Come Get Me, Fwin

Fwin groaned, "I need to take a piss," he said.

Violet barely stopped before he jumped off and walked rapidly into the plains. I got down too, curiously. I hadn't felt the need to piss or shit at all during these days of shadow walking. I had thought it wasn't needed. I glanced towards Fwin's path and saw him behind a bush, hunched awkwardly.

His posture didn't look like a man urinating at all. One of the things about being a shadow is that when you walk, you make no noise. So it was easy to get close to Fwin without drawing his attention. I rounded the far side of the bush so I could see what he was doing.

Fwin had his eyes closed, head bent down, hips thrust forward. His cock was naked and pointed straight up in his jerking grip. My mouth dropped open a bit, my saliva dried. My heart thundered and my pelvis pulsed with sudden arousal. I couldn't have moved if I wanted to, my eyes caught by his urgent need.

I glanced up to his face and was shocked by the sight of his eyes locking onto mine. His lips parted and he smirked a little as a line of cum erupted from his cock, landing right on the corner of his mouth. Gaze still on mine, he flicked his tongue out and gathered up the errant sperm, licking it into his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," I moaned as I crossed my arms and snapped my fingers.

I jolted awake in bed. Gorey wasn't there, which wasn't unusual. He often slept on his favorite chair, rather than in bed. So there was no audience as I masturbated myself, caught in the memory of watching Fwin cum.

I couldn't stop thinking about it all that day as I struggled to focus on anything else. I had certainly seen men masturbate before. I had certainly been the cause of that masturbation. Yet, something about Fwin sparked intense arousal in me. Despite worrying over it all day, I couldn't pinpoint what it was about him that affected me so.

He was such a mystery, restrained in one moment and wanton in the next. Sexual energy seemed to emanate from him, and yet he never proposed that we have sex. I mean, he certainly knew I was married, and so was he. So there was that. It would have been easier to dismiss him if he had ever made a direct pass at me or any kind of negative comment about Gorey. I could, and often did, dismiss men for just that sort of thing.

That night, after the kids were tucked in, I tried to tell the story about my Flandoran sheriff to Gorey. I wanted to see if I could spark the same arousal in him, experience the same sexual energy in this newly discovered way with my husband.

"You just joined an expedition to Flandor without any idea what you were doing?" He asked, incredulous, after I'd barely started.

"Yes, but that's not the point, Gorey," I said, exasperated.

I rushed through the next parts of the story, trying to get to the good bit without further interruption. No such luck, unfortunately.

"Why didn't you leave with the first deserters? Why did you press the issue with Lisha, couldn't you read her attitude? You were put in jail?" This last question practically exploded from Gorey.

I sighed and thudded my head back into my pillow, "Never mind."

"No, what? You're stopping there? I want to hear the rest of the story," my husband protested.

"That's it, the end. The sheriff finally came by, realized it was all a mistake, and sent me home."

"That's it? Why did you want to share that story with me?"

"I have no idea," I mumbled as I turned to my side and closed my eyes.

Hours later, I still lay awake as my husband snored happily beside me. Guiltily, I whispered the words, "Come get me, Fwin."

"Up late?" Fwin asked from behind me on the horse.

"Yeah," I replied, uninterested in sharing details.

We didn't talk about what had happened the night before. We didn't tell stories to each other. We just rode through the night, quietly. Maybe Fwin sensed that if he pushed me, I would really never come back. Maybe he was battling his own internal yearnings. Who knows?

Regardless, in the morning, I woke feeling well rested and refreshed. I had a day off, but Gorey had to work. I spent the day corralling and entertaining and feeding our kids. In the early afternoon, I carved out a few hours of peace for myself as the kids settled into their own hobbies. Inconveniently, my thoughts whirled around Fwin and Gorey. I craved my husband's touch to chase away my inconvenient desires.

When my husband finally got home, he burst in. Full of life, as always, filling the hobbit hole with his presence. I grinned and threw myself into his arms, feeling at home. In contrast to Fwin, Gorey was short and stout, a bear of a man who wrapped me in his arms, comforting in his solidity. It irritated me that I was even comparing the two men. On the one hand, there was my husband, the father of my kids, the man who'd supported everything I wanted to do for twelve long years, the only man I'd thought about or lusted for in all that time. And on the other hand? A male I knew barely anything about - other than that he had figured out how to arouse me really fucking well.

