soundoftheseas | DIAMARI CATCHALL

Mari leans forward, and Dia suddenly feels dreadfully, helplessly trapped. She leans all the way back on the sofa, until her shoulders dig into the backrest and her chin sinks into her neck, but those mere few inches of space offer no real escape from Mari and her... mammaries.

She could not possibly pretend to keep her cool. But then, why should she! When Mari is shamelessly participating in such wretched debauchery!

"You--" It takes her a moment to remember to form words, and another moment to refocus her eyes on Mari's face-- "You are being horrifically inappropriate right now! At least allow yourself a shred of decency out of basic self-respect!" She reaches forward, grabbing the robe's collar and yanking it closed. Even her hands are sweaty already, and her face is red down to the base of her throat. "Unbelievable!"

It takes everything Mari has not to burst out laughing at Dia's reaction; she expected her to lose face at the sight, but this is on another level entirely! She'll have to keep this in mind later, but...needless to say, with Dia freaking out like this, Mari's smile is just sickeningly sweet.

"Oh my, Dia, my impatient angel, so forward... To think you would grab at my robe at a time so passionately, like this! I had figured I got under your skin a little bit, but I had no idea I did that well..."

Unbelievable is certainly the best word here; she's playing dumb, clearly, and the look in her eyes is coy as can be. She runs her palms down Dia's arms before letting her hands settle at her wrists...

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about, but, if you wanted to stay close, you could have just said so...we are a couple now, so it's not like I have anything to hide from you, if you wanted to see so badly..."

Completely ignoring the fact that she just closed it tighter--

Edited 2017-03-26 20:33 (UTC)

Dia's fists clench firmer, pulling the robe's two halves so tightly together that it might or might not begin to strain against Mari's neck. And her stare's burning a hole in the wall to her left for good measure, just to be double, extra-safe.

"I wish to see nothing, you lecher! I can't believe you'd sooner expose yourself than admit defeat!"

--Well. It's Mari. If anyone would, in fairness, it's her. Still! The gall! The obscenity!

Ah, as cute as this is, it's getting a little bit harder to breathe here; it might be hard with Dia's grasp so tight, but, maybe she can pull her robe a little bit looser with her grip on Dia's hands?

"Darling, darling honestly, there's no need to play hot and cold like this...you were the one who put your hands on me first here, so why are you insisting on being resilient like this? You already have your victory, and this is a very funny way of claiming your reward..."

Though, playing the fool can only get her so far, here. If Dia won't look at her, she'll make her look at her; her hand moves to Dia's cheek, pushing her head over to meet her gaze.

"But you really don't want to see any of me? Nothing at all? There's nothing lecherous about it if love is involved, right?"

Dia's heart jumps at the enforced eye contact, lodging itself in her throat. It makes her voice come out weaker than she'd like -- odd and raspy.

"Quit it," she mutters, shifting uneasily against the sofa when there's no further back left to go. Her eyes wander as far as they're able, catching on an indistinct point on Mari's brow, the edge of her bangs, her collarbone.

"You're clearly just doing this to get a reaction, so cut it out. You're not a child."

"I'm doing it to get a little bit more than that. Look at me, Dia. Guardami."

After all, if it was just a reaction she was looking for, she could have stopped the second Dia leaped up to close her robe. There's something else she's after, here, and when Dia moves back against the sofa, Mari takes it as her chance to close in once more. Pushed back like this, Dia's still a coffee table away, and to walk around it would make her lose her prime positioning.

No choice but to step over it, then, if she wants to get closer. She takes care not to knock over the tea she just put down, but she starts with her knees, which at least gives her the advantage of covering up those stupid pamphlets, but, more importantly, puts herself just a head higher that Dia. If her eyes were on Mari's collarbone before, her view just got a bit lower.

"I think you're the one being a little childish, here. You should be a teensy bit more honest with your lover, don't you think..?"

Something in Dia's stomach yields and caves. It is so, so very hard to say no to Mari -- always, but especially so when she's towering over her like this, and when her voice drops low just so.

