Sarlene's Touch Ch. 25

Instead, she moved to the second part of her plan, and, with her back turned to the young girl, cast a spell. It would activate the scrying device in Rolgor's room, allowing whatever sounds were being made in there to drift down to the cellar. The girl's reaction to that should be interesting.

"Here you are," she said, returning and holding out the glass. "You didn't tell me your name."

"Tinberly," said the girl, taking the glass, and sipping the cool water.

A grunting groan came from behind the curtain where she had cast the spell. Tinberly looked up, surprised. "What's that?" she asked, suddenly frightened.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it, it's nothing."

Rolgor's voice sounded, its deep tone unmistakable: "Ohhh, yes..."

"That... that sounds like..." Tinberly's eyes were wide, her hands gripping the glass as she stared towards the tapestry.

"Ignore it. It's not important. Why don't we talk about something else?"

Rolgor groaned again, a deep throated sound. "Oh, oh, oh... uhh... you good..."

Tinberly gasped, as the truth of what she was hearing dawned on her. "Oh, my goodness!" she said with a hint of horror in her eyes, her cheeks flushing bright red. "That's him! It's your... and my mother!" The last words came out almost in a squeak, as Tinberly placed the glass hurriedly onto the carpeted floor, and covered her ears with her hands, a look of mortified shock on her face. "Make it stop! I don't want to listen!"

Nyvara waved her hands, casting two spells in rapid succession, although the girl would never be able to tell there was more than one. Silvery and red lights sparkled around her fingertips, and then faded.

"It's gone," she said, leaning forward towards the girl, "you don't have to listen any more."

Tinberly nervously lowered her hands, and looked relieved to discover that the sound had, indeed, faded. As Nyvara knew, of course, since her first spell had been to cancel the scrying. In all honesty, she had no more wish to hear what Rolgor got up to than anyone else would, and the sound had already given her the cover to cast the more important spell.

The teenager still looked shocked, as well she might. "My mother and that... man... are... and she's doing it for me!" She looked almost on the verge of tears, "you've got to tell her she doesn't have to."

"It's a bit late for that, I think. Besides, she won't want to know that you know, will she? It is difficult enough for her already, I imagine. I am sorry about the noise, but the spell I have just cast will prevent any sound from reaching this room. You'll just have to think about something else until they return."

Tinberly nodded glumly. She was a pretty girl, Nyvara reflected, remembering that her mother had said she had only turned eighteen a few months ago. She looked it, with fresh young skin, a sculpted face and slender body, and long dark hair that fell to her mid back. Oh, yes, this would be interesting.

"It's rather hot down here," said the girl after a while. A faint sheen of perspiration showed on her skin, and she ran a dainty hand over her neck, adjusting her long hair.

"Yes, I'm sorry about that," said Nyvara, who had been waiting for just that remark, "it's the effect of the silence spell. It affects the flow of air, you see, so the room warms up. It really will get quite hot in here after a while, I'm afraid." It was a lie, of course, because there was no silence spell. Just a heating spell.

"Oh," said the girl, apparently believing her, and picked up the glass to drink the rest of the water. The sorceress watched the movement of the girl's throat as she drank, the long neck extended, sweat beading the upper margin of her high cut dress.

"If you feel too hot, you can take some clothes off," she suggested, slowly walking over to stand behind the young woman as she sat on the stool, "I won't mind, and the bell will ring before Rolgor comes back, so he won't see you."

"Oh, no... I wouldn't want... I mean, that wouldn't be..." Tinberly stammered, and Nyvara could imagine her face flushing again, although she could not see it from this vantage point.

Daringly, she moved her hand downwards, to rest on the teenager's shoulder. The girl didn't flinch at the touch, but when the sorceress began to peel back the dress to expose one shapely shoulder, she suddenly reached a hand up to grab the material, preventing her from moving it further. Nyvara withdrew her hand, but blew gently on the girl's skin, a cooling breath on the damp flesh, before walking away.

Tinberly still sat on the stool, looking awkward, and the older woman wondered if she might need the potion after all. But the girl had not yet pulled her dress back into place, her shoulder still bare. Perhaps that was a good sign.

