mugging

The club night was going well, and had been very much worth the effort required to get dressed up for it. Emma adjusted her collar slightly, the soft blue glow giving her light complexion an almost ethereal quality. Tonight had been about trying something a bit different, and the new Cyberpunk HoloHall in town had seemed ideal. Full five dimensional displays, DanceTech music, all very cutting edge. Still the drinks were cheap and the outfits were, well, amazing.



Taking another sip of her drink Emma looked around again, marvelling at the effort that had been put into some of the clothes. Her own was a fairly simple affair, silvery strips of steel gliding over supple black leather, hugging her figure but not strangling it. Blue lights were interspersed between the metal, subtle enough to accentuate her paleness without blinding anyone. Her stomach was exposed, pleasantly free so she could move more easily as she danced, and her boots, while high on her legs, were not the intimidating blocks that others were sporting. The theme of elegance prevailed, and she had been delighted when the last touches had been made to her eye shadow. Several men had already shown definite interest, as well as several women. It was one of these such ladies that had bought her the drink, and Emma turned back to her with a smile on her face.



Time passed on, the music almost alive in her senses, playing on her synapses, making her slowly writhe as she sat, swaying to the beat of the club. The lady had sadly turned out to be about as bright as a singularity, and with morals to match. Polite excuses had been made, and the woman had moved on to the nearby techhead before Emma had even finished. She decided to go outside for a breath of air, maybe it would help her cool off a bit as well.



The wintry air hit her as she stepped outside, and the sharp contrast brought a smile back to her face. She enjoyed winter, at least for short periods, and snow did have a sort of magical quality to it in its virgin state. She ran her fingers across the top of a wall, giggling internally at what such innocent snow might think about her stroking, and laughing at herself for thinking such silly thoughts. She was about to go back inside when something caught her ear. A sharply suppressed sound, one that chills in a way that mere cold never can. She sprinted in its direction.



Rounding the corner she instantly assessed the scene. A hooded figure was being pressed up against the wall, a couple of thugs with knives holding her tightly. Their clothes spoke of a couple of greasy rich-kids with so much money they could do anything. And often would. She leapt towards them, and the toe of her boot caught the nearest on the side of the knee, a quiet crunch informing everyone of the result. He went down with a cry, whimpering and clutching at his knee, landing heavily in the snow around. His friend turned, lunging with the blade, his pinprick pupils evidence of the drugs coursing through his system. There was a spark, and Emma felt the grinding impact as the edge deflected off one of the decorative steel strips in her top. His thrust not having connected, the man was off-balance, and Emma swung wildly, her life flashing before her as her fist connected through sheer force of desperation. He was throw off his feet, pole-axed by the unexpected force. As his head hit the street he was knocked out cold, his scalp split and bleeding onto the disturbed snow.



Breathing quickly and in shallow gasps Emma gradually came back to herself. As her eyes refocused she became aware of the woman’s soft cries. She had sunk down the wall, weeping in fear and pain, covering her face as if she cold hide from what was happening. Emma knelt down in the cold, and spoke to her gently, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.



“Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”



The woman nodded, and as she did her hood slipped down, revealing her long black hair that still didn’t cover the pointed ears that told of her race. Suddenly, it all made much more sense. Elves were seen as being easy whores, promiscuous and defenceless, and so they were often preyed upon. And the tales of elven beauty were all true; not a blemish marked her perfect skin, and even the tears streaming down her face couldn’t change that, each one a drop of diamond flowing from a hidden mountain spring.



The elf didn’t respond, and by Emma knew that she must be getting colder by the moment. Looks aside, their race did not retain heat well, and winter was never kind to them. She managed to coax the shivering elf to her feet, guiding her slowly towards her car, delivering a snap kick to the groaning thug that blew the wind out of him completely. They made it to her vehicle, and she helped her companion into the passenger seat, buckling her in. She jogged around the car and hopped in, programming it to head for home. As they took off she caught one last glimpse of the two men in the alley, and grimaced. Their sort could pay their way out of anything, and she wasn’t about to be arrested for messing up their hair.



