Continuing a bad idea - White's Funhouse

She smiled, her hips moving just slightly into his touch.

"Make me an offer. I just need to be able to tell my clan that I'm being paid for the knowledge."

He chuckled. "You don't want to tell them the truth? That I offered to kiss every inch of your body before bending you over?" he nibbled her neck.

She laughed, though her hand went around to the back of his head as he nibbled at her, falling back to give him better access.

"While I have little doubt that such payment is sufficient for teachings within your clan, Mister White, I can guarantee you that you do not want to see the reactions of mine to such payment. Especially for something as sacred to us as the gifts of our blood."

"Mmm. Fair." he nibbled downward, just catching the exposed flesh of her breasts. "What would you like? Training in a discipline of my own, perhaps?"

She purred slightly as his mouth found sensitive flesh, then smiled again.

"I said to make me an offer. I'm quite happy to negotiate with you."

Another kiss to her exposed skin. "Mmm. Very well. I offer you equal training in the Art of Presence."

She shivered again at the touch of his mouth.

"Very well, Mister White. It will be done."

"Splendid." the kisses continued. "Now. Does my first lesson require clothes?"

She blinked, and then laughed.

"Probably easier to not have them, actually."

"Mmm." his hands slid up her legs. "Show me."

She put her hands over his as he slid them up her thighs. Gently, she leaned over, her forehead pressing lightly to his.

"Close your eyes," she whispered, brushing her hands over his face gently. Heightening her own senses, she smiled.

"Feel your blood. Let it course to your fingertips. To your ears and eyes, to your tongue."

She took his hand, brushing it over her thighs. Then lifted it, to where the dress still covered her, the fabric of the dress rough against his fingertips.

"Then tell me what you feel."

He obeyed, smiling the entire time. When she finally asked him, he was still smiling, but he took her seriously.

"I feel the fabric, the threads, the fibers. I feel the hint of your skin beneath."

She smiled, then slid his hand beneath the dress, to run along her skin there. There were the scars, of course, but there was also the soft hair of her lower belly, before the bare pubic bone just below.

"And now?" she asked, her other hand still gently touching his face. Her fingertips at his eyes, making sure they were closed. "Enhance your sense of touch. Use your blood to push a bit more."

"Mmm. I feel your skin. Soft. But I can feel the broken tissues. The scars."

She pressed his fingertips more firmly, so that he could feel the hardened tissue beneath. Then she slid his hand ever lower.

"And now?" she whispered, shivering just slightly due to the intimacy of where he now touched.

He mused. "I feel your most tender flesh. Here, I can make you moan, quiver or even break."

She seemed to smile, but her voice remained steady.

"What else?"

He could feel every fold, every brush of skin. Rougher in some areas, more smooth in others. And as the Setite began his exploration, he realized that he could feel things differently. He could feel even the most subtle of changes in the texture of skin and cloth.

"Ahhh... I see. I can feel it." he sighed. "It is your pleasure, but I can feel so much."

She shivered with his touch, a soft purring sound deep in her throat.

"What can you hear?"

"Desire." he grinned.

She smiled, leaning over to rest her head against his shoulder. Slowly, she slid closer to him on his lap.

"See? It's a simple talent, Mister White."

"Mmm. You are a delightful teacher."

(OOC: Do I have enough to buy Auspex 1?)

She laughed as she slid even more closely to him. She ran a hand through his hair in an almost affectionate manner.

"Only for you. Most people say I'm a bitch."

(OOC: Yep)

He laughed. "Who would say these things?"

She laughed, a pleasant sound of delight.

"Anyone who tries to manipulate me into teaching them something. So much easier to just broach the subject than trying to make me think it's my idea. Because it's never my idea."