"Well, I'm feeling hot," said Nyvara, turning away to face the wall, revealing the back of her dress, cut to reach down to just above her buttocks. "So I hope you don't mind if I wear a little less."

──◊──

Elandra did not have a great range of experience with penises. In her whole life, the only person she had ever made love to was her husband, and she had assumed, for lack of any good evidence to the contrary, that his five inch member was fairly average. But, if that was so, then Rolgor was truly gifted, whether or not that also held true for half-orcs in general.

Right at the moment, Rolgor's swollen, grey-green, nine inch cock was sliding in and out of Elandra's mouth. She had never done this for her husband, whose sexual activity, while undeniably satisfying, had never been particularly adventurous. But when the half-orc had thrust his erection towards her face, pulling back the foreskin to reveal a large, purplish head, a sudden impulse had made her press it to her lips. From there, it had not been long before he pushed his way in.

"Ohhh, yes..." groaned the half-orc, his deep voice thick with passion.

This was not what she had expected at all. He wasn't forcing her to do anything, but, for some reason, here she was, sliding her tongue over the firmness of his cock, licking the underside of his glans and shaft, moving her lips back and forward over his length. Her vision was filled with a view of the half-orc's groin, his pubic hair sparse and bristly, his grey-green balls swaying as his hips rocked back and forth into her mouth.

She realised that this might not be as bad as she had feared just minutes before. He was not taking her savagely, as she had thought he might -- although he was, so far, certainly receiving more pleasure than he was giving. If anything, though, with his cock in her mouth, he seemed vulnerable, and she realised with a thrill that he was, for the time being, in her power. She was in charge, able to pleasure him or not, as the whim took her.

She gripped his muscular buttocks with one hand, pushing him further into her mouth as she reached for his balls with the other, rubbing the bristly hair of his scrotum. She fought hard to suppress her gag reflex as he plunged deep into her, his hips moving with greater urgency.

"Oh, oh, oh... uhh... you good..."

She pulled back, and he did nothing to stop her. She had come close to choking just then, she thought, as she licked a stray stream of saliva from his glistening cock, but it had been worth the feeling of control.

She leaned back on the bed, and looked up at him, towering over her. His yellowish eyes gazed on her with evident desire, and something close to awe. Her eagerness had obviously surprised him as much as it had herself. He reached down, brushing hair away from her face, and cupping her cheek, his rough fingers and large hands gentle against her skin.

"Pretty lady," he said, grinning to show white teeth and tusks against greenish skin. Elandra took another opportunity to take the lead, and hitched her shift up, pulling it over her head and depositing it by the bed. Rolgor let out a grunting sigh as his eyes wandered over her now almost naked body. "Pretty lady," he said again, before adding "I like."

Whatever else he might have been, she reflected, he wasn't a good conversationalist -- but perhaps this wasn't the time. He moved his hand down to cup one of her breasts, running the thumb over her large brown nipple. His grin was infectious, and she found herself smiling too, and pushing her body closer towards him as he continued to massage her breast.

"Do you like them?" she asked, almost unable to believe the words had come out of her mouth to anyone, least of all a half-orc.

He nodded wordlessly, pressing himself against her, she kneeling, and he standing, so that his cock squeezed against the underside of her breasts. Moving herself into a lower position, she placed one breast so that the nipple rubbed against his tip, drawing a sort of strangled grunt from the big man.

He pulled back then, into the shadows cast by the lamp light, although she could see his eyes wider than ever, his tongue licking his lips as he panted with anticipation. Looking down at his throbbing member, she could only agree. The concern and slight revulsion she had felt earlier had entirely been consumed by passion. If anything, perhaps that earlier frisson of fear had aroused her, but she no longer cared what the reason behind her mounting excitement was. She wanted to feel what that giant cock was like inside her.

Rolgor moved round to the base of the bed, and Elandra rolled over onto her back, legs parted. The half-orc reached across to pull her panties down, sliding them over thighs that she had to admit were a little flabby these days. Not that he seemed to mind.

He ran a hand over her naked mound, and down towards her sex. With a feather-light touch, he slid his index finger over her pussy, then lifted it to his nostrils, taking an eager sniff. She remembered briefly what she was here for, although the encounter was already so much more than that.

