She let her eyelids open slowly, her gaze going straight to the firm but fleshy ivy that had recently crested the ledge. She grinned.
She let go of her clothing and closed her eyes again. After waiting a few seconds, she flung out her hand and caught the power of the next breeze. Moving her hand back and forth to confirm she had full control of the zephyr, she then began rippling her fingers around it as she manipulated its movement.
While one hand harnessed the moderate breeze, the other reached out to the ivy, fingers outstretched and rigid. She harnessed and concentrated the sunlight the plant was receiving. At the same time, she drew the humidity out of the area around the ivy and condensed it onto its leaves, hastening its growth. Larger and longer it grew towards Jularra. When it reached her body, she flicked her fingers and shifted from growing the plant to controlling its position and movement.
She spread her legs wider and felt the ivy tickle her ankle. Over her shin the leaves crept, and then up the insides of her legs. Her other hand came to rest on her thigh; she only needed to focus on the ivy now.
The first leaf brushed against her clitoris. Her pelvis twitched from the expected pleasure. Her fingers waved gently as she commanded the leaves and settled them into a slow and gentle rhythm. Each glancing stroke was shallow, but thorough. She concentrated on each leaf’s initial contact, its sensual slide against her, and then its playful retraction. And then the next leaf, and the next leaf, and then a fresh cycle started over.
Her fingers waved with a deliberate and fluid guidance. Each stroke of her clitoris by the plant was a carnal and primal connection to the world. It was more than just pleasure. Her excited nerves rippled with respect and love for herself, as well as for the sun, the vine, the air, and the mountains encircling her. She was wrapped up in the freedom of the open air and the freedom to do as she wished.
She sped up her fingers. The leaves at the end of the vine continued doing her bidding at the speed and pressure at which she commanded them. Quicker still, her fingers worked. Her hand became tenser and more rigid as she worked towards her orgasm. The leaves became increasingly firm, but erratic, as her ecstasy caused her to lose some of her focus. The vine’s appendages flicked and licked her, pressing against her harder and rougher. She couldn’t move her fingers any faster. She felt so good, and wanted everyone to know how good she felt. Jularra began to moan and, just before her orgasm, decided she was going to scream out with her climax, and didn’t care who heard her.
“Are you coming, Jularra?” Korden shouted from just inside her bedchamber.
“Shit!” Jularra spat.
Her legs flailed as she severed her magical focus and swatted at the plant to retreat from her body. Aggravated by the interruption of her pleasure, she rushed to stand and slung her clothes back into place. The vine receded just as Korden slung back the curtain. He met Jularra with his eyebrows knitted in curiosity.
Jularra faced him after just barely getting herself back together in time. In the awkward silence, Korden's eyes flicked up to her flushed forehead. A few beads of sweat rolled down from her hairline.
“Um,” Korden began, “is everything…”
“I was just getting some air!” Jularra blurted loudly. She looked over the balcony edge to check no one down below had heard. She cleared her throat.
“I was just collecting my thoughts,” she added.
Korden could only smile at her. “Let’s get over there, shall we?”
“All right,” she obliged calmly.
Korden’s smile took on an admiring quality as he stepped back and held the curtain open for her.
“Thank you,” she offered sincerely, eager to move past the embarrassment she had caused herself—though she found some relief in knowing Korden didn’t catch her completely. She picked up a cloth and patted her face with it, clearing her mind of the disappointing and wasted indulgence. She shook her head at herself before reaching into a nearby bowl of water. She wet her hands and dabbed her face before drying it off again.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Korden gestured at the few Bedrock just inside her room. The massive door leading out of her chamber swung open, causing the greater complement of Bedrock further down the corridor to snap to attention.
Jularra left her chamber, tense with dread and unsatisfied desire. Korden fell in behind her, and so too did the guards as she passed between each pair. They moved through the corridor with hefty strides to keep up with Jularra’s determined march. The powerful wind of Jularra was on the move.
The queen and her entourage made their way to the only lift that accessed that area of her residence tower. Stepping onto the platform, they were lowered at the quickest pace the lift operators could muster. Five floors to the base level allowed enough time for a conversation of decent length, and the queen would often engage in conversation with Korden or her Bedrock. This ride down was not one of those times. She had unfinished business occupying her mind. Remnants of her embarrassment on the balcony were overtaken by her intentions and expectations for the council meeting.
The opening to the ground level slid into view, and the massive oak timbers of the lift’s platform clunked solidly into place. Jularra and her men stepped off, and servant staff stepped on in their place, making their way up to their day's work in the residence tower.
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” the staff greeted as she exited the lift amid bows and curtsies.
“Good morning,” she warmly returned, appreciative of the momentary distraction.
Jularra's group marched down the corridor, creating a racket that brought others out to watch their queen pass by. Over the noise, an obnoxious, but familiar laugh echoed through the hall. It wasn’t enough for Jularra to