By the time she had arrived home the elf seemed to be a little more aware, the heaters in the car doing their work well. As they landed she had looked around, confused, with flashes of recollection flitting across her face. As Emma helped her out of the car again, she had clasped her arms around her, crying again, the situation all too much.



“Thank you. I couldn’t… I…”



“No need to thank me. Come on, you’re frozen, and you need a hot bath to help you recover. My home’s just here.”



The elf nodded slightly, a tentative smile crossing her features. But her shaking hands and chattering teeth spoke the truth of Emma’s suggestion, and she slowly followed her up the stairs to the front door. They entered, and Emma went to run the bath. With it filling she returned, helping her guest off with her coat to allow the heating to have better effect without having to fight a snow-cooled jacket. Emma couldn’t help but admire the figure that was revealed. Her clothes almost flowed over her, every bit of it an example of perfection, of living poetry. Her hair lay over her shoulders, and even her recent shock hadn’t disturbed a single hair. Emma blinked and mentally shook herself, hanging the coat up to dry. Turning back to her guest she saw the elf looking very small and afraid, and Emma moved to embrace her in comforting warmth.



“It’s alright, they won’t hurt you. You’re safe here with me.”



She felt faint relief, but it was still overshadowed by the elf’s shivers. Emma took her gently but firmly and lead her through to the bathroom. The bath had filled and she shut off the water, steam rising from its surface. Her companion’s fingers were too numb still, and so she helped her out of her clothes, piling them on a chair. There were fewer than expected, and she realised that at least this elf didn’t seem to concern herself with such things as a bra. Blushing slightly and trying to conceal her attraction Emma left the room.



“There’s plenty of towels and a bathrobe behind the door that you can use. I’ll just be in the lounge, let me know when you’re done, but don’t feel you have to rush at all. Get warmed up. I’m Emma by the way.”



“E-Elanril.”



Emma closed the door, and heard the water splash a little as Elanril slipped into the bath. She headed upstairs and stripped off her outfit, noting the deep score the knife had left in her bodice. Just a bit higher though… It didn’t bear thinking about. She slipped into her pyjamas and dressing gown and went to make up the couch. Her guest could borrow the bed for the night, and in the morning she’d be able to get home safely. That done, she took her bookpad downstairs again, and flopped onto the sofa to read it.



The sounds of swirling water continued for quite a long time, and Emma found her mind wandering from the words in front of her to the elf in her bath. She had been so beautiful, so slender… even the glimpses she had seen before averting her eyes had been almost pure allure. Despite herself she started to let her imagination tease her. Imagining those smooth fingertips gliding…



The click of the bathroom door brought Emma sharply back to herself, and she looked up with a smile as Elanril emerged. The white bathrobe was a bit too short for her, revealing maybe a bit more of her legs than might have been intended. Emma found herself feeling a little too warm as her new friend approached.



“Feeling better?”



“Much better, thank you again for taking such good care of me. And this robe is so fluffy and comfortable, you have really lovely things. Thank you.”



As she finished these last words Elanril beamed, and placed a warm kiss onto Emma’s lips. As she pulled back Emma’s mind was racing, her heart pounding in her chest. What had just happened? Was it an elf thing? She couldn’t remember all their customs, this could be one of them. Yes! No. Maybe? She tripped over her words.



“It’s, er, totally fine. I, ah, need to have a shower myself. You can take my bed, it’s upstairs. On your right. If you’re hungry help yourself to food. I need to go and have a bath, I’ll be back soon.”



With this words she fled to the bathroom, closing the door behind her and leaning against it for a moment. Just a custom. Just a simple kiss. One that had made her go weak at the knees, and had taken everything in her power not to respond to. Okay, time for her own bath, and time to calm down and unwind.



By the time she had run and slipped into the hot water Emma had managed to return her thoughts to something approaching normal again. The bath relaxed her further, and as she soaped herself she allowed her thoughts to wander again. It had been a very nice evening, aside from the obvious, and Elanril was lovely. And soft. And with sleek, pert breasts, that she just wanted to worship with her lips and tongue, hearing her elf sigh in pleasure as she…



Eventually Emma finished her bath, her mind far away, and as she dried herself off and donned her robe again she completely forgot that she had entered the room with pyjamas. Opening the door quietly in case Elanril was already asleep upstairs, she was slightly surprised to find the elf still there, spread out on the sofa, having apparently borrowed her bookpad. The way she was lying left the bathrobe covering even less than before, her long legs going all the way up, the soft fabric just barely covering what lay above. Just.