"That good," he said nodding, "we get plenty to keep sorceress happy." His expression turned quizzical, eyeing her curiously, and when he next spoke his voice was wavering and uncertain. "You like?" he asked, "you like me?"

Her heart hammered in her chest. He was anything but a handsome man, his face brutish, and his orcish heritage immediately apparent. But he had shown her more consideration than she had expected, and the way he asked the question seemed almost endearing, a touching lack of confidence in one so large and powerful.

"Yes, Rolgor," she said, "I like you."

The half-orc grinned wider than ever, pressing his hand back to her sex, forcing the index finger between her swollen pussy lips, easing into the dampness. She gasped, her hips involuntarily pushing back against his hand. She squeezed one of her own breasts, gripping it in her hand, and Rolgor's eyes followed every movement.

"You want this?" he asked, climbing onto the bed, and kneeling between her legs, his large cock pressing against her inner thigh, the head inches from the seat of her pleasure. He seemed eager now, less uncertain, obviously satisfied by both her answer and her actions so far. "Tell me what you want, pretty lady."

Elandra took a deep breath. "Rolgor," she said, her voice firm and decisive, "I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me long and hard with that big cock of yours until I come."

He suddenly gripped her buttocks, lifting her up so that they rested on his massive thighs, her own legs forced out to either side of his hairy chest. She looked up, now resting on her arms and shoulders, towards the heavy features of his face, watching him pant with anticipation, just as he pressed his purplish glans against her pussy. His eyes were fixed on hers as he thrust himself half-way inside, then, gripping her more firmly, pushed himself the rest of the way in.

Rolgor's grunt of undisguised pleasure was drowned by Elandra's own gasping cry. He felt even bigger inside her cunt than he had in her mouth, his girth spreading her damp lips apart, his great length filling her far more than she had ever been filled before.

Then he began to move, his hips grinding into her, that massive shaft slowly pressing in and out, squeezing against her clit. He was moaning and grunting as he did so, his deep voice contrasting against the higher pitch of her own cries. She had never been this vocal with her husband, but then, she had never been fucked with a nine inch cock before.

Between her gasps, she looked up at her partner, admiring the way the muscles moved beneath his flesh, at the way her pale thighs gripped either side of his grey-green chest, the way his large hands gripped her hips. She watched as his magnificent cock pressed its way in and out of her cunt, spreading her wide and filling her with sensations she had never felt before, not in this way. But still, he seemed to be holding back.

"Rolgor," she cried out, between gasps of pleasure, "fuck me harder!"

"I not want to hurt you, pretty lady," he replied, his hips continuing their slow rhythmic pounding.

"I said, fuck me harder!"

There was a hard edge to the demand, and one that clearly registered on the half-orc's face. He leaned over her to press one hand against the wall above her head, and she realised again how tall he was. His hips began pumping faster, his thrusts even deeper and more vigorous than before, and Elandra surrendered to the sensation, reduced to crying out in wordless passion.

Her breasts wobbled from the force of his renewed thrusts, and he reached out his free hand to squeeze one, massaging the nipple. Rolgor himself was letting out a sustained groan, a deep growling rumble, wavering as he continued to pound into her with increasing energy, his mouth half open, saliva running across his lips and blunt tusks.

With a final desperate grunt, he came inside her, as the waves of her orgasm broke. She gripped onto his chest, pulling him down on top of her, crying out as his cock pumped her aching cunt full of hot semen.

They lay there like that for a little while, wrapped in each others arms, legs entwined. But then the half-orc clambered off her, albeit with evident reluctance. He padded over to the table where had placed the things from the cupboard, and soon she felt a damp swabbing at her pussy, which was still a little sore from his attentions. Ah, yes, she'd actually forgotten about that.

"Are you sure you've got enough?" as he returned to the table, doing something with some bottles while his back was turned to her.

"Yes. I have plenty. Thank you much, pretty lady."

"You're absolutely certain?" she continued, levering herself up on her elbows, and wiping a sweat-drenched strand of hair from her eyes.

"Yes, I am certain."

He certainly wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, she reflected. Instead of asking again, she reached over to him, pushing her hand between his legs.

"That's a pity," she said, stroking his balls, "unless there's any other reason you might want to come back to bed?"

