. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Elsa stalked down the hallways of the royal pallace. She was so tired of being the 'evil' sister.Her sister Anna was a young, naive, innocent, but very beutiful, girl. She always seemed to atract the innaproprietly long stares and licking lips. In all the months after Elsa had opened the gates Anna had no less than 26 suiters each one more hadsome than the last.All had been found lacking by Elsa. Each knight, duke, or lord who wanted Anna's hand in marriage had to go through Elsa, and Elsa found them all lacking. When she talked to them she found she weighted their feelings for Anna against her own and none came close. This both scared and pleased Elsa. Pleased because she knew she would never let someone hurt her baby sister. But it also scared her more than anything else because if the kingdom found out she and Anna would be outcasts, mobbed or their heads hunted in the forrest for sport.She impatiently motioned for the guards at the doors to. You look away and back for a second time, a smile forming on your lips and in your eyes as you raise one eyebrow just marginally. As you break our gaze for a third time I realise you are not looking away but looking towards – not demure but devilish. I follow your gaze, pass one finger tracing the outline of your lips and I follow the line of your other arm. It is only now that I notice it, fingers buried under your belt to the final knuckles.I know from past experience that with your hand in that position, your middle finger just barely reaches through your neatly trimmed hair to only the very tip of your slit. Looking back into your eyes I follow your gaze down again – this time not down your body but my own. I realise as if for the first time, as if of its own accord, that my hand has found its way beneath my own belt, mirroring your position with my own.With a wicked smile, your legs part fractionally further and I watch as your hand disappears into your waist-band up to.
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