Chapter Fourteen #4
her muck till she tossed and bucked.
Hey,
hey! Away!”
Deciding
to keep himself busy, Isaac tossed more lichen into the fire and rummaged
through her pack for a waterskin. He took out two, drinking greedily from the
first. He knew the value of keeping hydrated during exertion.
Zaria
began to clap to her song.
“O, he
noshed it once, and he noshed it twice
Clap
He
drank her straight, like the sweetest spice
Clap
He
drank her fast, and he drank her slow
Clap
And he
damn near got her guts in tow
Clap
Hey,
hey! Away!”
“Catch!”
Isaac shouted.
Zaria
blinked from her reverie, just in time to see a waterskin flying at her face.
She caught the pouch offhand, still giggling to
herself, her eyes reflecting the firelight.
“Get
your strength back,” he said. “We’re going again.”
She
snorted. “Oh, are we?”
Isaac
angled his body close to the fire. Hanging above the flames, his cock stood
hard and eagerly erect. Without taking his gaze away from her, he wiped her cum
from his face and used it as lubricant to wet his member, stroking up and down
with a firm grip. He pointed his finger at her, then down at his cock.
Zaria
was so shocked she nearly sputtered. For a while, her response alternated
between laughter, attempts to catch her breath, and a quick guzzling of the
skin. When she spoke, it was only to say: “What happened to my squire?”
He
approached her again, moving slow.
This
time, she did not rise to greet him—instead, lying on her back, she opened her
legs and spread her lips with a hand, her pink walls still glistening with his
saliva.
For a
moment, practicality pierced through his lust. Isaac began to worry of
mechanics. The bench she was lying on was about as tall as his knees, and his
cock was perched at a rather strict angle. After half-crouching between her
thighs, he tried to force his member into a better position, because, surely,
it couldn’t enter her while pointing at his belly, but that quickly proved the
wrong angle for penetration, and he sat back, staring at her sex like an
engineer working a trebuchet.
Panic
rose up inside him.
His
body knew exactly what it wanted to do, but his conscious mind was betraying
him, making him question every decision. The more he did nothing, the harder it
felt to start.
“Isaac.”
He
looked up at her, like he was committing a heinous crime.
Zaria
had risen onto her elbows, her snout curling into deep, gouging lines. “You
made a promise. You better keep it.”
“Yes,
I’m sorry, I just—”
“Either
you fuck me, or I’m getting up and I’m fucking you.”
He
blinked.
“Make a
choice,” she said.
And,
suddenly, things were simple again.
It was
like battle, like fighting the necromancer. Either he killed her, or she killed
him. Just like the life and death struggle of combat, there was no time to
hesitate.
Hesitation
was defeat.
He
would not lose to the necromancer, and he would not lose to her.
Without
another word, he gripped her thighs, aligned his cock with her slit, and
speared himself inside.
The
sensations struck him in a blur, like a sword piercing his gut. She was tight,
slick, roaring hot. Her cunt gripped him like a fist. He burrowed himself
through until his thighs slapped against the meat of her ass, making a dull
thump of flesh, and the sheer marvel of him actually having sex immediately
compelled him to stop, remaining stationary and hilted into her, struggling to
regain his focus.
He
heard a growl.
Suddenly,
Zaria ripped her thighs from his grip. They wrapped around his hips, tight and coiling.
She squeezed him deeper, like she meant to break him in half. Her face had the
appearance of someone ready to fight to the death.
“No
slacking, squire.”
Isaac
growled back, surprising himself more than her, and he bucked his hips against
the grip of her legs, managing a shallow thrust. He tried again, pushing
harder. He was allowed some leverage and immediately bucked for more, breaking
open the belt of her legs. Leaning his hands against her abdomen, he thrusted
with a surging need, harder than he thought either of them could handle.
Through it all, she was hotter than a furnace, she was softer than silk, she
was wet and tight and perfect, she was better than he could have ever dreamed,
and he wanted to fuck her so hard she’d never walk again.
They
fell into a savage rhythm. Her flesh rippled with every thrust, his body making
the most obscene sounds when it crashed into hers. As
he worked himself inside, she began to knead at her breasts, panting
loud.
“Harder!”
she yelled.
Isaac
increased his pace, toiling at himself. The mechanics were starting to falter.
The bench was not at the right height, his positioning was awkward, his feet
were slipping on the floor, and even his rigorous mnemonics training could not
prevent his muscles from straining at the effort. He’d had no idea that sex
could be so exhausting.