Damn him anyway.

"What's wrong, wife?" Gorey asked, knowing me as well as if I was an extension of his body.

"I missed you," I replied honestly.

He kissed my head and held me close. I tried to imagine telling him about what I'd discovered, about my nighttime sojourns. I couldn't imagine a way to bring up the subject that wouldn't hurt him, though. And I never wanted to hurt him.

That night, I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned, waking every fifteen minutes until I gave in, and called to Fwin. It was hours later than usual when I appeared, but he didn't mention it. Like the previous night, we were back to our careful distance, no stories told, no daring touches. I relaxed, this was going to be OK then. We could make it to the Lythantan desert, all I had to do was not encourage anything.

Simple!

Another five days passed in pleasant peacefulness, talking over our lives and interests, but nothing too personal, and only lightly skipping over sex every once in a while. Fwin and I had known each other a while now, and I felt we were becoming friends. I enjoyed the building understanding of each other, finding I really liked him as a person. He was intuitive, responsive, funny, and kind.

By this time, we were riding in the shadow of The Knurl. Two or three days and we'd be in the mountains, making our own path through the rocky peaks. I was eyeing the foothills, searching out the best place to begin our climb, when Fwin suddenly pushed me low and forward into Violet's back, spurring her into a gallop.

I squashed the desire to pop my head up and look around, asking for an explanation for our abrupt change in speed. It would be really stupid to distract Fwin just now, I knew.

"Snipe fly," Fwin took the time to say as we bounded towards the mountains.

I reviewed what I knew about them from our conversation weeks ago. They couldn't be killed, Fwin had said. The best chance was to put enough distance between yourself and it so that it would lose interest; apparently, they were fickle. If one couldn't be avoided, the next best bet was to leave the astral plane and wait a couple days before coming back.

Neither of us wanted to sit at home for several days, so clearly we were going to attempt the first option. There was nothing for me to do but hold on and keep quiet so that Fwin and Violet could work together in synchronicity like the long-established team they were.

My arms and thighs ached with the effort to keep myself bent low and centered across the horses back. Worse, my pussy and ass felt like they were getting beaten with a log. Still, I figured that Violet and Fwin were suffering more. The horse, because she had to do the actual running, and Fwin because this can't have felt good on his balls.

The sun was rising when we finally stopped. I flopped off of Violet's back like a blob of jelly, landing on my legs first, then my ass as those crumbled.

Fwin frowned down at me as he dismounted easily and with no sign of pain. I hated him a little for that.

"You alright?" he asked, eyeing me with worry.

I laughed, "I'm fantastic," and surprisingly I found I meant it. I hadn't had that much excitement in years, and it felt great. It felt like being alive.

Fwin raised an eyebrow and grinned at me, "That was fun, wasn't it?"

I gulped down my laugh and nodded, "Let's do it again tomorrow night."

Fwin shook his head, "We're all going to be too sore to do that again tomorrow."

While I wouldn't feel the effects in my actual body, our shadow forms worked just like our real anatomy, just in another dimension. I had felt sore those first few nights, unaccustomed to riding. But during the day I'd felt normal. I groaned as I imagined how much I'd hurt the next night.

"It was worth it, though," Fwin mused.

"Yeah," I agreed.

Our progress through the mountains was slow over the next weeks. During the days, everything in my home life continued as normal. The monotonous routine was only broken by my occasional forays to the Adventurers' Guild, as always.

"I don't mind you going there," Gorey told me one day as I headed out, "I trust you not to go wandering off. It just fantasies, right? That doesn't bother me, you know."

I wondered where he would put my nightly ventures, in the category of fantasy or going wandering? Like all the questions I didn't ask Fwin, I didn't ask my husband this question either. I didn't want to stop, and I didn't want to feel guilty about it. So I just ignored all the thorny issues of whether this particular kind of thing was strictly acceptable to Gorey. Based on the conversations we had, I didn't think I'd crossed his line yet, but I was dangerously close to it.

