Gloves

Well… Y’see, the problem is… Paine’s gloves. Well, they’re not the problem, per se, the problem is Rikku’s fixation on them. But they’re becoming a serious problem, because Rikku is getting seriously distracted by the damn things. She nearly let a fiend get her the other day, because Paine was holding her sword in that oh-so-provocative way she has. So Rikku decides to remove temptation in the most logical way she can think of; she’ll give in.

So when Paine is taking a shower one day, Rikku steals them. She stuffs them into the waistband of her skirt and curls up on top of her bed. Yuna is off on the deck and Paine is in the shower, so Rikku has a bit of time to… get to know Paine’s gloves, before she has to put them back. So she slides them on her hands, shivering a bit at the soft leather. She strokes her cheek with one gloved hand, smelling the warm leather-sweat scent, feeling the way the leather sticks to her skin, in that slick way leather has of doing so. She tries to pretend that it isn’t her hand, that it’s Paine’s bigger hand.

Rikku loves Paine’s hands, although she’d rather eat the gloves she is currently wearing then actually say so. She’s rarely seen Paine without them. The idea of actually approaching Paine, the idea of holding her hand, kissing it or… Rikku swallows and shifts to alleviate the pressure between her legs. Tentatively, she kisses the tip of one finger. The angle is wrong, but maybe she can pretend that Paine is sitting behind her? That angle would make more sense, probably. And Rikku won’t have to do bad things to her wrists.

Rikku strokes along her neck, behind her ear, up to her hair, with her left hand. Her right hand stays near her mouth. She kisses the fingertip, then actually envelops the whole thing into her mouth, sucking on the finger. The tips of the finger strokes the top of her mouth, while her finger goes to her scalp, tugging gently at her braids. Ooh, that sends lots of yummy shivers down Rikku’s back, tasty and electric. She releases the finger in her mouth and moves it down, down the long (bare and scarfless) column of her neck, to the sharp points of her collarbones, to the valley between her breasts.

“Ooh, Paine, you’re so forward,” Rikku mumbles, sliding her finger under the string of her bikini. She palms her breast through the bikini, then slips it under, feeling the leather against her nipple. “Why should I let you?” She twists her nipple, hard. “Oh. That’s a good reason.” She closes her eyes and imagines it’s Paine’s hand, imagines she can feel Paine’s warm breath against her cheek, pretends that the hand skating across her belly is Paine’s hand, soft and warm inside of it’s leather glove.

Rikku peeks her eye open to check that nobody is in the cabin except the Barkeep, who is practically deaf and probably wouldn’t blink if Paine bent Rikku over the bar and fucked her within an inch of her life. You gotta love Hypellos for that at least. So mellow. But Rikku’s mind has left the important matter, and that is the fact that there is a gloved hand under her skirt, stroking the soft skin of her inner thigh. “Paine, you shouldn’t!” Rikku murmurs, moving the hand at her breast to her mouth, sucking and nipping at her fingers. “We might get caught…”

Rikku brings the hand between her legs closer and closer, until it is gently stroking her bikini bottoms. She tugs her skirt up a bit, just a bit, to make it easier on her wrist, then slides her panties aside, to stroke along the outside of her pussy gently, oh-so-gently. She also keeps up her imaginary dialogue. “Of course I’m wet,” She mumbles, pressing down on her clit with her thumb. “You’ve got your hand down… Ooh…” She arches her back as a gloved finger strokes her clit harder, enough to make her hips buck. “Do that again,” She groans, moving her other hand from her breast to her hair, tugging and twisting at it.

Rikku isn’t going to enter herself while wearing gloves, she doesn’t think that will be too comfortable. However, she can definitely have a nice rub and grind, enjoy the friction the leather provides. Anyway, she usually doesn’t get off as much on penetration as she does on good old fashion clitoral stimulation. Heck, she usually doesn’t even get off lying on her back; her preferred method is on her belly, her knees propped up and her ass in the air. But she doesn’t think that would work with her current fantasy, and anyway, she keeps meaning to try new things anyway, so why not now?

The glove in Rikku’s hair goes back to her mouth, where she sucks two fingers, rasping at them with her tongue. She imagines Paine’s expression, tries to guess what Paine would do. Maybe she would curl her fingers to stroke the roof of Rikku’s mouth, while the thumb of her other hand would rhythmically press down on Rikku’s clit, hard enough to make Rikku’s legs jerk. Rikku thinks that Paine is kyo, although she doesn’t actually have any proof. But look at her! The way she talks, the way she moves, even the way she sits, all of them practically scream “I prefer my partners to have their naughty bits on the inside”! And if Paine is as kyo as Rikku thinks she is, then she would know exactly what t would take to please a woman. Especially a woman like Rikku, because this is Rikku’s fantasy, damn it all, and in Rikku’s fantasy, the object of her fantasy knows just what to do to make Rikku’s toes curl.

Rikku groans around her two fingers, thrusting her hips into the leather gloved hand as she feels her orgasm approach on the horizon. She isn’t exactly hard to stimulate; she has been known to come from riding a motorcycle or a chocobo. If she ever has a real partner, she might get embarrassed by it, but at the moment she is just glad it is easy for her to come (relatively) quickly. Less of a chance of getting caught. So she rubs harder, faster, bucking her hips and biting back her moans, just barely. It feels so good, the way the leather rubs and tugs in so many delicious ways, even as she imagines Paine’s fingers working busily. Would Paine be a biter? Rikku thinks so. But she can’t really bite any part of herself, not from this angle.

When Rikku comes, she lets out a squawk, thankfully muffled by her fingers. She spasms, her hips jerking as her whole body shudders in orgasm. After a few minutes, she is able to move without turning into a billion little itty bitty pieces. She releases the fingers in her mouth and tugs the other hand out of her bikini bottoms. Oh. Well. That was… wetter then usual. A bit nervously, she brings her hand up. Oh. Great. The leather was soaked, practically shiny. While it was a very nice orgasm, Rikku really wasn’t expecting the… excess physical reaction. Ah well. She sits up slowly and feels her various muscles unkink and various bony bits crackle. Hoo, she needed that.

Carefully, cautiously, on little-thief-feet, Rikku sneaks Paine’s gloves back to Paine’s bed, putting them back exactly where she found them. Wouldn’t do for Paine to suspect anything, after all.

When Paine comes out of the shower, all she sees is a slightly rumpled but otherwise normal looking Rikku sitting at her bed, fiddling with something mechanical with a teeny-tiny screwdriver. Everything looks normal.. Which means something is up.

“What?” Rikku catches Paine looking at her.

Paine doesn’t say anything, just goes to grab her clothing. When she gets her gloves, she notices something… odd. She gives one a sniff, then tentatively licks it. Her eyebrow raises.

Rikku sits on her bed and tries to broadcast an aura of complete and utter innocence. It doesn’t work.
“Wash ‘em,” Paine says, and throws the gloves at Rikku.

“What are you talking about?” Rikku asks, quickly.

“Do you want me to spell it out?” Paine’s mouth twitches. “I’d know that particular… smell anywhere.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rikku lies. “You must be imagining things.”

Instead of answering, Paine walks over and unceremoniously reaches between Rikku’s legs, to the spot where she is still wet. She raises an eyebrow at Rikku’s wide eyed expression. “I know this is what you were thinking about,” She says casually, and sniffs. Yep, just like the fluid on the gloves. “Wash ‘em.”

“Or…?” Rikku is in shock. No better way to describe it.

“Or I won’t use ‘em on you.” With that, Paine walks out, leaving Rikku to gape after her and wonder how, exactly, one goes about cleaning leather gloves.