Dia's base instinct demands to look, and to touch, but she's in over her head and it's getting harder and harder to breathe. She doesn't know how she ended up here but her hands and knees are trembling, and she's almost queasy with nerves.

"F-fine," she mutters out, angling her chin up to meet Mari's eyes despite the strain of it. "If I'm being honest, then I don't want to be doing this." She says it clearly, sharply, even though her voice trembles at the end. "Not like this. Not-- when you still won't kiss me."

...Ah. She was having so much fun teasing her poor Dia, but, a reaction like this...it never fails to get her heart racing. She had just been so set on toying with her, on making her work for this, but in actuality, she's far more of a bleeding heart than that. A little too much of a bleeding heart, because Dia's flustered face and stern admission that slowly tapers off into hesitance...

It's just so Dia. And as much as Dia can't say no to Mari, it's very, very difficult for Mari not to spoil Dia rotten, especially not when, all of a sudden, she's giving her this face and so discombobulated that she can't even look at Mari.

Oh, she loves this, she loves her, Mari can't help but inch closer still and caress Dia's (her Dia's, this beautiful, radiant, precious fragolina is all hers) cute little pink cheeks--

"If what you want is a kiss from me, Dia, I'll give you a million of them. And you know me, my love, I'll start counting."

She knows it's caving. She'll take the loss here, too. It's hardly a loss, anyway; when she gets in close like this and finally, finally lays her lips on Dia's after what felt like centuries of a drought, there's no such thing as losing, in her eyes.

"Did you want them like this..."

Her first kiss to her is just a peck on the lips; it's a kiss, certainly, and it's not quite done in a hurry, but, there's no way Dia will be satisfied after just that, and she knows it...

"...Or, like this?"

She gets a little bit more into the second one; her hand reaches to cradle the back of Dia's head and grab at her hair again, but rather than rough, she's trying to be as ginger as she can. Even when she slips Dia a bit of tongue, it isn't as though she tries to force her way into her mouth; it's a slow, amorous kiss, one where every motion and slight angle change is deliberate and intentional, so there's no fear that their teeth will clash into each other or they'll be too stiff.

She imagines Dia likes that one, more.

"Mmn--"

A cotton-cloud of relief disperses within Dia's chest as soon as Mari's lips meet hers, melting the anxiety away. She clutches her shoulders, tighter at the second kiss -- submerging herself in the feeling, in the glowing-warm comfort that is Mari.

God, she needed this.

She sighs deeply when they pull apart, for relief and loss of breath both. But her lungs feel lighter, now. Her knees not so shaky.

"... That," she answers after a beat, eyelashes fluttering, a little hazy from the kiss still. Another brief pause as Dia settles, followed by: "And get off the table, please. You'll knock the tea over."

"But I like being a little taller than you, Dia! I think it's cute..."

Still, she can't deny that it would be a bit nicer to sit next to her, rather than stay up here and potentially break the table in half from all of the weight she's putting on it, so she obliges, with weak knees and bright red lower legs.

But plopping down next to Dia on the couch has its own rewards; she gets to wrap her arms around her and grip at her blouse, and feel the warmth of her body before she moves in for another kiss. Now that they're closer, she can move her hands all over Dia's body; past her shoulderblades, down her sides, around her waist and back up again...

It's pretty simple, really. She just...touches Dia the way she would like to be touched, is all.

"So, while you're being honest, how bad did I have you going, for real? You looked like you were ready to pop..."

Dia can answer between kisses, if she likes; after all, presumably, even once this one is over, there are still 999,997 to go.

"Quiet," Dia mumbles against her mouth, even as a particular curl of fingers against her side sends her shivering. She nips at Mari's lower lip in retribution, one hand cupping her chin. "That was cheating."

"That's not how I remember it...if I recall, the only rule was that I couldn't leave marks..." Still, Dia trying to give her a taste of her own medicine like this...all it does is make Mari's breath hitch. "Moving the goalposts isn't very fair of you. If I really wanted to cheat, I could have done something like this..."

