Nom de Guerre – Part 2.

	Marlow Crosbane shuffled her feet nervously as she stood outside the Captain's door. It had been a few days since she had last been here, but she hadn't been able to stop thinking about the time she had spent with the Captain. Already, her memory seemed hazy, like some strange yet delightful dream.
	And yet, Marlow knew that it had been real. The feel of Cyrielle's soft breast beneath her hand and the long, sensual kiss they had shared weren’t things she could have made up. After being dismissed from the Captain's quarters, Marlow had spent the rest of the night in a daze. She hadn't expected to hear, several days later, that the Captain had summoned her again.
	“I'm a little early,” she whispered to herself, checking her watch. It was still a few minutes before 2100 hours. With nothing to distract her mind, Marlow's thoughts were racing. She spent a few moments smoothing down her hair and tugging at her clothes before realising how absurd her efforts were. She was acting like a nervous prom queen waiting for her date.
	Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, Marlow knocked briskly on the door. A moment later, Marlow heard a voice from inside and pushed the door open. Captain Cyrielle was standing at her desk, leaning casually against it. Marlow was strangely disappointed to see that, unlike last time, she was fully dressed.
	“Marlow, please, come in. Take a seat.” Cyrielle gestured towards a rather plain looking seat. Throat dry, Marlow didn't trust herself to talk yet. She simply nodded and obediently sat down. A thin layer of nervous sweat had begun to gather in her armpits as Marlow watched Cyrielle's movements. The older woman had started to pace slowly, one hand playing with the top button of her tunic as if she was lost in thought.
	No matter how many times Marlow made herself look away, her attention was always drawn back to that small, unconscious motion. Cyrielle's fingers were long and nimble and, before long, the button had slipped out of place, revealing a slender triangle of flesh.
	“You asked to see me, Ma'am?” Marlow eventually asked, eager to break the silence. By now, Cyrielle's fingers had begun to dance around another button. When she heard Marlow's voice, Cyrielle lowered her hands to her sides and moved behind her. The hairs on the back of Marlow's neck stood on end as she felt the other woman standing close behind her.
	“I did, didn't I?” Cyrielle's voice was quiet, but perfectly clear. She refused to say any more, instead placing her hands on Marlow's shoulders. The grip was soft, but there was real strength behind it. Marlow realised that she wouldn't be able to leave the chair, even if she wanted to.
	“What... did you want to see me about?” Marlow's voice was weak, breathless even though Cyrielle had only begun to caress her shoulders. As she spoke, Cyrielle leaned down until her mouth was next to Marlow's ear. As each breath tickled Marlow with a gentle puff of warm air, Cyrielle's hands moved down, leaving her shoulders and seeking out the buttons on her shirt.
	By this point, Marlow knew quite well what Cyrielle had wanted to see her about.
	“I wanted to see you,” Cyrielle whispered simply, each word loaded with seductive anticipation. Her fingers worked as she spoke, quickly and delicately unbuttoning Marlow's shirt. When all the buttons lay undone, Cyrielle swept the garment aside, allowing her fingers to glide across Marlow's exposed stomach. Marlow shivered at the sensation and fought down a gasp. Next, Cyrielle's fingers slid up her back, following her spine until they reached Marlow's bra. This too was quickly undone and removed. Suddenly exposed, a feeling of vulnerability swept over Marlow.
	With a series of careful, delicate motions, Cyrielle began to kiss to side of Marlow's neck. Each kiss seemed to tingle against the surface of Marlow's skin as Cyrielle worked her way down to the shoulder. Marlow let the strength leave her body, leaning back and letting Cyrielle's hands work their way down to her small breasts. A sudden wave of pleasure, far stronger than anything she had expected, shot through Marlow as Cyrielle squeezed her breasts drawing an involuntary cry from her lips.
	Too aroused to be embarrassed by her cries, Marlow surrendered to the older woman, allowing her to rub and caress her breasts at will. Every time Cyrielle's fingers flicked across her nipples another sound of pleasure escaped from Marlow, anything from a suppressed gasp to an uncontrolled moan. Eventually, Cyrielle's strong hands moved away from Marlow's breasts, reaching down to unbuckle her belt.
	When the belt lay unbuckled, Cyrielle slid a hand down into Marlow's trousers, one finger lightly brushing against her underwear. Just as Marlow had begun to shiver with anticipation, Cyrielle pulled her hand from Marlow's trousers, placing both hands on her hips. Marlow looked around in confusion, catching sight of Cyrielle's gleeful, teasing smile.
	“Say please,” Cyrielle murmured, stroking Marlow's cheek. Marlow flushed with embarrassment. She wanted Cyrielle to keep touching her, to feel her strong fingers caressing and exploring her most intimate areas, but she couldn't bring herself to beg for it.
	“Hey...” She protested weakly. Any attempt at further words was cut off when Cyrielle reached down and ran her nails lightly down her side. The nails were short and well kept, but sharp. The wonderful sensation, so close to pain that Marlow could barely tell it apart from pleasure, set her entire body quivering.
	“Now say please!” Cyrielle's voice was full of a mocking arrogance, certain that she could get Marlow to break. Marlow squirmed in the chair, pride and lust fighting amongst themselves. No matter how hard she tried, she could not suppress the deep yearning the older woman had stoked in her.
	“Please...” She murmured, before raising her voice, the words forcing themselves from her lips. “Please!”
	Cyrielle laughed, her voice hot and rich, before sliding one hand into Marlow's underwear. Marlow felt herself growing wet as Cyrielle ran one finger along her lips, tracing the outside of her slit. When the finger was dripping wet, Cyrielle began to to rub Marlow's clit, gently at first but growing firmer as Marlow's breathing grew heavier.
	Marlow panted as the finger circled her clitoris, sending a pulsing wave of ecstasy through her. After having her nipples teased for so long, it didn't take long before Marlow began to feel a strong climax building in her loins. It felt heavy, in a way, a kind of throbbing pressure that kept growing until she could barely contain it.
	Slick with sweat and almost delirious with the sensations, Marlow's body began to buck and convulse as her orgasm hit. Breathless cries escaped her as Cyrielle's fingers kept working on her, bringing her to new levels of pleasure. The indescribable moment of climax passed too quickly, leaving Marlow quaking in her chair, panting and struggling to think straight.
	“That... That was...” Marlow panted, words refusing to form properly in her mind.
	“Your first time, by the looks of it,” Cyrielle laughed, although her voice had become more gentle. Carefully, she withdrew her hand from Marlow's underwear and hugged her from behind, her skin cool against Marlow's sweaty flesh. Marlow let her eyes drift shut and relaxed, leaning back into Cyrielle's embrace.
	“Yeah,” she murmured. A languid feeling had seeped into her body, filling her with satisfying fatigue.
	“You look tired,” Cyrielle said quietly, “There's a bed here, you should take a nap.” Moving around to face her, Cyrielle leaned down and scooped Marlow up, carrying her bridal style to the small bed in the corner of the room. By the time she had placed the younger woman onto the bed, light snores were already drifting through the room.