Sex and the Spellplague Ch. 07

*****

Miria's face burned. The elf's lips were moist, but her mouth was dry as the Anauroch desert. Her black hair, shimmering so deep as to be nigh blue, was gently brushed behind her elegantly pointed ear by black, long fingers, each digit as long and graceful as the drow that worked them. She could feel the heat coming from the drow's chest, and her eyelids fluttered as she breathed in the erotic, exotic fragrance about the drow.

And they'd barely crested the stairs leading to Lura's room.

The drow had stopped them, turned quickly to face Miria. Dim lamplight danced across the moon elf's fair, angular face, and Lura couldn't help but reach out and touch that silky hair. Her chest rose and fell with heated breath, but she turned and moved on quickly, eyes locking on the ornate door that marked her private room in the Dreaming Dragon. Miria's light footfalls were close behind her, and Lura's keen hearing could detect her shallow, urgent breathing as they moved hurriedly.

They reached the door, inlaid with small gold etchings and a bust of Sune decorating the center of the portal, her porcelain face smiling, silver eyes glimmering as if in approval of the two. Miria ran her fingers over the surprisingly warm surface, as well as the corona of red marble that formed Sune's hair, as Lura led her into her room. The door closed with a wave of the drow's hand, and she turned to face Miria, lips parted and chest swelling with ragged breath.

Lura's room was low lit with darkfire, purplish flames dancing in sconces placed intermittently around the walls, and also in dark-hued candelabras. With a blink of her eyes, the flames shifted in hue to a mix of gold and red, accenting the Sunite décor of luxuriously cushioned seats, a large four-post bed draped in red shimmerweave and cloth-of-gold sashes. Everything about the room, to Miria, was rich with Sune's influence, and accented by drow tastes.

The emotion that burst forth from Miria's heart had slowed from a pyroclastic torrent to a steady flow of need and desire for the drow and for Sune. She came forward, slowly despite her urgency, and brought her hands, pale as opal, up to Lura's gleaming obsidian-skinned face. The contrast of their two skins excited Miria's eyes nearly as much as the warm, electric touch of drow-flesh. Lura's hands danced to her hips, and suddenly the moon elf was yanked forward, soft violet lips mashing against her own mouth, a warm, delicious tongue beckoning entrance. Miria's soft moan was muffled by Lura, elicited by the drow's hands slipping around to the low of her back, then lower to the swell of her shapely bottom, not quite as hard as it had been in her fighting days.

Lura also moaned, a grin fighting her pursed, tongue-parted lips as the soft flesh was pressed beneath her fingers like so much soft bread, wrapped in white silk. She felt Miria's hands slide from her cheeks, down her neck and under her hair. They slid to the bunched up straps of her gown and slowly pushed them toward her shoulders until they simply fell off. The scarlet garment dropped a bit until the cloth caught on Lura's bent arms. Her breasts, the upper portions of them at least, were exposed, and Miria found herself breaking their kiss that she may gaze upon the supple, soft orbs. Dark areolas peeked out from under the gown, hiding suddenly hardened nipples from Miria's sight, though they tented the fabric fiercely.

"Lura..." the moon elf said breathlessly.

"I am yours, Miria," the drow responded, a smile growing on her face. She backed away two small paces, her hands falling by her side. The gown fell into a pool around her feet, baring her naked drow body. Her breasts were everything Miria remembered: well over an elven handful, supple and round, and capped with turgid, dark nipples that simply demanded suckling. Her eyes traversed downward, over her trim waist to the flare of her hips. A neat little tuft of pristine white hair was nestled just above her sex in a narrow strip, and Miria felt her eyes stick to that feature, along with the swell of her sex, hidden between her closed thighs.

Suddenly, gentle fingers were on her chin, lifting her face to look deep into swirling pools of garnet and gold. Black fingertips slid down her throat, a painted nail dragging over the hollow of her throat as it descended lower. Her skin quivered and her body quaked, but her eyes remain enraptured by Lura's swirling orbs. Lura slid her three middle fingers down Miria's chest, down into her cleavage. She felt the cleavage of the lithe elf's breasts against her fingers' lengths even as she hooked the garment in her fingers. Before Miria knew it, her gown was slipping down her body, exposing her pale, thin frame to the warm, fragrant air of Lura's room. Her breasts, high and noble, were capped with pink, hard nipples that stood out impudently from the soft swells. Though she was softer than last she had been with Lura, she retained the sleek, elven physique, svelte and demure.

