Quincunx Ch. 10

Story Info
More is better.
4.7k words
4.68
14.1k
3
0

Part 10 of the 30 part series

Updated 10/08/2022
Created 01/31/2013
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Three
More is better

She put her cofftea down and secured the door behind me as I too put my cup down. As I turned to her at the door, she was disrobing, revealing her Rubenesque figure, her voluptuous breasts still firm and plump.

"Don't worry about cumming, I take Arabesca. We all do here," she informed me as she stepped out of her knickers. I was too busy undressing myself to pay heed to the meaning of Arabesca. My knob was stiffening fully as I bent to push my underpants down.

I sat on the side of the bed, pulling myself free with my feet, my knob measuring its full height against my belly as I leant slightly forward.

"Wow, you're big," she exclaimed as I straightened up. "You'll not need aravig."

I looked up at her, scanning her body as she walked the few steps between us. Her thighs were thick but firm and well defined, double/triple handfuls in the lush globes, with their pert, pointy nipples riding atop of them.

She crawled past me and pulled me down with her. Burying my head between her breasts and my hand in reach of her cunny, I turned my head up, licking up the slope of her breast while my hand snuck fingers down to play with her pubic hair.

I turned myself to kneel beside her, my now freed hand taking the other nipple, whilst I split my fingers and began to massage her plump lips, squeezing gently as my fingers went back and fore.

She gave a groan and stretched out her arm to grasp my knob, rubbing her thumb over my helmet as she waggled it about. I let my groan of appreciation out through my nose as I sucked harder and let it plop as I stretched the areola out.

She moaned and rolled her head as I slipped a third finger between her fattened lips and skimmed over her clit and down between the silky folds of skin, coating it in her plentiful juices. As my finger played at her entrance, I thought of her taste, of my tongue scooping the juices and the aroma flooding up my nose.

I swapped breasts and slid my finger to penetrate her, feeling her beginning to pull and slide her hand on my knob. As she pulled, I stopped sucking and started kissing down her stomach, while bringing my leg around to straddle her.

I felt her hot breath as her mouth engulfed my knob, her hand firm around its root as she pushed up on it with her lips. I pulled her legs further apart and trailed my tongue down over her clit, eliciting a mumbled groan that brought an exciting tickle to my shaft. I dove deeper, circling over her flattened lips and lapping at her juices.

As she shivered under me, I traced my tongue back to her clit. Teasing and playing with it till she shuddered, her hips jerking slightly. Her moans sending tingles down my knob as she continued her sucking.

The thrill lapped through me, my body tensing with the mounting pleasure as I pressed my lips to hers, sucking her clit into my mouth. I flicked at it with the tip of my tongue, fluttering over it as my lips squeezed it tight. She groaned and shuddered again, her sucking stopping as her mouth fell open.

I opened my lips slightly and tickled it, gently waggling my tongue and then pressed it down with a massage. Her hips thrust against me and she shrieked as her back arched and a massive shudder ran through her, her hips twisting up as I pulled free.

While she lay bereft of wit and wisdom, oblivious to all in the throes of her orgasm, I switched around, kneeling between her legs and stroking my knob in the crack of her cunny. As she stilled, I gently eased my head inside her, feeling the soft, silky flesh enclose my throbbing head and shaft.

She reached up to take my head as I leant forward to slide fully in, my hands covering her breasts with my arms along her midriff. I could feel her heart beating as I cupped and squeezed her plump mounds, feeling her hard nipples in my palm.

I began to thrust slowly, drawing my full length as her exquisite hunny hole squeezed tight on my shaft. Her hands shifted on my neck, pulling my head down between her bounteous breasts, then moving back to seek her nipples as her fingers wormed their way under mine.

As my speed increased, my thrusts shortened, my balls swinging free as my tush bounced up and down. I no sooner established my rhythm than she shuddered again, her hands pressing her breasts into my head as my arms fell to her sides.

My shaft was tingling with delight in her tight hunny hole, sending surges of pleasure into my balls as I vigorously stroked, my head still buried between her rolling breasts as her fingers played with her nipples.

"Ah." Another shiver made her tremble. I could feel her chest heaving as she gulped air and hear her heart thud as her next climax approached. Her legs twisted around me as her hips thrust with mine and then she screamed, her hands gripping my head as her back arched and her legs pressed me to her.

