Who: Isabela, Bayonetta What: A lunch date. Well it's more like coffee. When: Last month sometime. A slow scrub, I totally admit it. Where: A cafe somewhere. Rating/Warnings: There's talk of adult things like marital aids. So R I guess? Status: Complete!
Cereza had picked a delightful little cafe that wasn’t too expensive, but it was mostly just really cute as far as she was concerned.
She’d worn a white blouse with a low neckline, over fashionable, hip hugging skinny jeans and heels she could murder someone in. She ordered some wine and waited for the very gorgeous woman she hoped to make forget her own name later.
What was nearly immediately recognizable to Isabela was the fact that this Cereza woman was a force to be reckoned with. She was a lady, a 'ten', and she knew it, and she made sure everyone else knew it, too. It was a challenge, but Bela was well practiced at rising to that challenge when she needed to. That's where all that shopping with Leliana really paid off; She had her own collection of fancy, fashionable things.
Sure, you couldn't take the slattern out of the girl just by putting a fancy dress on. The Aveline in the back of Bela's head always made sure to remind her of that. But she enjoyed dressing a bit 'above her station', too. She chose a loose blouse for their coffee date. One made out of a silky, cream colored material that was speckled with glittering golden beads in a cascade from the neckline down to the bottom of it. Underneath that was the tightest pair of black leather pants she could fit in, a good contrast to the flowy shirt she had on up top. A cream colored belt with a golden buckle and a pair of sparkling golden heels completed the ensemble.
Cereza was unmistakable when she finally entered the cafe. She gave the woman a grin and a polite nod before ordering her own drink and coming over. It was an extremely large coffee, iced with caramel drizzled all over the insides of the cup. "You've got good taste, I see. That's promising."
A ten? A ten? Cereza was certainly an eleven and don't you ever forget it.
Cereza sat up slightly as the attractive woman approached the table. Her eyes roamed freely from top to bottom and she licked her lips as she considered all the places she wanted to put her mouth.
She was rather glad she hadn't gone with a dress. Though she could have pulled it off, and she knew it, but she liked that they were dressed equally. It made the ground between them even.
Her eyebrows shot up. "You've traveled around haven't you. I can still hear a trace of London, though." She offered her hand. "Cereza. A pleasure to meet you."
Fine, yes, an eleven. Bela was certain she went to eleven, too. It was intimidating in every single way that the woman, who was usually extremely confident, avoided. Bela liked to make jokes about how she came out on top in everything she did, and liked to boast about how easily thrown away people were once they'd outlived their usefulness.
No one she'd met in her life yet had made her as nervous as she felt when Cereza looked her over and licked her lips like that. She wondered if this was how she made other people feel. The tables had certainly turned.
Isabela's grip was strong when she shook Cereza's hand, if a bit sweaty. When she took her seat, though, it was with all the grace of a queen. She was a queen, of sorts. "Astute! My father moved us to London when Raj and I barely reached his knees. It eventually lost its luster and started feeling like a cage, like everywhere else you spend too long staring at. So I left. Roamed around a bit. New York for college. Here, there, wherever I wanted."
There was something delightful about Isabela that Cereza couldn’t put her finger on. She was confident, and bold, and open about her sexuality and Cereza always appreciated that in a woman. But she could also tell when she made someone nervous (which was often), and it was something that didn’t quite suit Isabela. The contrast intrigued her.
“Now that sounds like the life. I’ve traveled a fair bit myself. I just came out of Dubai, in fact.”
"Oooo, Dubai? How's it doing, these days? I heard they were starting up a huge theme park there, soon. It's gotten so high tech since I was born there, even. I don't remember what it looked like before, of course, so I can't really wax much more nostalgic about it." Bela leaned back in her chair and slung one leg over the other, then took a long sip of her coffee. Talking about exotic places and familiar things put her more at ease, "We still do a lot of business out of India. Or I assume we do. I haven't spoken to my family in years."
“They’re doing quite well actually. Recovery from the financial collapse did take them some time.” She leaned forward, sipping from her wine glass and wishing she had something to keep her mouth occupied with. “My family is in real estate, what does yours do?”
"Trade and retail, shipping. My father started it up, bringing cloth, spices, and other items from India back to London, which we then sold in the markets. It's been upgraded to a storefront and a fleet now, of course. Father's passed on, Raj took the business over. It's all handled, I go my own way now." And she left out the rest of the story. How her father'd wanted to sell her off to some rich businessman, how she'd run off and then come home to her father's death, or how Raj had kicked her out. Some things were better left unsaid. Few people in her life knew that much.