Lura's hands slid around to her back, the larger drow breasts pressing against Miria's as their warmth mingled. That sensation, the touching of bodies and the clash of heat and desire, ignited both their passions. They kissed with heated desire, tongues slashing at each other as their eager hands roamed soft, tapered backs. It was Lura, though, he took the initiative. She put her hands on Miria's shoulders and pushed her back, not roughly, but insistently, until the moon elf was against the door. She pushed on her forehead, holding her head back even as her face moved to the pale, vulnerable neck. Miria's throat leapt and flexed as Lura's lips and tongue danced over it. Lura drug her fingernails up Miria's pale thigh, nearing the clean-shaven mound of sex atop it, and grinned as the elf's throat hummed with a coarse moan when her fingers pressed into that mound.

The drow pulled away from Miria's neck, leaving the elf gasping as she stared back. Lura worked her fingers along the elf's slit, and Miria found her thighs parting in eager response. Slowly kneeling, Lura's lips dance over the soft breast-flesh and latch onto the turgid, pink nipples. She closes her eyes, suckling gently on them as her fingers slid slowly over the elf's soft slit, spreading the nectar around her mound before pushing back, toward her canal, and then into it.

"Oh...Lura!"

*****

Alluva's throat rumbled but the only sound that escaped her mouth as soft, wet noise. Buried in the generous globes of her bottom, Varla's face shifted back and forth, her tongue dutifully lapping and poking at her puckered, pliable anus. The lithe, sultry woman moaned into the pristine hole, throwing herself into the desirable task of rimming the mature woman with gusto. Varla pushed her tongue hard into the hole, spreading it apart around her tongue as she slithered it as deep as possible, even going so far as to push her saliva into the quivering hole.

Her hands were, regrettably, occupied kneading the supple globes of Alluva's ass, squeezing and massaging the soft mounds of flesh while her tongue did its work. The musk of Alluva's sopping cunt, lathered in her own nectar and Varla's saliva, called to her, begged her to dive face first into it and suck every drop of her juice down. Alluva's asshole suddenly clenched on her tongue, and the woman shivered in an anally induced orgasm. Varla grinned at the luxuriant taste of the woman's anus.

As for the sorceress, she had her hands full with Hammer. Hands, and mouth, that is, as her face thrust forward quickly, cheeks bulging slightly as the barbarians heroic manhood pushed against the back of her throat. One of her hands held onto his hip for stability, but the other gripped his virile sack firmly, squeezing subtly on the heavy orbs as she slid her lips, tongue, and whole mouth all along his shaft, inhaling the meat to the barrier of his throat or sliding her lips and tongue along its flanks, alternating.

Her eyes, glinting and half-lidded, gazed up at the square-jawed face looking down at her. His hand, thick and strong, was buried in her luxuriant, thick hair, guiding her head back and forth despite the fact that she had his cock well in hand. Sweat glistened over his body, and he knew that his sack, swollen with virile, barbarian seed, was ready to burst. So he pulled out of her mouth, holding her eager face back with one hand, and let his orgasm surge through his shaft, coating her face with his pristine pearly semen. It splattered into her hair, her forehead, over her cheeks, and on her lips, which she licked eagerly, a grin on her face.

"It seems I've not lost my touch to make a mighty man like yourself burst so quickly," she said, her voice low and husky as Varla continued eating her anus. But then she stopped, standing to show off her slender, seductive body. Alluva looked over her shoulder at the woman's knowing smile.

"First barbarian?" she asked, and Alluva only arched her brow. That is, until mighty Hammer lifted her in his arms and turned her about, placing her on her hands and knees before him, ass propped up before him.

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking over her shoulder again, this time to look up at Hammer's grinning face, then down to his throbbing, stubborn manhood. It was wet with saliva, and she watched as the glistening head slipped between the cheeks of her ass. His fat cockhead pushed against her anus, and her eyes rolled back into her head, laughing with glee as she felt her rectum parted and filled with generous man-meat.

Varla grinned, brushing some of her hair out of her face as she knelt in front of Alluva. Her hands clasped the woman's face and she branded her lips with a searing kiss before twisting herself and worming her way underneath the large-breasted woman. Before Alluva knew what was happening to her, Varla was sucking and lapping at her pussy while Hammer thrust deeper and deeper into her pliant anus, stretching her inner anal walls with his massive prick. She grunted and moaned aloud, but Hammer put his hand on the back of her head and pushed it down into Varla's waiting snatch. Without hesitation, the sorceress put her mouth to work returning the favor the young woman was giving her, even going so far as to finger her anus and pussy while simultaneously sucking the girl's clitoris.

