My Travels with Clytemnestra Ch. 04

CHAPTER IV

'KYANI'

Over the next week or so Clytemnestra and I have come to know many of the ordinary's bar staff tolerably well. There's Niah, of course, the girl I'd 'saved' with my 'sorcery' that first night, and Atron -- who'd woken me up the next morning with her noisy climax... That proved to be a feature of living in this place. Others too like Morra, who never wears knickers, which means she constantly flashes her exposed sex under that tiny skirt the barmaids wear, to the benefit of her tips, I gather, and to the detriment of Clytemnestra and I who often have to come to her aid.

Aniviv is a pretty, well-spoken girl who can read and write and wants to be a playwrite, but has never found her break, and there's Ti who gives herself airs because she (claims she) is the Prince of the city's bastard. Dalla came to me after her shift one night and asked me to teach her sorcery, which I obviously had to decline since I barely know a thing myself and daren't reveal that.

And Kyani... I wonder in to the bathroom with the towel, sponge and the cake of pink, cherry-scented soap I'd bought yesterday. I'm very much looking forward to a long soak.

It's a big bathroom with four handsome clawed baths in it and a copper water heater large enough to fill all of them. There are some wicker chairs here and there, presumably so one can wait for hot water or just as a place to drape clothes. Kyani is already there, about light the fire under the water heater.

"Oh, uh... Hi," she mutters, a little wary. We've not really spoken before and some of the staff seem a bit afraid of me, "Do you want... want me to put some more water on?"

Kyani, like me, has a particularly broad, dense treasure trail and extraordinarily hirsute armpits, both traits which are considered highly attractive here in this odd, charming world.

"That won't be necessary," I say in as nice a voice as I can manage. Trying not to appear threatening. I turn on one of the four taps letting cold water flood into a bath, "I can heat it much quicker."

"Can... Oh, wow," She looks gratifyingly impressed. I shut off the tap, dip my hand into the water and tell it it's nice and hot. Curling, cloudy steam starts to issue from the surface, and the water is warm enough to turn my skin pink.

"Would you like me to warm yours?" I offer, then pause as I can almost hear Clytemnestra's voice in my head, telling me to go for broke, "Unless, you'd rather share mine, that is?"

I smile and raise an eyebrow in what I hope is an inviting manner. I don't doubt she knows exactly what I'm suggesting. After a moment, she smiles excitedly and I quickly step forward and kiss her right on the lips. Mmm.

After a instant's passion, and a little grope of her nice pert bottom I let her go again and quickly strip my top off, then my skirt and pants. As I'm straightening up again Kyani has shed her tiny skirt and I get a glimpse of a quantity of thick black hair escaping the edges of her white knickers, not to mention a startlingly thick treasure trail all the way from her navel. In a trice she's as naked as I am and I openly stare at her thick, dense bush. Her crotch is even hairier than mine, which which has become noticeably so since arriving in this world.

Kyani herself is a lovely woman, very very thin with bouncy little breasts and light brown skin and such a narrow waist, but oh, her hair! She has a great diamond-shaped patch of long, thick hair all the way from her navel to the crux of her legs. Kyani sees me staring and shyly covers herself with her hands.

"Oh! No, no, no. That's a sight to behold!" I exclaim joyfully, moving her hands away. As I do I can see equally impressive patches under each arm.

I cannot help but raise her arm up and give one armpit a long lick. That makes her laugh loudly and try to bat me away with the other hand, so I seize that, raise it and lick her under there.

So much hair. Her armpits are great, dense, thatches of black hair, glistening, beaded with perspiration. I lick again and again at her coarse hair, I taste her salt sweat and breathe her womanly musk.

"I've got to taste you," I pant excitedly, pulling on her hand until she follows me to one of the chairs. I throw my towel over the coarse wicker and settle Kyani down.

"What about the bath?" she giggles.

"It'll keep. Now scoot forward, that's right, good girl."

I kneel in front of her, between her long, slim legs as she perches that lovely patch of fur right on the edge of the chair, an inch from my nose. Her scent is strong and slightly spicy, exotic and tempting. I suppose I should draw things out, but I can't. Even this close I can scarcely make out her slit through all that hair. I give a deep, hard lick, tasting salt sweat and the beginnings of her arousal. I feel the thick hair against my tongue, my lips, my cheeks, my nose.

