He waved his hand, the flourish somehow managing to beckon and dismiss at the same time. Exquisite lines of tendons and muscles moving beneath flawlessly golden skin. It was her current contemplation of velvet sheathed muscles that had her missing his words and she had to blink reality back into focus as the class came to life in that way that only occurs upon its release. Kinetic movements exploding in different rhythms as the formerly caged students gathered their things in a flurry of motion and departed in short staccato bursts of sound, conversations springing to life as if they'd simply been paused.
Freed from her daydream involving the Master of Enchantment, Ivinia sighed disappointed that she hadn't been able to coax it to its culmination. A silent orgasm amidst a busily studious classroom was one of her favorite hobbies. The thrumming thrill of ecstasy her own private joy and hidden by the recrossing of thighs quivering beneath a uniformed skirt.
She rose from her own settee in a languid stretch that spoke of no rush. An hour between this course of Enchantment and Necromancy gave her just enough time to fully decide upon skipping the next class. There should be some code against having to follow up Enchantment with the magic of the dead and decay.
For a brief moment she let her sultry gaze slide over the Master as he consulted with a novitiate. Maybe she could stay after and finish the daydream in a more physical expression of her extra credit coursework? A step in that direction halted as the word "Ascension" peppered the air.
"Ugh." The groan was heartfelt as she shuddered in distaste. There was no way she was going to get a moment in, not with a line of students desperate to seek encouragement or direction in their bid to make it up the ranks of the school.
She hated this time of the year. The studious only became monks of knowledge and even the party-ers suddenly seemed to remember why they initially enrolled in the Institute.
Sweeping up her book-bag she sauntered through the door with an irritated flounce to her hips that sent the hem of her skirt swishing like the tail of an agitated feline. There was no way she could sit through her Basic Necromancy class after this, even if it were taught by the delectably debonair ElKinid. Such a glorious blending of elven bloodlines that should never have been crossed. She couldn't help but wonder if he made love with the finesse of his grey elven heritage or if he dominated his partner with the fierce cold possessiveness of his drow brethren. The flutter of nether muscles revealed her body's interest in following that train of thought closer.
Maybe she would make it to class after all...
Freed from her daydream involving the Master of Enchantment, Ivinia sighed disappointed that she hadn't been able to coax it to its culmination. A silent orgasm amidst a busily studious classroom was one of her favorite hobbies. The thrumming thrill of ecstasy her own private joy and hidden by the recrossing of thighs quivering beneath a uniformed skirt.
She rose from her own settee in a languid stretch that spoke of no rush. An hour between this course of Enchantment and Necromancy gave her just enough time to fully decide upon skipping the next class. There should be some code against having to follow up Enchantment with the magic of the dead and decay.
For a brief moment she let her sultry gaze slide over the Master as he consulted with a novitiate. Maybe she could stay after and finish the daydream in a more physical expression of her extra credit coursework? A step in that direction halted as the word "Ascension" peppered the air.
"Ugh." The groan was heartfelt as she shuddered in distaste. There was no way she was going to get a moment in, not with a line of students desperate to seek encouragement or direction in their bid to make it up the ranks of the school.
She hated this time of the year. The studious only became monks of knowledge and even the party-ers suddenly seemed to remember why they initially enrolled in the Institute.
Sweeping up her book-bag she sauntered through the door with an irritated flounce to her hips that sent the hem of her skirt swishing like the tail of an agitated feline. There was no way she could sit through her Basic Necromancy class after this, even if it were taught by the delectably debonair ElKinid. Such a glorious blending of elven bloodlines that should never have been crossed. She couldn't help but wonder if he made love with the finesse of his grey elven heritage or if he dominated his partner with the fierce cold possessiveness of his drow brethren. The flutter of nether muscles revealed her body's interest in following that train of thought closer.
Maybe she would make it to class after all...