So much was happening at once, so much she knew not how to comprehend. But was comprehension really the goal here, or lack of? Ophelia was more than happy to sink into bliss and kiss her questions goodbye. There would be plenty of time later, she was sure, for why, what and how, for time was in abundance when one was an unmarried woman. When all was done, she was quite certain that she would have a mountain of questions, and Gianna would sit in her usual way, listen with the patience of a saint, and proceed to explain in a simple manner that did not condescend all that seemed to her so daunting and mysterious.

For now, though, she was not at all concerned by her lack of knowledge, for she was a willing and eager slave to sensation. The fingers of her surrogate delved deep within her, like an intrepid explorer who dared to go where none had ventured before. She was stroked and flicked and teased and licked, caressed and tickled and nipped and sucked. Slowly, she found herself losing all control of her muscles as pleasure seized her in its glorious grasp, prompting her body to writhe and wriggle beneath that of her beautiful surrogate.

Not wanting to accidentally throw the Princess off of her, she had just enough presence of mind to grip one of the posts of the canopy bed as tightly as she could, hoping this would lock her in place. It stilted her movements slightly, but still her body fought her mind. Vaguely, she wondered why she could not simply lay still -- surely that would make things easier? And yet her back insisted on arching, her legs on jerking, her head on tossing from side to side as gasps and groans of every pitch tore from her rosebud lips.

She could feel her body tensing, her sex closing possessively around that precious finger that thrust steadily within her, somehow managing to match, beat for beat, the rhythm of her thrilling heart.

‘Cum for me,’ it was a whisper and a command, but not one she understood. She blinked, her eyes locking on those of her enchanting surrogate. ‘Cum in my mouth.’

She opened her mouth to enquire as to the meaning of this request, wanting to please her beloved in every way she could, but only a soft scream escaped her parted lips, preceded by a series of unintelligible gasps and whispers. Her grip tightened on the bedpost, her back arching, her eyes widening on a final gasp of ecstasy as -- unknown to her -- she did exactly as she was bidden.

She knew not what cumming was, but she felt the hot juice slide from her body, along with a wave of relief. Her entire form relaxed, her muscles loosening as her hand slid instinctively from its coiled position around the post of the bed. She could feel the tongue of the auran-haired temptress lapping hungrily at her juices, savouring the sweet taste of her maidenhood. The finger had been removed now, and it was with warm, eager lips that her darling devoured her, stealing her breath as easily as an expert thief might a precious jewel. No area went untouched, no crevice unexplored. It was a strange sensation, almost ticklish but in a pleasant way. With each stroke of Gianna’s tongue, fresh gooseflesh pimpled her arms. Shivers wracked her fertile frame, but not from cold. She could not say why she was shivering, for she knew nothing of the bodily reactions borne of such wondrous stimulation. Had she, she would have understood that the careful titillation of her bed-fellow had aroused her into a state of sensuous hypersensitivity.

She knew none of this however. She knew not what cum was, nor that the hot liquid that had poured so freely from within her had been that which her friend had solicited, nor that her shivering was not from cold, nor that it was perfectly normal to writhe so violently beneath one’s partner and keen at the softest touch. So, finding her voice -- tremulous and tiny as it was, for her breaths still came in uneven bursts -- she met the warm gaze of her companion once again and endeavoured to phrase her thoughts.

“What...what just happened? Is that supposed to happen?”
‘My beloved…….. this…... great eruption…….. is what awaits you ……..every time you allow me…... to lay you down…...to enjoy your intimates,’ Gianna replied in the voice of Evanthe, never once straying from the role she had sworn to take. As she spoke, she dropped feather-light kisses here and there, drawing more delighted shivers from the beautiful Taengean, who offered a grateful smile to let her know just how thankful she was for this great endeavour of Gianna’s. It could be no easy thing to lay with a person -- woman or man -- as somebody other than yourself, knowing that they saw you through the eyes of an illusion, and took you because of that. Yet Gianna had not hesitated for a moment to do so. In fact, Gianna had been the one to suggest it, to take her in her arms, to whisper sweet nothings as if she truly were Evanthe, and all the while maintain a gentle smile.
‘And the night is far from over.’
“Let it be known that I love you,” she said to them both -- Gianna and Evanthe; her friend and her surrogate. “Never let that be doubted. I love you. I always have, I always will. I would travel to Tartarus and face Lord Hades himself if you ever required it of me; i would take a lightning bolt from Zeus before I let him strike you down; I would sail across a tempest-tossed ocean and risk Poseison’s wrath, were you on the other shore.”
And she would. For both of them, she would. The words were for both girls, and she was hoping Gianna would know that. She clasped the other’s hand momentarily -- the one that had claimed her maidenhood -- and lifted it to her lips, placing a reverential kiss upon it. “You are more dear to me than mere words can express.”

Slowly, her dear one rose onto her haunches, drawing Ophelia’s eye to her every tempting curve. She found herself leaning back again as the beauteous blonde dropped tiny kisses on both innocuous and intimate areas, each eliciting the same delighted reaction. Her eyes glazed, her muscles tensed, her breaths came in short, sharp bursts. The kisses lasted but a moment, and then a hand was offered. Ophelia grasped it immediately, watching as her darling rolled into her back, her feminine form now on full display. With one hand she arranged her golden curls, sweeping them behind her so that they might not interfere with whatever came next, and with the other she tugged lightly on Ophelia’s hand.

‘Sit on my face. Your sweetest Evanthe must have more of her exalted Rose,’ this instruction she found rather alarming. What if Ophelia were to hurt her? Her brows drew together in concern, but before she could express such fears, she found that she was being guided toward her lover, over her. Soon, she found herself astride her dear one, her entrance glistening enticingly above a pair of moist, warm lips. For a moment, her fears were entirely obliterated by the elysian sensation of silken digits roaming her thigh and stroking her stomach before settling on her firm, sensitive breasts.

‘Will you have your Eva continue? Will you let her mouth make love to you again?’ The words were too tantalizing to resist, not that she wished to. Her friend seemed utterly unhurt, though Ophelia knew she weighed little, so she ought not to have been too concerned.
“Yes,” she gasped, caught unprepared by the sudden squeeze of a nipple. “But please, Eva, if my weight becomes too great for you, tell me so, so that you might not be hurt. I am unfamiliar with this position and I know not if it is dangerous for you. I weigh little but I still value your safety more than my pleasure. But yes, if you are comfortable in this way, then I should like nothing more.”