──◊──

Nyvara leaned back against the desk, dressed only in tight black leather boots reaching to mid calf, and a pair of cotton panties. She had worn no shift under her dress, of course, since it had been too low cut for that even to be a possibility. She arched her back slightly, thrusting her prominent, pale, breasts outward, and flicked a stray of black hair away from her sweat-damp forehead. Tinberly was blushing deeply, looking away towards the far wall, her hands gripped tightly in her lap.

"That feels better," said the sorceress, "cooler. Are you sure you won't join me? We're all girls together, and there's no way Rolgor will see. Or your mother, for that matter."

"No... I'm... I'm fine, thank you," replied the girl, but even as she did so a big bead of sweat rolled down the side of her face, dipping towards her eye, making her blink and move a hand to wipe away the salty sting.

"You don't look it," commented Nyvara, "and, besides, you're making me feel a little embarrassed. You wouldn't want to make your hostess feel embarrassed, would you? Especially since you're suffering."

Slowly, Tinberly stood, still studiously looking away from the sorceress, and began to fumble with her girdle, taking it off and laying it over the side of the stool. Her black dress was tight, with narrow sleeves, and it took a little while to remove, and to place beside her on the floor. She sat down again, her hands once again clenched before her, looking down at the floor, and Nyvara noticed that she was actually shaking slightly.

That didn't stop the sorceress admiring the partially clothed young teenager. Her shift was short-sleeved, showing off slender young arms with creamy soft skin, and the thin fabric clung to the slight curves of her body. The hem reached her mid-thigh, and the girl's legs were shapely indeed, the skin flawless, and almost as pale as her own. At the moment, they were pressed tightly together, her booted feet fidgeting.

"There... that's better, isn't it?" Nyvara said reassuringly. There was probably some truth in that, too, although she could still see beads of sweat on the girl's bare skin, and damp patches on the fabric under her armpits.

The girl nodded, silently, glancing up at the sorceress, then looking away suddenly, as if ashamed of what she saw. Nyvara smiled, and stepped away from the desk, slowly lying down on the thick carpet, her legs towards Tinberly.

"Yes, much better", she said, running a finger up her flank until it reached her shoulder.

She slowly licked the bead of collected sweat off the tip, watching Tinberly's reaction. The girl was watching her now, no longer looking away, her eyes wide, as if trying to decide what the sorceress was doing, uncertain as to what was happening. Nyvara didn't say anything, suspecting that words might break the girl's temporary trance, and instead slid her hand down her body, palm flat, brushing over her prominent breasts and flat belly. She sighed, dipping the fingers under the hem of her panties, easing the material down half an inch to expose some of her hip.

"Mmm..." she murmured, closing her eyes and arching her back slightly.

Slowly, she pulled her panties down, flicking them away with one booted foot. She kept her legs parted, now running her hand over the dark triangle of hair on her groin, contrasting so deeply with the pallor of her skin. She opened her eyes again, risking a direct look towards Tinberly. The girl's eyes were wider than ever, but she was watching, gazing towards the naked sorceress as if frozen in a basilisk's glare.

"Why don't you join me?" asked Nyvara, her voice sultry, "there's plenty of room on the carpet."

Tinberly shook her head, evidently not risking speech, although her eyes did not leave the woman in front of her. She would have to be more direct.

Nyvara rose to her feet, and stepped towards the girl, still not making any sudden moves. Tinberly didn't flinch or look away, and soon the sorceress was just inches away from her, standing so that her breasts hovered in front of the youngster's face.

"We don't need men," she said, "not to keep ourselves amused. I am sure you've already found that, in bed alone at night. Haven't you? This is no different."

She bent down, kissing Tinberly's forehead so lightly that she could scarcely feel it. The girl's breaths were coming deeper, she could tell, but she still wouldn't give in to her reaction.

"Don't disappoint me," she whispered, her hand brushing the thin and slightly damp fabric covering the slight mound of Tinberly's breasts.

The girl gasped, and Nyvara stepped away, lying down on the carpet once more, and patting the space beside her. Tinberly stood, her expression a mixture of confusion and desire, and joined the sorceress. She lay there, motionless, apparently afraid to move a muscle, her delightful little chest rising and falling, her lips slightly parted.