As she shuddered, the waves of pleasure swept up my shaft. I pushed myself up, turning my head to look at her, eyes screwed closed and her lips drawn tight. I waited till she relaxed and slowly resumed my stroking, long and slow as her hips twitched again beneath me.

She begged me faster and I obliged, seeking my own release as she started fingering her nipples again while I rocked my hips and felt the pleasure surge with every stroke. I felt my balls tightening as the tension grew in my groin, my hips jerking from the imminent release.

I exploded inside her, thrusting deep as the thrill took my body and my own groan filled the room. I sank onto her warm, cuddly body as my seed was spent. She wrapped her hands around my head as it lay on her right breast, a pillow any man would be happy with.

She stirred beneath me as my shrunken knob slipped out and I wearily struggled up, letting her pull herself up and sit, still open legged before me.

"You're a ten," she sighed, as I backed up onto my knees.

"Ten?"

"Yes, and you're number one on my list, my furrie is still tingling from what you did with your tongue."

"You liked that then?" I asked, feeling a little proud of my newly taught skills.

"You're the first boy who's done it so well. Most of the others think it's dirty...."

"Dirty," I laughed. "It's delicious, the silky smooth skin with its nooks and crannies, the taste and aroma of your juicy 'furrie', as you call it. The little stub of your nub, pleasing you as you suck my knob and please me. It's second to frigging you."

She burst out with a laugh. "You use funny words. Here we call it a prodder, and making love is prodding. Do you want to prod means have sex." She gave another giggle as she looked at me.

"And we call your furrie a cunny," I added, thinking everything about sex was different here except the way you did it.

She rolled and reached for a cloth from her nightstand.

"We'd better get dressed," she said as she shivered, wiping herself dry.

I twisted my legs around and sat on the edge of the bed. My clothes were at my feet and I paused as I bent for them to watch Bemnie walk over for her clothes, her ample tush jiggling as she ambled over.

I was dressed before her and walked to the door, waiting for her. We both walked back into the still empty room, Bemnie smiling warmly at me as we made our way to the chairs.

"Have you got a girlfriend?" she asked as we sat.

"Yes, Webberli."

"Did she teach you how to do it?"

It, I presumed, was the tongue licking I'd given her. "Yes," I answered, discretion being the better part of valor. I'd not said a word to anyone about my time with Rash and Miriamni and I wasn't about to give up the details here.

"Well you can--" she started to say when the door banged open.

"Bemnie!" Grepp half shouted as he entered. "Curromo is looking for you. I just left her going to her room to change. She said if I saw you to tell you to come on over."

Grepp walked across with the unsteady gait of an inebriate as Bemnie stood.

She turned to me. "I'll talk more to you later," she said as she steered her way around Grepp, who paused for a second to steady himself with the back of a chair as he picked up the now cold cofftea pot before launching himself forward to the kitchen.

For a quick second, I thought about beating a retreat to my room, but catching Xentha was more important. I watched as Grepp made a performance out of brewing more cofftea, not yet daring to pull the book from my pocket, hoping that he would retire to sleep it off like Kenval had.

He came and settled in a chair while the water heated, looking over to me as he sat.

"How are you?" he asked. "Everything alright?"

"I'm fine," I answered back. "You haven't seen Xentha on your travels, have you?"

"Stuck up little bitch," he said, with a vehemence in his voice. "You'd do better chasing after Bemnie than that skinny, stuck up snob."

I bit my first sardonic answer back. Even though I was beginning to really not like him there was no need to make an enemy of him yet, though I wondered what he had against her.

"I wanted to talk to her about meditation," I said quietly. "Some professor said she was the one to talk to about it."

"Meditation, pah, you don't need that for magic, just use your brain and know what you want," he retorted.

"Aha," I grunted. "I think your water's ready."

He glanced over to the kitchen and struggled out of the chair, walking slowly over to check the pot. I watched as he spooned the makings in.

"Do you want a cup?" he asked, waiting for it to brew.

"Yes," I said amiably as I walked over toward him.

"I could do with a cup as well."

Kenval's voice came from behind me; I tipped my cup in the sink and turned to watch him approach.

"Are you going to the Lamb's Pen tonight?" he asked as he drew near.

