She was doing it to herself again. Frantic, hard, while her thighs shook and she gasped. Madeleine. If she did this to Madeleine. Madeleine’s face would flush, just like it had before. Her pulse would go faster at the base of her throat, and Hæra could lick it, suck it, even bite it.

“Oh,” she gasped, “oh, oh.” She hadn’t been able to muffle it. Maybe she could make Madeleine do that too. Make her feel so good that she couldn’t stay quiet. Madeleine’s voice was soft, low, rich. Hæra imagined it saying oh, oh, oh.

Madeleine would look at Hæra the whole time while her full lips opened around her moans. Her hips would rise and fall like Hæra’s were doing, chasing the sensation.

As she moved inside herself, the edge of Hæra’s hand brushed something above her entrance. It was a sensitive spot, a little flap of flesh that responded with a brighter flare of pleasure. She gasped again.

Then, carefully, she spread her legs wider, tilted her right hand, and touched the spot with her left one. This time, she had to bite her lip so hard it hurt to keep from making a noise. Touching this spot felt even better. It was a little dry, though. Inspired, Hæra withdrew her fingers from herself, sighing a little at the loss. Then she stroked them, wet as they were, over the spot.

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back. It felt incredible. She experimented, trying different angles and pressures until she had a rhythm going that made her whimper through her nose. Faster, she should try going faster. Her thighs were shaking again.

How would she do this to Madeleine? She could lie next to her. She could lie pressed next to Madeleine with her fingers between Madeleine’s thighs, stroking her just like this…after being inside her, getting her slick so that it felt good…while Madeleine writhed under Hæra’s hand, pleading for more…

Then she’d turn her head. She’d open her mouth, pleading for the first thing they’d ever done together. Hæra would give it to her. They would kiss, deeply, the closest to devouring that Hæra could get while still keeping Madeleine’s soft skin safe. She’d kiss Madeleine’s mouth, and stroke her between her legs, and make her moan, and—and⁠—

Hæra’s muscles stiffened, and the rising ache inside her crested. She throbbed, clenched inside, exquisite spasms that scattered her thoughts into nothingness. All she could think about was Madeleine’s mouth while her legs shook and a cry escaped her throat. It seemed to go on and on as she stroked herself, coaxing out more and more pleasure with her own hands.

This was what it must feel like to soar among the clouds, borne up by a great pair of wings.