That same day, Rusty and the Wool Gatherers arrived back at the Adventurers' Guild after their orcish adventure. I was sitting at Fwin's old table, it really was the perfect spot to watch the room and not be too noticeable. There was a commotion at the door and then I caught sight of the pixie and his goblin crew.

Immediately, Rusty was required to tell everyone what he'd gotten up to with the orc virgins, beer flowing freely to lubricate his lips. Always a showman, the pixie stood on the table and orated, spinning a great yarn about his shock upon discovering the promised virgins were not of the traditional virgin gender, instead being men.

I laughed heartily along with the rest of the tavern as Rusty described the process of negotiating bride rights for the horde, which had started the whole trouble in the first place. The orc tribe had converted to some religion that required monogamy, which played havoc on the four-to-one ratio of males to females in the orc tribe.

Apparently, Rusty had orchestrated some very public demonstrations of just how orc men could get on among themselves without women. The residing religious leader, a missionary who'd never actually seen orcs before he set out to convert them, had been so alarmed by the demonstration that he made an emergency declaration that polygamy was allowed. This solution met with everyone's approval.

After an hour of entertaining and answering questions for the guild, Rusty took advantage of a quiet moment to slip into a booth with me.

"Where's Fwin?" He asked.

"Went after the morass," I replied. No need to mention that he was taking me with him.

Rusty grinned, "Then you're all mine, hmm?"

I laughed, "I'm all my husband's you mean?"

Rusty grabbed one of my hands and pressed it to his lips, "Are you sure I can't lure you away from that humorless dwarf?"

I jerked my hand out of his and rolled my eyes, irritated, "I got the last person who talked about my husband like that kicked out of the guild," I warned.

Rusty's eyes got wide, "Awww... I didn't mean anything by it. I've just been completely without female company for a month, and I'm feeling randy. Forgive me."

"Forgiven," I huffed, "if you never do it again."

"Cross my heart."

The tension eased as Rusty changed the topic, but he kept giving me moon eyes. I barely paid attention to his story, as I wondered why Rusty's touch didn't arouse at all. He was funny, daring, sexual. Yet, I felt nothing from him. What the fuck was up with Fwin's ability to get under my skin?

I blinked as Rusty snapped his fingers in my face, "Ay, Kletara! Are you in there?"

"Huh?"

"I cannot believe you have been ignoring me," Rusty pouted.

"I think I'd better be getting home anyway," I said and bustled out of the guild, my mind full of cycling thoughts. I was halfway home before I remembered my intention to finance a night lady for Rusty on his return. Oh well, I'd do it the next time I saw him, I decided.

This was the reason I couldn't stand staying still. My mind would never let me relax. Always analyzing, always plotting out scenarios, always gnawing over a problem. It took so much work to wrench my brain to any one topic, I could barely even sleep anymore. Instead, waking in the middle of the night to check on thoughts I'd churned out the day before.

Actually, adventuring with Fwin had given me the best sleep I'd had in the months since finishing up my last big project. I needed to exhaust my brain every day if I wanted any hope of rest. But with Fwin, my brain was occupied on adventures, and rest came easy.

That night, Fwin and I reached the peak of The Knurl. We looked down and out across the desert together. The wind felt cool, but not uncomfortable, a benefit of astral travel was never being too cold or too hot.

We'd been dancing around each other since that night on the plains, flirting, lightly touching, becoming comfortable with our growing mutual attraction. I had stopped trying to deny it to myself, I liked Fwin, too much. Whether it was the way he made me laugh or never asked for anything from me, he was just easy to be around and fun. That would have been fine, if not for the fucking sexual tension. It had got to a point where it no longer felt innocent, and I couldn't do that do Gorey.

Yet still, I was here, with Fwin. Maybe there was a way I could have this for myself? I was still thinking about it, even though I knew that the fact I felt I had to justify why this was OK meant it wasn't.

"We'll be at the cave in a week," Fwin said, breaking into my thoughts.

"It's all downhill from here," I agreed, stating the obvious.

"I've really enjoyed travelling with you, listening to your stories, telling you mine," Fwin said.

"Me too," I replied honestly.

"I especially enjoyed your tale about Flandor. That sheriff was a lucky man."

My clit tingled at the mention of it. We hadn't talked about it since that night.