"Yes, Kiria is performing tonight. I just love listening to her voice," Grepp answered, pouring the three cups.

"Mm, she's got that southern lilt to her voice. I can really get into her rendition of 'Alice's Restaurant'."

They continued chattering as we walked back and plumped ourselves back down in the chairs. I listened in as they started talking of Jaspher next and his upcoming performance at the Goat Herder's Arms tomorrow night.

I sat quietly sipping at my cofftea, still torn between my desire to read more of the book and the need to see Xentha, when she put in an appearance. While I didn't know the exact time, it couldn't be long till tea was served. I could sit it out till then.

They were still talking about performers, a girl called Milova, when at last the bell tolled to announce teatime. I quickly pulled myself from my seat.

"Are you going to the dining hall?" I asked as I stood.

"No," answered Grepp. "We'll be along later, after the crush."

"Okay, I'm off, I'll see you later."

I sat alone in one of the corners eating, the book open in front of me as I tried to decipher the runic spell that bound it. It had only three sigils, the first representing something lost, the second I'd found was something hidden, but before I had a chance to look up the third, Bemnie spied me and came over to join me with two other girls.

She introduced them to me as Curromo and Calorissa as they sat and joined me.

"So, you are this mystery man that everyone is talking about," Curromo said with a bright smile on her face.

I looked at the two of them. They were both wearing normal clothes. Curromo had a pretty face with long, light brown hair and matching hazel eyes while Calorissa had dark hair and green eyes with an aquiline nose and a small, pouty mouth.

I looked across at Bemnie. "I see my fame precedes me."

"Can you come and do your spy check magic in my room?" Calorissa asked.

"And mine," echoed Curromo.

"Yes." I smiled. "Though I've got something I need to take care of first. I'll do it before bedtime if that's alright?"

"Yes," they both agreed in unison.

Curromo propped up her tray against the table and leant forward on her elbows. "So, are you going to be the new high wizard?" she asked, giving me a gleaming smile.

I looked at Bemnie again in askance.

"Not me, I told her you were living in our dorm and things, but she heard the rumor elsewhere," she responded with a quick flick of her eyes to Calorissa.

My eyes followed hers to see Calorissa also giving me a nice smile. I turned back to the waiting Curromo. "No, people have got the wrong idea, I can't do magic. I've just got this trick of seeing it and turning it off."

"What, you can see the web of magic we manipulate, the essence we draw on?" Calorissa asked in a querulous voice.

"Not exactly, I can see spells. They're like ribbons and misty balls around things. Only great wizards in the past have had the trick so they think I'm gonna be one, too."

"So, you're here for training then. Did you miss testing as a boy?" she questioned me further.

"I think I was tested too early, my younger sister with me showed talent and is a healer. After that I never concerned myself about it, I had learning and farm duties to fill my time."

"You came with Princess Rasyondi," prompted Bemnie.

"What's she like, a real princess? Is she beautiful?" Curromo broke in.

"Yes, I think so. She's slim and well proportioned, a nice face with a cute nose and a nice smile."

"Do you think we could meet her?" she asked.

"Probably, though I haven't seen her since the tribunal."

"I think it would be nice to meet a real live one. Some of the ones in history had adventures, but none ran away from a wedding."

The talk turned to more mundane matters; I stopped really listening as they nattered about the end of term dance, their last one here. I was slightly annoyed and worried about the rumors getting wilder on their retelling; I could see that my unabashed, modest show and tell could bear repeating.

I waited till they'd finished theirs and walked back with them, feeling half invisible until we got to the dorm, then the girls persuaded me with their pleas that they wanted to be sure before they went out for the night.

They were sat, Bemnie, Curromo with me standing, having a final look around. I'd just found spells. Candlesticks seemed popular for skrying spells and there was a listening spell on the pillow. I had both the book in my pocket and I wanted to check to see if Xentha had put in an appearance yet.

"Well, that seems to be it," I told them. "I need to be off."

"Oh, I was just about to make cofftea," Bemnie said, standing. "We could have it in here, Curromo won't mind."

"No, thanks, but I've got some reading to do and I need to have a word with Xentha about some lessons."

"What are you doing later then?" Bemnie enquired. "We're off to the Goat Herder's Arms. Milova is performing there tonight; you should hear her sing, really, she's good."