The older woman's body veritably thrummed around his thick, meaty prick. Hammer positioned himself for a long haul, his hips just above hers, his cock angled down into her anus slightly as he plowed deeper with each thrust until he was fully hilted each time he burrowed into her. He assumed a steady, forceful rhythm, her plump rear jiggling against his hips with each thrust even as her moaning jolted. He could feel Varla's face against his pendulous sack repeatedly, and even felt her tongue lapping at his greased shaft and sack at times.

And Varla couldn't have been happier. The dragon slayer's cunt was gushing fluids over her face; she even thought that the woman had cum a few times, squirting such an amount of fluid onto her face that she had to take a breath and swallow deeply before continuing her oral assault. The smooth, thin-haired sack swinging just above her forehead, slapping noisily into Alluva's mound, was too tempting a target also. She broke from the sopping cunt to savor the salty flesh of Hammer's manhood and Alluva's rectum on his shaft as he withdrew.

*****

Neither Lidia nor Cyra were for subtlety. Many of the gathered guests had left the banquet room, but those that remained were enjoying themselves thoroughly. After all, a half-dragon and a tiefling were stark naked, clad only in dripping sweat and burgundy wine.

Lidia lay on her back on the table, random bits of food and empty dishes under her body and her full-spread wings. Her legs were splayed wide apart, her hands mauling at her own heavy breasts. Cyra stood at the edge of the table, a magically conjured prosthetic firmly rooted in her own cunny to provide leverage as the tiefling pounded fiercely into the half-dragon's cunt. Her breasts heaved and bounced as her body rammed into Lady Drake's body.

"Gods, you're an animal," Lidia grunted, her long nails digging into the soft flesh of her breasts. The molded around her fingers, her hard nipples bulging outward as they bulged. Her leathery wings fluttered, knocking dishes to the ground. Fire crossed over Cyra's brow again, her petite horns flickering as well. Lidia watched in fascination as they began to grow, fire dancing over the bony protuberances and forming a burning halo above them as the curled back along her scalp, then up slightly. Her pupils dilated to consume her irises and, finally, the whites of her eyes. The tiefling leaned down. Lidia's legs pulled up, heels digging into a burnished red ass. Her pale skin clashed with Cyra's reddish skin.

There were murmurs around the room, but Cyra nor Lidia heard them. The half-dragon was lost in Cyra's gaze, her eyes swimming in the black expanse of Cyra's. Flames danced from Cyra's hands, igniting the table under Lidia, then dying away just as quickly. Fire flared at Cyra's crown, in her eyes. Fire dripped like sweat from her pores. It fell on Lidia's pale skin. She howled, but embraced the burn. Her hands gripped Cyra's back, her fingers digging deep into the tiefling's toned back. Lidia's eyes opened wide, her nostrils flaring as she breathed in Cyra's scent.

"Who is your father," she asked as her vagina received such a brutal pounding that she wasn't certain she would be bruised from within. Cyra ignored her, grunting in a voice that was at once deep and ancient, undertoning her normal, sultry voice. Lidia grasped her by her horns, ignoring the burn from her crown of flame, and yanked her down, eliciting a growl and moan from Cyra.

"Who is your father!"

Fire ignited along Cyra's back, dancing intricate weaves. Her tail thickened and pulsed, curling upward as fire caressed the appendage. Her breasts ground into Lidia's. Her mouth was a snarl, fire flickering behind her pearly teeth, seeming sharper now than before.

"Who is your father, Cyra!"

"Vulcanustus!" she roared, and fire blazed bright both within her breast and along her back. The proclamation brought with it a momentous orgasm, her cunny pouring a deluge of molten hot nectar down her thighs. Her release evoked a psychic emanation that filled the room, expanding outward from Cyra's burning person. It hit Lidia the hardest, her wings tensing and flapping violently against the table and the coupled pair as her entire body racked in orgasms. She spurted creamy fluid all over Cyra's stomach and thighs, mingling and steaming with Cyra's much hotter discharge. Around the room, serving girls and boys, as well as Benefast and Donnara experienced their own sexual release, though diminished from Cyra and Lidia's.

When all was done, the fire shrouding Cyra was gone, but her horns and her eyes remained the same, save for the oblong, vertical pupils, a smoldering orange shade now. "Wh-what was that?" she asked, and despite her appearance, her voice was its normal sultry timbre.

"You are not a tiefling," Lidia said, stroking her feet up the woman's back, her arms wrapping around her lovingly. "You are half dragon. Your father is a young red. And we are sisters."