I kiss her messily, licking and nuzzling. Kissing all the way up her hairy trail and licking the recess of her navel while she giggles and writhes.

My eyes are closed, all of my other senses are focused on the wonderful hairy woman before my lips. The tip of my tongue slides across her soft, slick folds and I taste her. My nose is pressed deep into her hot sex and I smell her, her thighs grip my head, her thick hair against my face and I feel her. My world shrinks until it is her alone, and the sensations she gives me.

My fingers part the dense hair, uncovering her soft, wet folds and her hands wrap around the back of my head, pulling me to her. I lick small, gentle circles about her most sensitive spot, making her gasp quietly and tangle her fingers in my hair.

Her sex is hot and wet and delicious. Her lips slide under mine, my mouth all over her cunt, my fingers deep in her wiry hair, spreading her flower for my hungry mouth as she starts to tremble. I lovingly lick my tongue up and down, drinking down her nectar. My mouth moves up to her clitty, slowly circling it, teasing the hood, licking it, kissing it.

Now I slide my tongue over it, at last gently, oh-so-gently, licking her fully exposed bud. Kyani moans in wanton pleasure. Her hips are in constant motion now, her spine undulating sinuously as she fucks herself on my lips, rubbing all that hair over my face. My tongue plunges deep into her sex and she rubs her clit against my lip. Her hands hold me tight to her rubbing, grinding cunt, her mass of hair everywhere about me, tickling my cheeks and nose.

"Deeper!" she orders, half insensible, "Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes!"

I force one finger between my face and her needy cunt, rubbing at the top of her slit and try to force my tongue deeper still. She's fucking herself against my face so hard and fast that it's almost painful. That hairy snatch is working for itself now, I doubt I even need do anything but enjoy it. I do, I love the taste of her love, the smell of her hairy, wet sex, the feel of that mass of thick hair against my face, in my mouth.

"Look at me!" she orders, "Look at meee!"

I open my eyes and stare up at her, her wild brown eyes meet mine and she comes, staring down at me, my face more than half buried in her huge bush. Her hands clamp me even more powerfully to her shuddering sex, her thighs squeeze me, but her eyes never leave mine until, spent, she flops back into the chair, finally freeing me from her grip.

I can but sit there, almost as dazed as she, smiling happily with wet lips and a mouth full of hair.

"Mmm, thank you." she sighs, finally.

"You are most, most welcome," I rise, and slide up her naked body to kiss her lips, to let her taste her dew on mine, "Most welcome indeed. I'll be very unhappy," another swift kiss, "If you don't let me eat your cunny again."

Kyani laughs softly, "Well, I wouldn't want to anger a sorceress."

"Nor should you. You come to me whenever you like. Promise? Good, now come on before our bath gets cold again."

We jump up and, holding hands, step into the warm water. It's cooled slightly while I was lost in Kyani's jungle, but feels invigorating against my skin as we settle splashily down and recline, me leaning back against Kyani's slim body. Her hands immediately find my little breasts, groping lewdly for a long moment as I relax deeper into the water, and into her. I slip neck-deep beneath the water and I lay my head back on her shoulder.

Kyani feels my body for the simple joy of it and I am content to let her, staring at the cracked plaster ceiling, feeling her hands roam over my body, or stroke my hair. Presently she sits me up straight and starts to wash me with my sea sponge and my cherry scented soap, rubbing the rough sponge hard against my body until my skin turns pink, and then washing my long, long hair. It's a novel and very enjoyable sensation, to be washed by another. Especially by this lithe, slippery, soapy, wet woman with a kind, happy face and huge bush.

I wonder how it would feel to be washed by Clytemnestra, or better yet, to wash her magnificent body. Ah, but where would I find a bath big enough...

It's Kyani's turn and I have her stand up. Water cascades from her brown skin, running freely over her slim body and shedding in torrents from the long black hair covering her sex. I cannot resist beginning there, rubbing the pink soap all over that huge patch of hair until it is a mess of fluffy white suds which I massage lovingly with my fingers. I rub farther afield, up the hairy cleft between her firm cheeks and across her arse and back again until I'm sure she knows this is more about my fun than her cleanliness.

Eventually I have to take up the sponge and rubbing the soap on it, I scrub her all over until her brown skin is streaked with white residue and she can sit down to wash it all off while I wash her hair.