When she kisses her again, her hands find their way inside her blouse; she noticed that little quiver when her hands ran down her side, but now they find their way to bare skin, her short fingernails softly running up her torso...before, just below her ribs, they settle on tickling her; not long enough to send poor Dia into a giggling fit, but enough to show her that she knows she's sensitive there.

It's the first touch of skin to skin, and it instantly makes Dia's stomach cave, sends goosebumps spreading down her arms even before Mari's fingertips find their purpose. And when they do-- it happens too fast for Dia to brace herself, and a high-pitched squeal flitters past her throat as her whole body curls in. Too, too strong a reaction for such fleeting contact. She knows that. She's sure Mari loves that.

This is where she should protest, where she should tell Mari no. But with Mari's hands on her bare skin, so skillfully and effortlessly exploiting her weak spots, it's-- hard.

And maybe Dia doesn't really want to.

She doesn't have it in her to tell Mari 'stop', and God knows she doesn't have it in her to tell Mari 'more'. So in the end, all the reaction Dia's capable of is staring down at her knees in red-faced silence, fingers clinging to the fabric of Mari's robe.

The second the sound leaves Dia's lips, Mari's grin gets wide. Such a huge sound from such a simple touch! And Dia's right, Mari doesn't just love it; now she's determined to hear it again and again.

"You are just the cutest..."

She knows she might be getting a little carried away here, but if it means hearing Dia make that adorable squawk again, to her, it's absolutely worth it. Dia curls up like a porcupine on the couch, but Mari lunges in closer to meet her, moving to nibble at her collarbone while she's distracted by whatever's so interesting on her knee.

Her hands are making their way around to her back, and she's tracing along the curvature of Dia's spine with her fingertips. She'll get a reaction like that from her Dia a second time if it kills her.

Dia, much to her own mortification, is no trouble to squeeze more such noises out of. She bites down on her lower lip, but the strained little giggle-whines reverberate through her throat, only barely. The brush of Mari's fingertips rakes shivers down her body, settling at the pit of her belly; Dia's thighs shift and squeeze together in attempt to accommodate the sensation.

It's a deadlock: a perfect, impossible balance of humiliation and pleasure. Her pride is rejecting it, twisting uselessly away from Mari's fingertips, while everything else about Dia wants to lay itself down before Mari and just let her. Let her reach in to grab the weakness she can't show anywhere else by the fistfuls, and drag it to the surface.

Dia's already quivering this much. It feels good. It feels petrifying. It feels good.

"M-Mari-san," she shakily forms her name. Like she's begging, without knowing what for.

Mari can't help but start chuckling to herself between kisses, straining to keep her lips puckered because she's smiling much too hard. The adorable sounds that Dia is so embarrassed of, that she's trying so hard to keep stifled, are like music to Mari's ears, and hearing her name is almost an ego trip, a sign that she's pushing all the right buttons.

She takes it as her cue to keep going. Even if Dia looks so bashful right now, one look makes it obvious that she's enjoying the feeling of her skin against hers. She'll wring this out for all its worth, and then some.

Mari can feel her chest start to pound a little bit faster; as prideful as Dia is, Mari knows how delicate she can be, so she doesn't quite want to misstep; she wonders if she's getting ahead of herself here, but, she knows for a fact that Dia will tell her (in no uncertain terms) if she goes too far. And when it comes to her beloved, it's better to gingerly work her way up to that line, rather than blitz right to it. Especially when the process of finding her way to it is leaving her this breathless.

The tips of her nails glide down to Dia's waistline and around her hips, and her hands reach back around to Dia's front to take hold of the hem of her blouse. She backs off from her collarbone and slides back on the sofa, to position herself at Dia's belly; delicately, gradually, she lifts the garment up to expose her tummy, planting kiss after kiss as she works her way up. Unlike before, the intent isn't to tease or to torture; her kisses here are even, slow, sensual. Almost careful.