“Harder!”
He
needed to improvise.
This
time, when he hilted himself inside her, he rubbed his pelvis against her
clitoris, remembering the way she had done so before, in the chapel. He
continued this for a moment, hoping for a reaction. Zaria gripped her breasts,
a snarl flaring from her teeth. Isaac thought of an explorer approaching the
den of some vicious beast, hearing the growl of a predator, one that told the
ignorant traveler that they would surely die if they proceeded any further.
“Deeper!”
He gave
it his all. He held no strength in reserve. He struck so hard and fast that his
testicles began to ache.
Finally,
Zaria rose from her prone position, her arms reaching towards him. She hugged
him tight enough to force the air from his lungs, and she flung him down on top
of her, rolling her hips in time with the flip to keep him embedded inside. He
fell face-first into the valley of her breasts, the soft globes pooling over
his shoulders, his entire body resting on top of her, his feet barely able to
reach the floor.
“Deeper!”
Suddenly,
he could thrust deeper. The angle had changed, the pressure had shifted, their
anatomies were more properly aligned. His hips bucked again, and he thrusted so
deeply into her that he feared his cock might rearrange her intestines. By now,
there was no part of his body that was not compressed against
her—her arms hugged his back, her legs wrapped around his waist, and her
chest smothered his face in a luscious carpet of fur. He rubbed his cheek
against it, relishing the texture, burying his nose in the hairs and breathing
deeply of her scent.
“Squire!
Suck on my tits!”
Isaac
complied without the slightest hesitation. She relaxed the grip of her arms
just enough for him to scoop one of her breasts towards his face, and he sucked
on her areola in much the same way he’d done to her nethers, sealing his lips
around the nipple, gently tugging and licking as it tried to bounce with his
thrusts. Her response was somewhere between a growl and a shudder, the claws of
her hands digging at his back.
On the
craggy stone wall next to them, the shadows of their bodies were mashed into
one giant form. It didn’t look much different than the necromancer’s mass of
bones, creating a seemingly horrible configuration of gyrating shapes and
grasping limbs, all of it undulating upon itself.
Her
nipple fled from his mouth as he laughed.
“What’s
this?” Zaria shouted. “You think this is fun and games?”
He
laughed even harder.
Suddenly,
in the middle of one of his thrusts, her tail brushed up between his legs. The
sensation was so unexpected, so penetrating in its position, that he nearly
leaped off her body. Her grin widened as she kept batting her tail beneath his
groin, thumping it like a dust feather, forcing him to brush against the fluffy
appendage with every buck of his hips. He discovered, rather forcefully, that
he was ticklish.
“Stop
it!”
“Make
me!”
Feeling
that he was losing the tactical advantage, Isaac lay his body flat against
hers, freeing the use of his hands. He cast a thin layer of frost across his
palm and pressed the icy surface deep below her armpits, where the fur was very
thin. Zaria gave a girlish scream.
“That’s
cheating, Isaac!”
“Yes,
it is!”
She
pried his arms off her flanks, growling and panting. Her legs strangled down on
his hips, all but sealing him against her, and he dipped down to suck at her
breasts again, almost working her like an opponent in a duel. He wasn’t exactly
sure who was fucking who anymore. She was stronger, she was far more
experienced, and he was quickly losing ground.
He
could feel the pressure building inside him again. From the sound of her
breathing, the same was happening to her. Suddenly, he saw his chance at
victory. He used the last of his strength to unleash a full-frontal assault,
pounding and sucking and gripping and lashing and using all the leverage there
was to offer. Their breaths grew erratic. Striking flesh echoed over the pool.
Very quickly, their movements became desperate and needful and wanting.
She
would orgasm first. He could feel it on every writhing inch of her body.
He was
going to win.
But just
as he was about to cross the precipice, she bent her head towards him, rubbing
her snout against his ear. In a quiet, cooing voice, she whispered only a
single word.
“Squire.”
Isaac’s
orgasm exploded through him, eclipsing all his senses. Zaria came a distinctive
second later. They tightened their grip on each other, as if they might get
swept away, and he seemed to pump every single drop of cum he had into her, her
walls contracting and trembling around him, her claws scratching across his
back, her legs pressing him as deep as he could possibly go, sharpening every
note of ecstasy. When the waves of pleasure finally receded, and all their
muscles fell limp around them, it felt like waking
from a dream.
His
mind reeled.
His
entire body tingled in pleasure.
With a