When we're done washing one another, and playing with one another, and then washing one another again, just for the fun of it, and the water is getting cool we reluctantly admit that we cannot stay in the bath all day. I let her get out first, just so I can watch the water cascade from her pubic hair again, and then follow her.

Kyani scrubs herself with a towel, but I just tell the water on my body that it's steam. All of a sudden she screams in panic as a cloud of vapour explodes from my body, and I can't help but laugh at her alarm, wafting away the thick clouds which are even now condensing on the floor, lacking enough heat to stay steam.

"Don't worry, sorry! I should have warned you."

She stammers some justifications and says she was merely surprised. I wrap my towel around me and and gather up my clothes.

"Those are mine," Kyani interjects as I pick up her white knickers and add them to my own bundle of clothes.

"I know," I smile sweetly.

"Oh... Well, um?"

I bring her knickers to my face and inhale her scent.

"I didn't realise that was your thing," she says, folding my hand around her knickers, "Enjoy."

I'm feeling very good indeed back in our room, not to mention particularly horny. Clytemnestra isn't back from her exploration of the city yet, but when she does arrive she'd better be ready for action! My escapades with Kyani have built quite a fire between my legs.

I throw off my towel and start brushing my hair in front of the mirror, enjoying my improved body very much. I wonder if it's vain to be attracted to one's own body if that body is not the one one's accustomed to wearing? There's a question for the philosophers.

My skin is smooth and flawless, my tummy is flat and my waist is so very narrow. I can almost encircle it with my hands! My nipples are proud and pointy on my teeny breasts. So cute! So tiny!

If I hadn't just eaten Kyani I'd have said my armpits and my crotch are supremely hairy too. Just for the hell of it I drag my hairbrush across my dark delta of pubic hair, enjoying the rough sensation across my most sensitive place.

I'm wet already. I get so very wet when I'm aroused these days, and order of magnitude more than I ever used to. Kyani's hairy snatch was running over with nectar, so was Isis'. Clytemnestra's cunny is almost like a tap. I think it's just the way this world is, the women here are juicy beyond the dreams of lust. Lucky old me!

I squat down in front of the mirror, spreading my knees as far apart as they will go. My aroused quim is on full display in the glass, spread and dripping wet surrounded by black hair. I run my fingers across it just once and then cup my hand with only a moment's concentration I let a little pee dribble out into my cupped palm. It feels hot and wet and thrilling and I rub it into my sex. Grinding my pleasure centre against the heel of my hand.

I do it again, cupping my hand beneath my sex and squirting a more powerful jet of piss into my hand. A little splashes onto the floor and I almost can't stop the flow before my hand overflows. I rub it quickly into my wet pubic hair before it can drain away through my fingers and when my hand is still wet with piss and juice I rub it all across my face, licking my palm and breathing deep of the smell.

It's hard not to just let myself pee now, all over the floor, but I don't want to waste it. I seize one of the copper cups next to the pitcher on the chest of draws and hold it bellow my drippy cunt. My piss comes in a torrent now, hissing and gurgling into the cup, splashing almost over the sides and I fill the small vessel almost immediately having a great deal of trouble stopping now.

I raise the cup before me, the hot, slightly frothy pee sloshing in my trembling hand. The strong, erotic smell exciting me. My reflection watches in pure lust as I bring the cup to my lips and drink. I never break eye contact with myself as I drain the cup of it's nectar. My cunt is aflame, the need to piss, barely held in check, the nasty, dirty, thrilling feeling of watching myself drink my own pee!

I fill the cup again and drink, watching my reflection, watching my hand rub at my pleasure button, watching my throat move, swallowing. When there's but a mouthful remaining in the cup I tilt my head back and tip it over my face, eyes closed, mouth open. It runs across my already wet face. Down my cheeks, into my hair.

My reflection is sordid and nasty and sexy. Squatting before me legs wide open, lewdly rubbing at her cunt, piss glistening on her face, eyes wild with lust. I want to piss all over her. I take the long mirror from the wall and lay it down, squatting over it. I massage my clitty, watching my reflection do the same beneath me, gazing at my own spread sex. I release my bladder and a powerful stream of piss jets into my reflection's face, wobbling as I masturbate and splashing everywhere from the hard glass surface.

