Acolyte of the Pleasure Goddess Ch. 07

Beneath her, Cenhera was moving between one man and the next, her head upraised, pressing tightly between each pair of legs. She suckled on Bryn's sack first, her large mop of hair tickling Delyssa's chin, her hands still anchored to the acolyte's thighs. With her hands, Delyssa kneaded the tunling's breasts, pinching the nipples between thumb and forefinger. Cenhera moved from Bryn to Macarh, then eventually to Vael with only the slightest hesitation, and the paladin jerked when her lips made contact with his balls.

With one hand on the top of her head and the other arm wrapped about Macarh's waist, Tulp slowly thrust forward, continuing to tease himself by rubbing his cock over Delyssa's shoulder, moving into and out of her peripheral vision.

Her jaw was screaming and her lips were starting to sore as they stretched around the two cocks in her mouth. She rolled her tongue over them both, tasting the salty fluid that leaked from each of their tips. Unable to fully close her mouth, spit poured out of her and down her chest, between her breasts and into Cenhera's hair, though the tunling seemed not to notice or care. With a free hand she stroked Macarh, levering his cock up and down, pushing it up against the Stormcatcher's round belly.

She couldn't tell which of the men came, but suddenly her mouth was filling with cum, and she leaned back. To her mild surprise it was Bryn, who moaned and cursed softly to himself. Seed spilled from her mouth, and Delyssa pressed his still-coming cock to her cheek, enjoying the sensation of the hot cum pumping out over her forehead and down the side of her face. Both Bryn's and Vael's cocks were covered in the fighter's cum, and Delyssa began to lick it off first the paladin and then the warrior. Below, Cenhera latched herself on to Bryn's churning balls, cupping them above her, working them from below like a bunch of grapes.

"I'm surprised you still had so much in you, after this morning," Delyssa said. Her voice was already raw.

Bryn exhaled a shaky sigh. "I'm not surprised by anything anymore."

Vael interrupted, gripping the base of his shaft. "Delyssa, I'm..."

She turned up to look at him, smiled at his concerned face that looked down in turn. "Yes, my love? Are you ready to come for me as well?"

He cried out, and she gathered his cock in her both her hands, pumping him as Cenhera pulled him closer by his hips, licking the skin between his balls and shaft. Vael came in a mess across Delyssa's neck and chest. He doubled over, leaning over her, his hands planted on her shoulders. With each spurt of cum, he convulsed, thrusting his hips forward.

With a final gasp and leaking cock, he raised his head and met her gaze. Their eyes locked, and she was struck by the softness in them -- the relief, the exhaustion, the vulnerability. She glimpsed something else in those dark eyes -- sorrow. Not the grief that she knew was locked up deep within the paladin, but something tender and new. Was it sorrow at having waited so long to touch her? She didn't have time to wonder. Two other men needed to come, and the night was not yet over.

She didn't know how much later it was, the passage of time only marked by grasps and gasps. She used her hands and mouth to pleasure Tulp and Macarh, and Cenhera came multiple times by her own hand while still sitting in Delyysa's lap. When all the men had come, they lounged around, Vael and Macarh chatting on the bed while Tulp and Bryn pulled Delyssa onto the edge the mattress and ate her from both sides, Bryn on his back facing up while Tulp crouched before her, their own lower bodies intertwined on the floor.

She was still messy, not having bothered to clean up after the first round. After she came in another leg-shaking orgasm, the others were ready to go once more.

To her disappointment, she didn't realize when it was that Vael first entered her. She was laying on her back, atop Bryn, who was thrusting into her rear. She was too enthralled by the pleasure of it, too focused on the underside of Tulp, who crouching above her. Cenhera was with Macarh, finally acting directly and taking him in her mouth and hands. Delyssa was lost in the sensations that bowered her, and it was only heartbeats later that she realized that she was being newly entered. Glancing down the length of her, between bounces and thrusts, she saw Vael kneeling between her legs, positioned above Bryn's face. His face was cast down, brows knitted in concentration as he worked his hips back and forth. It was a simple rhythm, but Delyssa found that it was soon overwhelming, and she was reaching yet another climax.

Her partners did not pause, and her orgasm stretched throughout their writhing. When she came down, she felt lightheaded and floaty, only peripherally aware of how Bryn was coming inside of her, or how Tulp pulled out of her mouth to fire rope after rope of his cum down over her chest. Under eyelids heavy from exhaustion she made out Vael's face. He was so beautiful in the moment, still looking down in concentration, his hands wrapped around her hips, as he began to come once more. She was filled, and Vael's seed poured out of her to mix with Bryn's on the fighter's belly. She wished that he would moan, that she could hear his release erupt out of him through gritted teeth, but the paladin was quiet in his orgasm. She let her head fall back, pressed her cheek against Tulp's leg. She felt that she was near to tears of joy.