"I'd love to some other time," I said firmly. "Professor Swapswisle has given me this book to read for tomorrow and I need to get started."

"Oh, well, I'll bring you a cup of locatheot when I come back. I know where they sell the best in the market," Curromo promised.

I made my way across the short walk, hoping that Grepp and Kenval were gone. I hadn't heard the late bell so it was iffy. I found the place empty and made my way to Xentha's door, giving it a moderate knock.

She opened it, standing there, holding the untied end of her half platted hair. With her raven hair scooped back, her skin looked darker, reminiscent of the dusky skinned, Far Isle slaves I'd seen one time in Bravermouth that time with my father.

"Hi," I greeted her, feeling just a little trepidation and anxiety. This was to be my first real step to my enlightenment.

"Yes?" she greeted me back.

"I was talking to professor Swapswisle, he told me to come and see you for meditation training. Look, can I talk with you inside? I need to ask you a big favour."

"Do I sense intrigue?" she said, stepping back and opening the door wide for me.

I started my explanation as soon as we were inside with the door closed.

"Well, I want you to keep a secret. I don't want people to know. I want to be able to use my magic but I don't want to wave the big stick here, I'd rather go home and live a quiet life. I'm happy at home. I don't want to be the Grunt Futtock here anymore than they want me to," I said quietly.

"So, you want me to keep it secret?"

"Yes and no. You can just avoid the subject, not tell people if I'm doing well. Try and give them the impression that I'm not," I explained further. "Swapswisle has said that it's something that can't be taught but there are tools that can help."

She nodded.

"Well, I intend to 'fail'." I made the finger marks. "I will seemingly not develop the concentration needed to master the skill. They'll be too relieved to question it too closely, at least till I'm long gone"

She looked more thoughtful as she nodded again.

"If it's self-taught then anywhere can be your school then I can skip out and be only an occasional thought as people go on their merry ways for the holidays."

I stood and awaited her reply.

"If you're as serious as you seem then you can have my help in the deception but it's better I know little of it. I won't be blatantly mendacious. Misdirection and being economical with the truth I can bend to, but if there's a hint that this is a ruse..." She left the question hanging.

"Test me with your trance thing," I said earnestly.

"That'd be breaking another rule. No unofficial use without supervision, my mind's too open."

She went and sat on the edge of her bed.

"Does S-- er um, Swapswisle know? Is he in on it, too? And how did he get involved?"

"I got passed down the chain till he ended up my tutor. I don't need to learn spells. If I am a Great Wizard then my mind is an interface that can control the magic by thought, that's what he told me. He could teach me nothing because it was for me to learn by doing. There are certain preconditions, concentration and imagination enough to picture the detail of the thing you're doing and then swapping it into our reality."

"Wowser! So, you can just go off and learn it, no hours of recitation and learning by rote? Wow." She paused a quick second. "I can't teach you much in three weeks. It took me ages to perfect my technique."

"I only need the first rungs on the ladder, a stepping stone to the level up."

"Okay. If it's going to be a secret, I know just the place. Give me a minute to finish my hair and I'll take you for your first lesson."

I agreed and took a seat at the table while she finished the braiding and then coiled and pinned it in a bun at the back.

"Okay," she said, checking herself in the hand mirror. "Let's begin. Shall we see how good a teacher I am?"

We walked silently side by side. She took me to the entrance hall. At the bottom, through another room, was a curtained stair. She led me up a flight then past a door on a corridor to another stair, and then up through three identical levels till we came to a narrower walled one and to a trapdoor in the roof.

It was a boxed room, each side a waist high wall with open arches to support a peaked roof. In the center was a raised dais with an old fashioned astrolabe resting in the centre. She shut the trapdoor behind me and walked over.

"It's a magnificent view, isn't it?" She walked to one side. I followed over. There, below us, was the university and we could see the streets and buildings of the surrounding district with the grand row of formal houses leading away along a tree-lined avenue.

"You can't really see them if you don't know where they are, but the Bull is over there," she said, pointing. "And the Goat's Arm is way over there, right over there, you can't even see the roof from here, and the famous Lamb's Pen is a turn right about halfway down the avenue."

The house second down on the right had caught my attention with its scruffy look and overgrown garden, the flaking white paint leaving it looking like a ghost of its former glorious self.

12