Probably Leliana did, though not because Isabela'd divulged the information.
“I do try to avoid my father’s side of the family, too. A whole bunch of sexist pigs still stuck in the nineteenth century.” Cereza scoffed, leaning back and crossing her legs. “I suppose the money comes in handy. I do live a rather lavish lifestyle, so I have to make the occasional appearance and make nice. They’d be livid if they saw where some of that money went.”
"I think your family and mine must know each other some how. We'll just say that I'm not that unhappy to be this 'estranged' from mine, either. I don't really get any of the money, but that hasn't stopped me from having my fun. And I have my own boat, so Raj can shove his entire fleet up his arsehole if he likes." For all Isabela knew, he WOULD like that. She often thought that was why he'd gotten so angry at her for having 'ideas' about her own sexuality.
“Ooo? Do you buy naughty things, then?” This sounded like it was going to be good. Bela sat a bit more forward in her seat and prepared herself to listen.
“Its certainly likely.” Cereza tilted her head back, laughing. “You’ll have to show me your boat sometime.” She liked the way this woman talked. She was so… “Cheeky thing, you. I buy all kinds of naughty things. For myself at least. I make a little money on the side and donate it to women in need.”
"I do so love showing off my boat. It was purchased by someone who had a LOT of money to spare and a very large investment in making me happy," Bela replied, with a grin. She liked that Cereza found her cheeky and it definitely put her at ease. They were getting along very well. Which was good, because Bela hoped it lead to them getting along famously. In the bedroom. Hopefully on Cereza's probably very high thread count sheets.
"I'm cheeky and I have zero shame, I admit it. But that's decent, donating money like that. You're being mysterious all 'I buy all kinds of things' and not listing off a single one." She smirked at Cereza and then went about sucking on her straw in the sexiest manner possible without being too unladylike.
Perhaps she had SOME shame after all.
“Those are the best kinds of investments.” She rested her chin on the back of her hand, smiling broadly and enjoying the view presented to her. She liked Isabela. Her attitude was refreshing.
“What are you hoping I’d tell you that I buy?” Her eyes glimmered with mischief and not a little suggestiveness.
"Oh, I don't know," Isabela shrugged a shoulder and spun her iced coffee around a bit on the table. "Something exciting. Sexy lingerie? Pornography? A ball gag, maybe?"
Her own eyes were glimmering with mischief, though her tone was quite casual. It was like she was discussing the weather instead of listing off the items of some kind of adult superstore catalog. She could probably list off the entire catalog of her favorite store, actually, but that would just be showing off.
“I’m always on the look out for the former, and I just in fact purchased a new one of the latter.” Cereza ticked each point off on a finger, her tone just slightly seductive. “Now you have me imagining you in both.”
Isabela's eyebrows rose at that idea, "Ooo, that's a new one. I'm usually the one doing the imagining. And the one doing the ball-gagging. Not much for the submission, me, but maybe for you I'd make an exception."
Which was giving Cereza a lot of trust right out the gate, but for a woman like that it was worth it.
“Mm. If you wish to submit, who am I to say no? I’ll have you eating out of my hands.” She leaned forward, slowly running her tongue over her lips. “Among other places.”
"I don't--" Bela realised that that warmth she was feeling in her cheeks had to do with the fact that she was blushing, something she rarely ever did. Bashful didn't look that good on her, she figured, and red had never really been her color. Unless it was a NICE red, of course. Like wine, the blood of her enemies, really nice hats.
She squinted at Cereza, a squint that almost looked like a scowl, "I'm usually the person on top, you know. It's just that you don't seem like the kind of woman who'd submit at all, and I can't just let you get away from me."
Blushing, actually was adorable, and Cereza took pride in making this confident woman’s cheeks turn red. “A little change up never hurts anyone, love.” She pointed one long, elegant finger at Isabela’s little blush and gave her a look like she was planning on making her sing like a particularly enthusiastic pop star.
Her cheeks were getting redder by the second, probably because Bela's head was reeling with all sorts of mental images involving bondage and this incredibly sexy woman sitting in front of her. She picked her iced coffee back up and took a nice long suck on the straw of it, hoping it would cool her insides down. Or at least freeze her brain.
But it didn't really work, and she wrinkled her nose a bit, "I don't suppose we could start with the vanilla stuff first and work our way up to your level of kinky?"
“As long as that involves someone sitting on someone’s face, I think we’re good,” Cereza replied, disturbingly cheerfully. She lifted her hand to summon a waiter. “Check, please.”