Swiftcurrent Creek [m] half a mind that keeps the other second guessing

Mature Content Warning

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: sexual themes and also internalized homophobia

For years, the longing to touch a woman in this way had been nothing short of a plague. She saw it in the woman of the mountains, in the seaside daydreamer; an attraction she had bludgeoned into the ground, telling herself undeserving. That she was an asset for men, an ugly body, but still a warm one. A desire she sometimes spoke of, but never acted upon as if it were a crime.
When she is told of her beauty, she gives her own laugh, one of defiance. She is uglier than ever right now, dirty, brutish, perverse; and yet the shame is nullified by want. 
And perhaps under normal circumstances she would have panicked at the riverwoman's invitation, but now, with her in the palm of Wren's hands, she would explore. Every little curve of her body she would come to know, feel, kiss; needy, needy, needy, forceful yet gentle at the same time, lovebites on skin and moans not for men's ears. At some point, there is a whisper of you'll never need a man again, and Wren is not sure whether she speaks it to Silvertongue or herself. 

***

In the aftermath, there are no regrets just yet as the endorphins burst and spill. Wren is gentle with her now, as if it were some kind of unspoken apology. Belladonna, she is named, and perhaps it has more than one meaning to it.