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She always starts with the toes. She doesn’t really have a thing for toes, or feet for that matter, but she likes the order of it. Bottom to top. Fleur had giggled the first time, but now just lays back quietly with a smile on her face, and enjoys Tonks’ attention.
Tonks moves on to the top of Fleur’s feet, kissing one foot gently while massaging the other. When she comes to the ankles, she gives them two quick licks. She always thought Fleur should try an ankle bracelet. Maybe she should go ahead and buy one for her for Christmas.
Before she moves on to the calves, she reaches for the vial of oil, and pours some over Fleur. She loves this part, because it’s the perfect crescendo to her favorite part. She takes her time massaging every inch she can reach, turning Fleur around just slightly to reach underneath her legs, then dropping them gently back onto the towel. She makes sure it’s not just for show, that she’s massaging the well-toned muscles. When she reaches where Fleur’s legs meet her crotch, she pauses, only her thumbs moving up and down on Fleur’s upper thighs. She’s tempted - she always is - to simply skip the rest and kiss Fleur where it’s the most fun to do so, but she doesn’t. This isn’t about that, not yet anyway.
She nudges Fleur, who gracefully turns around, allowing Tonks to continue her work on her back. Tonks doesn’t spend too long on her beautiful buttocks, merely covers them in oil and admires them before moving on. There’s not too much serving she can do to them short of licking in between them, and that can’t happen yet. She needs to continue her work.
Fleur had been astounded when Tonks had first done this. Taken the better part of an hour to just touch and massage Fleur. That’s how she’d worded it, anyhow. And if that’s all it had been, Fleur would have been right: Tonks doesn’t have the patience for that. She doesn’t have the patience for most things. Black quirk, she reckons. They’re like sharks, always on the move. Sitting still doesn’t come naturally.
But this isn’t sitting still. As Tonks gets on Fleur’s back - without touching her with anything but her hands - she thinks about how far this is from sitting still. No, this is active. This stimulates her in multiple ways at the same time. She pushes one hand with the other to make sure she’s getting the right pressure on the side of Fleur’s spine, and continues methodically, not missing an inch as she makes her way up.
Making Fleur happy is never an empty endeavour, and of course that’s the first perk of this little...activity. Tonk hasn’t met anyone who hasn’t enjoyed being pampered, and massage is a good way to do it. The second perk is that Tonks gets to run her fingers or mouth through every single piece of Fleur’s body and she loves that. Loves basking in the beauty of her girlfriend. It just doesn’t get boring.
The third perk is why this has to be methodical: It’s a way to thank Fleur. Thank her for her enormous heart, that loves her family, that loves her friends, that loves people she hasn’t even met yet. Thank her for how graceful and poised she is in the middle of all this chaos and disorder. Thank her for being so unquestionably Good while still keeping her sparkly personality, because that’s what Tonks wants to see more of in this life, that’s what she tries to be. Thank her for choosing to spend her time with Tonks. Thank her for being so perfect.
By the time Tonks is done with Fleur’s back, Fleur’s ready for her and unties her ponytail. Wordlessly, Tonks kisses the strands too. She starts from the bottom again, trying to get to as much of it as she can, while the gentle - but not fragile - blond locks slip and slide. She ends her work with them by giving Fleur’s nape a kiss. Then, pushing the hair aside, she nibbles, licks and kisses Fleur’s neck, being careful not to leave a mark. Never that. The only thing Fleur should feel is gentle touches and pleasure, and the only remaining sign should be the shining oil and feeling of content.
Fleur tilts her head a bit then, but knows better than to try to kiss Tonks now. She couldn’t really say no, but it’s not time for that yet. There’s the shoulders, the arms, the hands, the fingertips. They have at least ten minutes before she can even get close to Fleur’s lips.
Slowly, slowly she makes her way through Fleur’s body. She spends a bit too long on the hands - she always does. But she can’t help it. Those are the hands that elegantly play the piano when Tonks asks, the hands that wield a wand masterfully, the hands that still look graceful while thrusting in and out of Tonks and making her say all sorts of impolite words.
Tonks’ thoughts wander away again as she kisses across Fleur’s torso, giving it a lick here and there too. She’s only human, after all.
When Tonks finally is eye-to-eye with Fleur, Fleur gives her an enormous smile, and waits patiently, as she always does, for Tonks to lean down and kiss her.
I want to worship you like this, every day, Tonks wants to say, but it sounds mad even to her own mind. And she’s thought of a crazy thing or two before, but none as wild as this.
Instead, she kisses Fleur, and kisses her, and kisses her. After she gets her fill of that, she crawls down, and pushes Fleur’s beautiful legs apart. Even her labias are perfect, and she’s not even a metamorphmagus. She has some Veela blood though, Tonks supposes, and doesn’t think about it further. One thing they can both agree on is that no matter how prim and perfect Fleur’s pussy looks, it looks even better after Tonks has thoroughly licked at and fingered it.
Fleur’s moans sound like music composed by masters to Tonks, as she pushes Fleur’s pussy lips together and sucks on her clit, doing her best to make her love enjoy herself, feel loved, and be sated.
And if Tonks chooses to continue her worship when they bathe together after, well, who can blame her, really? Who wouldn’t do anything for this wonderful woman?