I piss all over the mirror until a shallow, froth-islanded film of pee covers the whole surface, pooled within the wooden frame, rippling gently as the last drips fall from my cunt. I lay my hand palm down in the precious liquid and then rub the wetness all over my face, then my breasts and my already sopping wet crotch. I fall to all fours, straddling the mirror and looking into my yellow-tinted reflection's eyes through the pool of pee. I lean down and lick her, as she does me, licking the pissy glass and masturbating wildly.

I lick and lick, kissing my reflection, drinking the piss and rubbing my chest into the wet glass, my arse still high in the air, my hand abusing my burning clitty. Finally, I come, shuddering and collapse into the wet mirror, covering myself in piss. I lie here for a long time, sighing contentedly and lapping gently at the moist surface. I'm spent, and content, but soon, realise the situation I'm in.

It takes me some time to clean up after myself, I use a little magic, but it's mostly by hand, by necessity since I only know a very little magic. It was fun but I don't think I should do that too often, I conclude, as I head back to the bathroom for another bath.

Clytemnestra dumps her bags and belt on the floor, "You should have come with me, lady. A most productive morning."

I smile at her from my bed, where I've been lying for an hour or so, studying one of Lecto's books, making slide-rule calculations and noting the conclusions in my own book, "I wanted a bath. Felt good."

"A real bath is in a river or lake. It's cool and deep and big, not a little bowl of water to sit in."

"Kyani sat in mine with me. That was fun."

"Ah, that's how it is. I'm gone for a few hours and you jump in the bath with the first pretty face that wonders by?"

"Well..." Actually, that's exactly what happened, "Well, yes."

I can't help but smile warmly at the memory of that oh-so-hairy honeypot.

"Good! For one dreadful moment I thought you'd spent the entire morning reading and playing with your silly number disc."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Any progress?" she asks, peering without comprehension at my book.

"Yes, I got her knickers."

"I meant..."

"I know what you meant. It's hard to describe... Elements, some elements make sense. I can change a thing's temperature, or the wavelength... that means colour. Colour of light, or make a solid a liquid or gas or vice versa. A few other tricks too. But those are only changing one thing, trying to combine two effects is more than twice as complicated and it gets more-so from there. I don't even know where I'd begin if I wanted to create something new, rather than just altering something that already exists."

"Ah, you can't expect these things to be swift. Now put that book down and come and get some lunch."

So I do, and we go to the ordinary and eat kedgeree and apples and watch the peaceful late-lunchtime customers. Clytemnestra tells me all about her morning -- how she'd made her way to the merchants' quarter and spoken at length to caravan drivers and traders about the geography of the north and where a traveller might go next.

She talks about a long disused trading road north, and high mountain passes west and the coastal cities of the east from whence we might sail almost anywhere and she makes each option sound exciting and romantic, but gives me little by which to choose between them.

Suddenly I realise she's not talking and I've simply been sitting here daydreaming and staring into her beautiful eyes... I swiftly try to gather my wits.

"How can I choose?" I ask, weakly.

"Then perhaps I will, or perhaps not. These are just ideas. We needn't leave just yet."

"Good. I'm still not thrilled about being a... A bouncer, but this place isn't bad, or this city."

"How should you know. You've scarcely left this building since we arrived."

That's true. Clytemnestra has been out and about almost every day -- and some nights too, I think. She sleeps so much less than I, I can't blame her for not staying in our room all night. I, though, I haven't left the ordinary more than once or twice since that first day.

"Well... uh. I suppose not. I'm a country girl, always have been. I don't like cities. Cities frazzle my nerves a bit, they're too hectic, too busy, too crowded. But for a city, this isn't that bad."

"You're a strange one. Your kind build cities -- you're a social people, even more than centaurs. You love being amongst others, masses of them. I just assumed you'd be happy to be here."

"I am! Well, mostly. It's nice to have a roof, and regular meals and... and lots of women to look at... Not that they compare to you. But on the whole, no, I don't like cities."

Clytemnestra smiles at the compliment. I don't know if she believes me, though of course it's the truth. It's also true that I am enjoying the chance to rest my eyes on a lot of very attractive women, women who mostly seem to like other women.

"Ah, but you said you would travel with me, and see the world, no?" Clytemnestra asks, wistfully."

"I did."

"And will you hide away from this part of it? Come out with me tomorrow, as a favour to me, for my pleasure in your company?"