Dia's awkward when it comes to touching. She never had the penchant Kanan and Mari had for it, always snuggling up to her like it's the most natural thing in the world. She's grown into it as the years passed, coming to accept and even initiate hugs with much greater ease, but... those were hugs. And this, with Mari, is on a completely different level.

She always ends up making herself nervous. Like: she shouldn't do that, it's too forward, too crude, and what if Mari doesn't like it, what if Mari laughs. Or: what is she supposed to do when Mari's touching her, like right now-- just lie back and take it? It feels odd not to reciprocate in some way, but it's not like she really could in this position, and...

Ugh. Her heart's pounding again. Mari's lips on her belly certainly aren't helping -- she can feel her muscles tense beneath her touch, so gentle but thorough, almost maddening, but... nice.

Gingerly, Dia places a hand at the back of Mari's head. Brushes at her hair with her fingertips. She wants... to tell her, at least.

"That feels," she swallows, "--good."

Dia can't quite see it, with Mari's head still buried in her belly, but she'll certainly feel that sharp exhale against her midriff as Mari lets out a breath she barely registered holding in. Mari was waiting for a go-ahead before she went much further, but praise is a different story altogether, and the words of approval are enough to make her toes curl inward and her stomach flutter. It's a good thing she's hiding how red she's getting, too; for some reason, she wants to come off more smoothly, holding her position of power here, but even she can't help but feel herself getting hot under the color when Dia runs her hand through her frizzled locks (and with all of the darting around she's been doing, it's no wonder her hair's gotten so messy).

Still, she takes the compliment as a sign to move forward. She only allows herself to let out a ragged "hold still" before she moves the blouse up further along her torso, planting more kisses in the wake of the pullover. Her breathing is heavier now; between kisses, the sound of their labored exhales echoes through the spacious suite, but that's the only sign of exhaustion Mari shows; she's not slowing down, even a little bit. Not when she has such a good pace going...

As the pullover rides up to Dia's chest, and her bra is exposed, the only thing louder to Mari from her current positioning than the sound of their winded breaths is the sound of Dia's heartbeat, a jackhammer that sounds ready to burst at any moment. Of course Dia has jitters, she realizes, and Mari has her share as well, but, she certainly doesn't want to rush her into this, and she certainly doesn't want to frighten her.

Before she makes her next move and the shirt comes off, she pushes herself back up, to kiss Dia's lips once again. She remembers how much less tense Dia became, only just a few minutes ago, when she kissed her sensually for the first time that night; she hopes this will calm her down again, at least a bit.

"Just relax," she whispers between quick breaths. "I've got you. Trust me."

Dia's heart dips, then flutters, and she sinks into the kiss. It's a sweet, gooey feeling, like honey pooling in her chest -- Mari, uncontainable force of nature that she is, being so quiet and careful with her.

And she's cute. With her cheeks flushed and her hair all sticking out. Dia's eyes crinkle with fondness as she smoothes the errant locks down, before pulling Mari into another, deeper kiss.

"Of course I trust you," she breathes once she's pulled away, bumping their foreheads lightly together.

Edited 2017-04-14 08:02 (UTC)

"...Say it again? I don't know if I caught it the first time..."

The look on her face tells a different story; the coquettish smirk on her lips is tugging at her dimples on her bright red face, and she looks like the cat that got the cream, like she's reveling in this. And she is. There's all the encouragement she needs to slip the blouse right off, over Dia's neck and right off her arms. It tousles her straight hair, but Mari hardly cares; she looks hotter like that, and besides, her focus isn't quite there, regardless.

There's another kiss as Mari's hands go on another adventure down Dia's arms, her fingertips "walking" past her elbows, up her forearms, all the way to her shoulders. Whether she's making it more sensual or being a bit more of a tease by taking the whole thing so damn slowly, by turning it into this production, is probably up for debate, but she figures Dia won't complain about a brief little shoulder massage mid-kiss...at least, if only so she'll be a bit more buttered up when Mari's right hand slides right down her back to the hook of her bra.