Eventually, she realized that she was being lifted off of the fighter and wrapped up in powerful arms. She was hardly aware of whose embrace she was in. She was covered in many men's worth of cum, blissfully held by friends and lovers. They somehow all managed to tangle together on the slim bed -- She held Cenhera in her arms between herself and one of the Stormcatchers. Bryn was asleep while seated upright, his back against the stone wall, and cradled Delyssa's head in his folded lap. The other Stormcatcher nodded off while sitting against the floor, leaning against the bed, head tucked into his knees, snoring gently.

She realized the arms wrapped around her were Vael's, and felt his forehead press against the small of her back. Just awake enough to be gentle, she slowly eased herself around. The last thing she saw before a deep slumber overcame her was Vael coming out of his own exhausted sleep and, once more, their eyes met. Though the candles in the room were all snuffed, there was just enough moonlight coming in through the window for her to see his hazel eyes, dark-rimmed with sleep, staring back up at her. She sighed, smiled, and fell asleep.

#

The sun was just breaking over the eastern hills, and the traveler rode towards it. The main road running through town ran north-south, and so the wagon-trail the traveler followed was little more than a dirt path that meandered around any hill too steep for it to climb. The night's chill still clung to the desert ground, and the traveler had a cloak -- newly purchased -- wrapped about him.

He was still mostly asleep, but was used to sleeping in the saddle. His feet hung in the stirrups, and the reins were slack in his hands, but he trusted the horse to carry him. All it had to do was follow the path, after all.

As he fled, there was a part of Vael that screamed at him. He felt his heart battering against him to turn around, to urge Dereac into a gallop, to return to Ankreot and the room he was meant to share, to crawl back into bed with her before she woke.

He couldn't ignore that part of his heart, so he just cried, but Dereac led him on.

Vael knew that a part of him was broken, that he didn't have the language to express the turmoil he felt. But he also knew that Delyssa would read him, that somehow the young woman possessed the skill to peer into his soul. And he wasn't ready.

He was sworn to an old order, a caste of broken warriors like him who sought penance and purpose, to find meaning in their violence, to find some ounce of righteousness that could lead them away from despair. It was an order that saved him, had brought him back from the precipice of something truly terrible, long ago.

And he knew that he would give it all up for that girl.

He had only known her for less than a month -- had it really been such little time? But she was so unlike anyone he had ever known, so confident and kind, somehow both playful and wise. She saw through him like glass, he knew.

She transformed his companions. Bryn had always been hedonistic, but cynically so, and the wonder he know saw on his friend's face now made Vael want to weep. Even Cenhera, usually a stoic, was becoming enthralled in their infectious joy.

And what was he becoming? Someone else, it seemed. Someone happy. Who would that man be? Still a paladin of Saint Barassa? A knight who found his purpose in the lascivious trysts of his company? He had his doubts.

He gave a bitter scoff under his breath. That's all he was: a knight of doubt. An oath sword to uncertainty, and where did uncertainty lead? East, along a forgotten road before daybreak. A coward's run, a thief's departure, stealing away in the night, abandoning his friends and lovers.

Lovers.

They love you, came the small voice from his heart, the one that wept to be heard. They love you no matter what, no matter who you want to be.

Maybe I want to be a coward who runs, came a thought to Vael, another part, deeper, its roots in the black pit he tried to avoid.

He thought once more about what Delyssa said, that sex was just something one can do with their body. Well, he did it. He did it more than he ever thought he would, and in a single night. He could even admit to himself that he enjoyed it, though he was still sure that he wasn't feeling the same lust that inspired the others. Based on the reactions of the others, he had performed well. But that's all it was. A performance. An act, motions to be carried out. He cried more.

What right did he have to such pleasures? He knew what Delyssa would say to such a protest, that everyone has the right to share joy with someone they love. But not everyone. Not him. Not a killer.

He wept, and the tears steamed off his face in the morning sun.

His companions would sway him, he knew. Their joy for one another was too abundant, too pure. He would be caught up in it, but like last night, would it just be a performance?

He needed solitude. A chance to untangle the sickening knot within him. A chance to contemplate this new path, to learn who this other Vael could be.

He rode on, alone.

***