Elanril looked up from the story, smiling.



“Feeling better?”



Emma realised the way the scene had reversed itself, and in that moment remembered her discarded clothes. Now they were even more alike, each solely clad in a white robe, the last few droplets of water still drying on their skin. There was almost nothing to come between them, nothing at all.



“Much better thanks. Enjoying the book?”



“Mmmm, it’s one I’ve got on my shelf. Kept meaning to read it, but never did. Could I ask you for a drink?”



“Of course!”



She went to fix them both something, and after a couple more questions a small glass of wine before bed seemed ideal. She poured some of the dark liquid into two glasses, bringing them across. She passed one to Elanril, before sitting down beside her.



“Cheers.”



As they drank their legs touched, and Emma could feel the heat that flowed between them. As she put her glass down and licked her lips, she found her eyes drawn, and she looked at her partner, who was looking back with the same expression. The belt of her robe had loosened, and a delicate nipple was visible, its firmness brushing against the fabric. As she drew her gaze up again something passed between them, and their thoughts intertwined. Elanril’s fingers slipped between Emma’s, and she drew her host’s hand up and placed it on her pale neck. Then her hand drifted to Emma’s cheek, and she drew them together, their lips meeting for their second kiss of the night.



This one went on for much longer, their lips moving with each other, their tongues tentatively meeting, experiencing fleeting glimpses of each other. Slowly their hands began to move, fingertips stroking, playing lightly across skin. Emma’s moved down her elf’s chest, the backs of her fingers stroking, and she brushed the white robe a little further aside. Her motions were soft, slow. She cupped Elanril’s breast, and ran her thumb over the small nipple there, hearing her companion’s soft exhalation in response. Without words Emma’s lips moved, descending, closing onto the soft flesh, sucking gently, her tongue swirling. She could both hear and feel her elf’s pleasure, her fingers seeking Emma’s own desires.



The robes were both soon slipped away, even their minimal covering too much, and the two women revelled in each other, both beautiful to their partner. Emma’s kisses ranged further afield, flowing over the smooth elven skin. She felt Elanril’s hand on her shoulder, pushing her back into the sofa, and felt the long black hair slipping lower. Closing her eyes she leant back, sensing warm breath hovering over her thighs. Her legs spread just a bit wider almost by themselves, and when she felt Elanril’s flexible tongue stroking up between her legs she couldn’t contain herself. A loud moan of pleasure came from her, and she arched her back wanting to be consumed by her elfin lover. The tongue delved deeper and she parted her legs even more, wanting it so much. The heat was intense, and she couldn’t stop herself from running her fingers through the hair below her, pulling Elanril against her wet pussy, needing more. She felt it plunge deeper, licking, exploring, writhing, the burning lips sucking and teasing. Emma bit her lip, another wave of pleasure bringing another moan, her own tongue reaching out in lust.



The pressure within her built, and as she opened her eyes to look down she saw her own lust mirrored in Elanril’s face. She knew the elf’s fingers were plunging into her own pussy, her moans suppressed by her feasting. This knowledge along with the thrusting tongue and searing lips drove her over the edge, and she crashed into the raging torrent of her release. And in that moment her raw lust, fingers entwined in Elanril’s hair, holding her tight against her pussy, until the tide ebbed and she could again breathe.



Releasing her elf, Emma came to properly, gazing down. Elanril looked up, and from her expression it was clear that her desperately vigorous fingers had found their prize, and as she crawled up for another kiss, Emma could feel her wetness pressed against her. They kissed for a long time, the seconds each another wonder, until finally Emma pulled back. She rose, extending her hand to Elanril, helping her up. Then she lead her up the stairs, their bare feet padding on the wood, and then into her room. They both slid into bed, the sheets cool, nuzzling together and becoming one tangled pile of contentment. Then, very slowly, their fingertips began to explore…

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