*****

"Come now, big Hammer," Alluva said, curled up against Varla's back. The younger woman was stroking his cock rapidly, licking her lips as her hand ground into his slick cockflesh. He was grinning down at both women, eyeing their breasts: Alluva's large mounds were pressed firmly into Varla's back, the orbs bulging out to the sides. Varla's body was more lithe, slender, her breasts more compact, though no less desirous. He manhandled them, growling in his throat as his cock pulsed in Varla's hand.

"The girl isn't doing it well enough, I see," Alluva said, smirking. Varla growled, but quivered as Alluva slithered one hand between the two women, finding the younger woman's ass crack, and digging in toward her anus, rubbing the rosebud with her middle finger. She maneuvered so that Varla was on her stomach, Alluva atop her with her breasts smashed into Varla's back. She grabbed Hammer's cock with her broad lips and open mouth. Her hand shot out at his sack and yanked him forward, filling her throat with thick, virile mancock.

Hammer took the cue, grabbing hold of the sorceress's hair, drawing out of her throat, and shoving his cock forcefully into her throat. He didn't waste time warming her up; the woman knew her way around big meat. He fucked her throat remorselessly, and her eyes, tearing up, showed her enjoyment at the abuse.

The gurgling, wet sounds coming from her mouth echoed in the empty room and Varla purred at the music. The thinner woman slithered around under the dragonslayer, twisting so that her breasts mashed against Alluva's. She nipped and licked at the woman's throat, and soon she was feeling the crown of Hammer's cock bulging the neck slightly, eliciting a grin. Then she noticed the heavy sack, lightly dusted with soft curls, bounding back and forth as he thrust powerfully into Alluva's mouth. Her saliva dripped down his shaft and onto his balls, then dripped off onto her forehead. She let out a small gasp of amusement, then moved her tongue to lash at the big man's swaying sack.

When finally the barbarian pulled his mighty meat out of the woman's throat, saliva and throat mucus coated his meat and hung in thick ropes from the meat, which drooped down onto Varla's face. She laughed in glee, licking her lips and, before she could bring Alluva's face into a kiss, Hammer's cockhead pushed past her lips. Reacting with practiced ease of throat-fucking, Varla accepted the cock into her mouth, her throat instinctively closing as the blunt head shoved against it.

Then, she opened up for him, felt herself gag, almost wretch, before the shaft plunged in deeply, stretching her throat. She couldn't breathe, but the meat in her throat was worth the discomfort.

"Ah, the girl can suck cock after all," she moaned, bending down to lash the girl's neck with her tongue and teeth in much the same way Varla had just done.

The barbarian grunted, a grin on his face, then suddenly pulled his cock away from Varla's face. Before either woman could respond, he let forth a long, flowing arc of pearly white cum, splashing onto Alluva's face and dripping down onto Varla's face. The women giggled and kissed at each other as the barbarian backed away.

"I am surprised a barbarian would expire so quickly," Alluva said, purring as she licked up a puddle of white cum from Varla's forehead.

Rumbling laughter sounded from behind the dragonslayer, and she felt his cock—still hard—thrust forcefully into her anus. She howled, almost roaring like a she-dragon, as her anus struggled to stretch around his member.

"The Thunderborn do not flag, Lady Dragonslayer, until they are finished."

*****

Excitement and uncertainty flowing through her with unabashed vigor, Cyra left the Dreaming Dragon in a hurry, barely wrapped in a plain gray gown that did little to accentuate her athletic, voluptuous frame. She could feel her horns tingling, something that was decidedly new to her. Running through the streets, heedless of many shadowy figures following her, she made directly for the Armanov estate. Surely this new feature would snare Samon's attention from his "familial obligations."

Panting slightly when she reached his front door, she banged once, twice, thrice, then decided to make her own entrance when nobody answered the door.

So Cyra the tiefling—no, Cyra the half-dragon moved to a nearby window and used the fire that came so utterly natural to her to warp and melt the glass. She moved through, lacerating her gown and a bit of flesh in the doing, but cared not.

She was in a room that she'd never seen before. It was dark, but that was no issue to the practiced thief and red dragon's spawn. A thought occurred to her that perhaps she should have been aware of this fact earlier in her life. Perhaps some magic or another had hidden it away from her, partitioning that particular part of her mind and genetics into the recesses of her mind where she'd never look. Shrugging, she trusted Lidia's assertion. After all, she was truly half dragon, wings and all. She should know her kind, nay?