Copying the model above her, she tugs and pulls at her bright blue shirt, struggling against a stint of darkness before it finally moves over her head, and she tugs her arms out of the constricting attire, just as Elesa, having leaned up for easier removal, disdainfully tosses her own shirt away, and both of their bares torsos are raked by the other's eyes

Pleased to see the pilot has neglected a bra, absolutely ecstatic that the pilot's unconfined breasts lay just below her, Elesa feels that surge of voracious desire that compelled her arrival here and does not waste any time. As Skyla shivers in anticipation, she moves down, hands gripping an perfect orb each, almost half as small compared to what they grip and revelling in the malleable softness, and takes the left peak into her mouth with zealous enthusiasm, Skyla giving a ragged groan as the model's hot mouth encases her sensitive tip.

Drawing her right hand across the other, shifting the gorgeous mound up and down, squeezing and fondling the soft flesh as her palm shifts from the side to the top, she suckles fanatically at her target, mind almost devoid of rational thought as she indulges in the sweet taste, exotic and incomparable to any other sweetness. Three weeks was far too long a time to wait, far too long.

And what a glory, to indulge! Kneading the dual orbs with unimaginable reverence, she licks and kisses and sucks at the left, coercing the most shuddering sounds from her lover, her body tensing and twisting under the sharp jabs of pleasure that prickle her nerves. Ah, to have Elesa's skilled and lustful touch upon her, it is a heaven that even the Hall of Origins would envy, as the model switches target, moving to the right and indulging it as eagerly as she had the previous.

Of course, many fools had dared to imply that the model was jealous of the pilot's far larger bosom, but then, Elesa always laughed off such petty comments with her ever-present unsaid retort; why would she be jealous, when she was the one fondling and kissing them at her leisure?

With the other woman deteriorating into ecstasy under her touch, she repeatedly moves from right to left, one breast to the other, never leaving one abandoned for too long as her hands and mouth worship, the long trails of her black bangs tickling against the sensitive skin of the pilot's chest and naval, the moaning girl all but clawing at the sheets to try and manage the repeated surges of pleasure.

Regretfully, finally, Elesa feels that the time to move on has arrived and with an air of regret, releases the pilot's chest from her grip and shifts backwards until her legs slide off the bed and her feet catch the floor. Skyla huffs in irritation at the cessation, before noting that the other woman is preparing to remove her trousers. Eyes widening in both excitement and understanding as a smile graces her face, Skyla promptly mimics her lover.

It's a difficult effort to remove their trousers, not because of an actual struggle to remove them and the undergarments, but simply because both are practically shuddering from the eager desire to return to the fray and their hands fumble and forget. But once it is accomplished, Elesa moves back onto the bed, but rather than going forward to again be atop Skyla, she instead grips the pilot's left leg and hoists it up, pressing it against her torso as she shifts her lover's hips to the side somewhat.

A glance down, and she sees the pink slit sitting innocently between the muscled thighs, and she is briefly transfixed by the sight. Such a curious little thing, the simple brightness of pink, and yet so damningly powerful in all it represents and all it will accomplish. Three weeks was far too long to see the pink again.

Skyla is at first unsure of what the model is doing, but when she grins at her, and shifts her hips over the prone right leg, she instantly understands and a powerful wave of excitement floods through her. Elesa's aim is precise; as she wraps her arms around the left leg to support it, she pushes her own hips forward, along Skyla's right thigh, until the pink slit is obscured by her own abdomen. Daringly, she pushes further, and suddenly, she gasps when a heated dampness is registered by the sensitive skin of her own nether region.

Skyla's reaction is far more potent, her torso arching and legs tensing as she groans at the contact, the sharp flare of the other woman's burning core against hers, a vicious connection of heat and touch and wet that electrifies every nerve in her body, every cell right down the organelles. Tribadism is one of their rarer activities, and she is so, so pleased to indulge in it again. Gripping the pilot's leg tightly, Elesa increases her speed, rapidly drawing her labia against Skyla's into a cycle of heated satisfaction, the brief cold of separation and then the glory of returning. It feels so good, so utterly good, that Elesa prays to Arceus this could last for an eternity.

The pilot is consistently moaning and panting, hands gripping the bed sheet astonishingly tightly, as Elesa furiously grinds her hips again and again against her target, drowning in the electrifying bursts of pleasure from each time their nether regions connect, scraping and sliding together in a lethal heat. The voracious lust that drove Elesa here to begin would be shrieking in triumph were it given voice, and, inspired by this thought and Skyla's ragged moans, she drives her hips into the other with increased force and zeal.

Thrust, withdraw, rinse and repeat, again and again. There is the satisfying, glorious flare of euphoria each time they connect, their hips dribbling and slick as they slid against each other, never failing to screw eyes shut and grit the teeth and exert the lungs and every other part of the body. Elesa wants to growl, Skyla wants to scream, their hearts thunder in their chests, and all the while, their nether regions collide, indulge, captivate, as if their very physical essence of feminity is as eager to kiss as their lips.

It doesn't take long, how could it take long with such ecstasy storming through their bodies, for the end to manifest, the final build-up to the glorious release, and when it comes, all the fury of the strongest tsunami, it drives both of them into a simultaneous scream of utter incoherence, indescribable in its relentless passion!

For a moment, time stands still, nothing but themselves and the flood that collides between them, before it slumps and reality reassembles itself.

When coherence returns, Elesa wipes the sweat off her forehead, breathing in slowly and deeply, recuperating for a moment, before, with an odd sense of difficulty and the faint squelch of fluid, separating herself from the prone and panting pilot, her legs shivering in the effort to move without losing all control. She slides the left leg down and moves forward, only for her arm to fall limp, leading her to slump down next to the pilot, side-by-side and utterly satisfied.

It takes a few moments for Skyla to regain enough strength to turn her head and softly smile at the model, murmuring: "Wow. Wow. That was intense…. What brought that about?"

Elesa grinned slightly: "Three weeks is way too long."

The pilot immediately laughs as if she had heard the most amusing joke ever devised, and she finds herself laughing along with her. Too long indeed.