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Degradation, somnophilia,
dumbification, praise,
swearing, slight spit kink, etc...
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The early glow of the sun rising over the horizon covered the space around you in a magnificent golden hue. Curtains were spread just enough to let the bright light into your bedroom.
You had spent the night tucked into Hela's arms, but throughout the night, you had somehow found your way to the opposite side of the bed. And when the ravenette woke up, her vision was blurry from sleep.
Knuckles rubbed against her eyes, and she audibly groaned. Not only were the rays from the sun shining directly into her face, but she was cold.
Your body always kept her warm. Limbs tangling with her own as if you were both one, but today they were missing. She frowned as she pulled the covers over her, but when she looked over to your side of the bed, all morning sourness was depleted.
Hela herself was never a morning person. It was too bright, too shiny, too early. If she could stay in bed all day with you tucked by her side, she would.
And the sight of you laying on your stomach, body turned away from her, hair sprawled out behind you, your bare back glowing with the most beautiful glow from the sunshine, and your little black lace panties just barely peeking out from under the duvet had her mind instantly take a new direction.
You looked at peace. And even in your sleep, Hela thought you were the most gorgeous being she had ever seen. Long, slim fingers tangled in your locks, twirling the soft strands away so she could get a better view of your back.
Your muscles moved with each steady breath, and Hela couldn't help herself but to reach out and glide a gentle finger down your spine.
Her sweet Angel, sleeping so peacefully—so beautifully. Her body moved closer to yours like a magnet. Drawn to you. Meant to connect with you.
Your skin was as soft and smooth as the silk sheets beneath you. Tender digits explored your back, following every nook, every dip, curve, and trail until she reached just low enough to touch your lace panties.
They were her favorite ones. Dark. Black. Her favorite color. And you looked absolutely divine wearing it.
Her fingers pulled at the duvet, gently and carefully sliding the thick blanket down your legs, and past your feet, earning the most subtle shiver from you in your sleeping state.
Such a delectable creature you were. So much younger, brighter, sweeter. The completely opposite of her. Yet you chose her. The more older, crankier, darker woman. And she would never admit it, but you brought out the best in her.
And she was ever so grateful for you. But to her, words were a struggle. It was hard for her to tell you exactly how she felt. It was an ongoing battle between her mind and her lips.
But there was another way that always allowed her to express herself. And that was with physical touch. One thing she loved most.
And that's why when you let out the softest of hums when her digits raked over the lace panties covering the curve of your ass, Hela knew what she had to do.
Even in your sleep, your body and mind memorized her touch. So soft and delicate. The complete opposite of her usual demeanor.
Her pointer and middle finger dipped just beneath the lace to drag the thin fabric carefully down your legs.