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Aranea Serket found herself being coaxed awake by a steady ribbit. Her eyes fluttered open, and in front of her was a frog. A frog? She thought. What's a frog doing on - oh my god I'm not on my planet. She rolled over to see Porrim snuggled comfortably next to her. Oh my god I'm in a pile of cushions with Porrim. She lifted the blanket. Naked.
As her sleepy daze wore off, she became more aware of what exactly was going on and what exactly went on last night. She covered her eyes with her hands. How am I going to face Porrim when she wakes up? She removed her hands and her sight landed on a full bucket near the cushions. Her face turned bright blue. Maybe she'll forget. I'll get rid of the bucket and she'll forget. Hopefully.
She pulled herself from the cushion pile and threw on her nightgown. She was halfway across the room with the bucket when Porrim spoke softly. "You can just throw that in the load gaper."
Aranea paused, nodded, and left the room. She entered the hallway and sighed. It was as if all the air in that room was removed and replaced with tension and unsureness. As she upended the bucket over the load gaper, she had a nagging urge to just leave and avoid any awkward morning-after smalltalk. At least, I think that's what happens next. She thought, because this was her first time doing this, any of this, and it was unnerving. She tried to collect herself as she sat on the edge of the abulition trap.
Can you really leave her, Aranea? When she saw you up and dressed, all she did was tell you what to do with the bucket. She didn't ask where you were going or if you were coming back. She trusts you to stay.
She washed the bucket out in the sink and left it in the bathroom. As she came closer to the room, she felt the familiar suffocation setting back in slowly. She was outside the door now. Advance or advance? Her hand led itself to the doorknob and clutched it with white knuckles. She turned it and stepped in.
Porrim was sitting at her bureau in her own nightgown. It was a little sheer, and Aranea could vaguely see the details of the body she'd become so familiarized with last night. Her breath caught at the vivid memories. Porrim turned to her, hair perfectly touseled and a shy half-smile on her lips. As Aranea blushed a little and half-smiled back, she thought, This is the Porrim that only I know. The half-smiles, the soft murmuring conversations as we cuddle, the endearing looks.
Porrim got up and went to Aranea, who still stood at the door, closed behind her. She stopped a foot or so away. The space between them was intimidating. This isn't just any troll. This is Porrim, the one who captured my heart as if it were in a chastity modus. Porrim, my first lover, and my first real love, she told herself.
Porrim reached out and grasped Aranea's hand. Running on an instinct she didn't know she had, Aranea pulled her in, wrapping her arms around the other's waist. Porrim chuckled in a relieved surprise and returned the action, brushing her lips against Aranea's forehead. "I love you," she sighed. "And if you were wondering, you're a great pailer, too."
Finally, the tension was gone. Aranea nuzzled into Porrim and smiled on her neck. "You're not too bad yourself. How loudly did I shout your name?" she joked.
"Woke up the whole neighborhood," Porrim smirked, twirling Aranea's hair around her fingers.
"What, I woke up the frogs? Oh, by the way, there's one somewhere in here that most likely saw all of our acts of flushed passion."
"Lucky frog. I'd pay to see that," she purred.
Aranea pulled her head back to look at her. "Porrim!" she said accusingly, giving her a gentle slap at the waist, but was smiling too much to pull off the charade of being outraged. Porrim beamed and rested their heads together. "I love you," Aranea whispered.
They kissed, and it felt like nothing would get old between them, every kiss as exciting as their first.