I trust you with my life. And what she done, she wonders, to have earned such a gift as that?

Resting her forehead against Rani's, Magni exhales a shuddering breath, as she raises her hand. Slowly traces the line of collarbone outwards, slowly trailing down to follow the curve of breast. Hesitant and cautiously spiralling inwards so that her thumb first grazes over Rani's nipple, and then a little firmer. Her other stand is still steadying against Rani's back, as she traces lower, the planes of her abdomen, circling her navel before dropping downwards.

She watches Rani carefully, biting her lip as her hand delays there. Nervous, a little worried, before she more deliberately drags her fingers lower. What experience she has in this is limited only to her imagination, to her own hands wandering in the dark to seek out her own pleasure. At least, she supposes, its gives her some hope of knowing what it is that can bring a woman satisfaction, and she dips down to seek out that point of sensitivity, eyes shutting for a moment as she press against Rani and the ease upward again, so she can roll against it.