She makes sure her hand lingers at the spot before she takes it off. It shouldn't take her this long to slide the clasp away from the hook, but she really is taking it so slowly--

"It's not too late to take back what you said earlier about mine, you know."

Dia's shoulders rise beneath Mari's fingertips, twitching a bit at that odd idea of a massage. That girl, always goofing around at the least appropriate times... though with that being said, it doesn't exactly feel bad, either, so Dia ends up holding her tongue.

Until directly provoked, at least.

"It's not taking it back," she huffs, maintaining certainty in her voice even while keenly aware of her own bareness. Her cheeks are slightly pink, is all. "It's only natural that this change in circumstances would affect my decision. This situation is completely incomparable to the one before, and so I'd hardly say--"

Exhale. Even Dia doesn't quite have it in her to see it through. It occurs to her that the longer she goes on like this, the longer Mari will spend this intolerable fiddling with the clasp. There is strength, wise men say, to picking your battles.

"--Yes. Take it off."

"Only because you asked me so nicely."

Typical Dia, she can't help but laugh, to get caught up in a tirade even when she's topless...but she's all to eager to finally slip the hook through the metal clip. She looks like a kid about to open a present on Christmas morning as she finally, finally takes the bra right off and...

Ah. So this is what Dia's chest looks like. Sure, she's put her hands on her breasts enough times that she's memorized the contours of them through touch alone, fondled them from behind more times than she can count on everyone in Aqours's hands put together, but this is her first time actually laying eyes on them. She doesn't want to stare, honestly, and ruin the good streak she's been having, but she can't help herself. They're...well, there's no need to dance around the fact that they're beautiful, inviting as can be; modest, yes, but practically begging for her to put her hands on them, for her to kiss them until Dia makes those marvelous sounds again--

"They're perfect," she mutters, more to herself than anyone else. She's actually engrossed in the sight of them, God help her, this part of Dia that she's never seen before until now. She's only dimly aware of her hands making a beeline to take them into her palms; she's practically hyperfocused as she leans down to take one into her mouth, to rub and clasp at one of them while she holds the other to her lips and roll over the tip of it with her tongue.

Dia's flush deepens, momentarily flabbergasted by the reaction to her exposed breasts -- perfect, really? -- but the next moment it's already the last thing on her mind, because Mari is groping and squeezing and licking, oh god that's her tongue--

A squeal slips through Dia's throat as a hot shudder rakes her spine, and she plants a hand against Mari's forehead, shoving her back.

"S-s-s-slow down! Ugh, geez-- l-learn some restraint!"

"Ah..!" The palm of Dia's hand against her forehead pushes her right off (shame, too, just as she was starting to get into it!), and she comes right off of her nipple with a wet pop. Her hands are still fixed in place, but at the very least, she has the sense to stop rubbing. Still, she looks up at her with a pout; okay, so she might have gotten a little carried away there, compared to her snail's pace from before, but...

"How do you expect me to contain myself, Dia?! When you've been hiding such amazing treasures from me for all of these years! I always knew that your chest was lovely, but to think you were holding out on me with these!"

Sure, they're not Kanan's, but they're perfectly respectable in their own right; the shape is marvelous, they fit so snugly in her hand, there's even a cute little beauty mark...

"I'll take it slower, okay, my delicate fiorellina?"

Having Mari speak of her chest like that certainly isn't helping the wildfire spreading from Dia's cheeks to her collarbone, dyeing even the top of her breasts pink. Goodness gracious, she's embarrassing. What's even worse is that Dia, despite herself, actually feels a little flattered.

But anyway, that's-- that's beside the point!

"Hold it!" The hand at Mari's forehead pulls back, only to flick her right between the eyebrows. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Dia grabs at the collar of her robe, now, voice steadying with her demand. "I said I wanted you to take this off."

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