"I enjoyed that too," I admitted. "More than I thought possible, really."

We were silent for a while. Or at least we didn't speak. My blood pounded in my ears and my breath seemed rough and heavy.

"I wouldn't encourage a repeat," I finally said, then whispered in spite of my best intentions, "or discourage it."

"I don't need any encouragement," Fwin said.

"I'm married," I said, mostly to remind myself.

"I don't mind," Fwin replied.

Contrary to all my previously steady instincts and principles, that admission aroused me. I had always held my fidelity so dear, had never been tempted to stray at all. I couldn't quite reconcile this new unprecedented acceptance of previously forbidden possibilities with my sense of self.

Who was I?

Into this question, Fwin poured compliments and attention. Every night for the next week, as I laid down to bed, I told myself I wouldn't say the words. And every night I broke my promise, delving deeper into Fwin's dream.

I told myself that it was Ok because it wasn't real. It wasn't wrong because there was no shared fantasy of an affair, only stories and the excitement of being a voyeur. It wasn't cheating, because we never touched more than those brief touches that would be wholly innocent to any other two people.

On the surface, there was nothing wrong. Taken in pieces, I'd had all the same sorts of interactions with dozens of men since settling into monogamy, and never had I ever felt like this. The puzzle enthralled me as much as the man.

If I were single, I'd just fuck him and see if the tension died or grew. But, I couldn't take that risk now that I was married. If it died, then that would be fine. If it went the other way? Hell, it had been going the other way from the start. My brain spun a fairy tale for me in which this unusual attraction meant an unusual compatibility and indulging would result in greater happiness.

But that was childish thinking. Fairy tales didn't happen, and Fwin had offered no illusions about his motivations. He was here for the discussions and a bit of companionship in a place, that at least for him, felt safely separated from his real life. He might be able to risk fucking in a fantasy world without it affecting his marriage, but I couldn't. And more than anything, I valued my marriage, truly I did.

I was happy, I had a good husband, I had kids who needed stability, and why was I here, risking all of that, just for what? What drew me here again and again. It wasn't lust, it wasn't sexual need. If I could only identify the attraction, if I could quantify it, then I could make sense of what I was doing, and what I should do next. But, no amount of analyzing had yet presented a clear answer, much to my frustration.

As we neared the morass, I began to feel more and more uneasy about my nightly travels. On the day we arrived at the cave entrance, we stood before it together, thoughtful. The moon blazed bright and full, lighting up the desert night as if it was daytime. But the hole before us was a void.

"I heard the Drek Crew made it to the morass a week ago. Truna saw it in her scrying sphere. She said that when they came out, they were different, changed somehow." Vityla and Yash had never made it in, and the Ghumption were as constant as death and had not been affected in any way by the magic in the cavern.

"Magic that powerful, it's sure to change anyone," Fwin said.

"I'm not sure I want to change," I said.

Fwin glanced at me curiously, "Can you turn back now?"

His hand found mine, and held it. It was the most direct contact we'd had, the most direct admission of the tension that flowed between us.

"I don't like this feeling of temptation to do something that might be bad for my family. Changing would be bad for them, I know it," we weren't talking about the morass anymore, and we both knew it.

"I don't want anything bad for you," Fwin said.

My heart squeezed, "I honestly don't know if it would be bad for me. But it'd be bad for them, and I couldn't choose myself over them."

I was grateful that Fwin didn't try to suggest that nothing in this astral plane was real anyway, no matter what he believed. Just like he'd never insulted my husband or pushed any of my boundaries. He'd only offered his time, his stories, and this shared adventure.

Sighing, I crossed my arms, "I'll see you tomorrow night," I said as I snapped my fingers.

I spent the entire next day worrying over making a choice I didn't want to make. Why should I have to give up something I did in my spare time that I owed to absolutely no one? Something that made me happy? I considered how I would feel if I found out Gorey was visiting a specific woman in his dreams every night.

I felt a bit excited at the thought, because it would give me permission to continue.

Fuck! I realized that the same idea would have physically made me feel sick mere months ago. Was this what it had come to? I was hoping my husband would take up an extra-marital interest just so I could excuse my own?

That was utter bullshit. I knew what I had to do. I really didn't want to, which meant I really had to.