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Released at last, he rubbed his wrists to restore their circulation, and tried to ignore the pain from the one hand she had beaten repeatedly against the stone wall. He gripped onto her sweaty flanks, feeling hard muscle beneath them, but she twisted out of the way, lying back on her haunches.
"Lower down," she said, "that's not what I want your fingers for."
He gripped one powerful thigh, and slipped his good hand up to her pussy. It was his left, of course, which was a little awkward, but, with the right one injured, he would have to make do. He bent forward to kiss her chest just below her breasts as he slid a finger inside. His kisses wandered down over her taut and muscular belly, stopping to lick a navel that he noticed for the first time had a golden ring in it. A second finger joined the first, and he began to move his hand in and out.
"Harder and faster, Almandar," she warned him, "if you want to make me come, you'll have to do more than that."
As his kisses moved down over her crotch, he began to pump his fingers in more vigorously, driving them between her folds with increasing energy. Gut'rul was panting heavily now, her face flushed, blue eyes wide, the traces of his saliva on her heaving breasts glistening in the lamp light.
His mouth reached her cunt, even as his fingers continued to dive in and out. He sucked on her large clit, and she threw back her head, letting out a loud groan of delighted pleasure.
"Yes, give it to me like that! Suck me good. Uttrag'na se!" She let out repeated gasps as he continued his ministrations, hands clenching the tablecloth as her body began to writhe around his expert fingers, hips bucking vigorously now, legs moving against the table top.
"Kusatch!" she shouted, with a hint of desperation, grabbing him by the shoulders again, and pulling him away from her. He thought at first he had done something to anger her, but the look of sheer lust in her eyes soon settled that fear.
Heaving herself up onto her knees again, she pushed the half-elf down, and grabbed at his trews, pulling them down as she whipped his erect cock free. Gut'rul bared her teeth in a wild grin, eyes glaring with passion.
"Big for a city boy," she said, "you could almost be one of the tribe. Want to stick that where no city-born cock has ever been before?"
She didn't wait for any response, simply grabbing him, and positioning him where she could plunge down on top of him. She pressed her lower body against him, almost squeezing his balls against the table as she sought to pull him in as far as she could.
"Uttrag'na!" she said again, with a wild look, and began to ride him. "Fuck me, city boy, yes?" she said, almost snarling, "you like it? Tell me you like it?"
She was humping him energetically, breasts heaving, his balls slamming again and again against her ass. He was practically unable to do anything in response, except surrender to the sensations rushing through his body as she continued her wild ride. Her hair was in disarray, long brown locks trailed across her face, shoulders and upper chest, large pink nipples heavily engorged on her bouncing bosom.
He grabbed onto her breasts, fondling her nipples, squeezing the large mounds beneath his hands. "Yes, I like it..." he managed, between his own gasps.
The barbarian closed her eyes, throwing her head back, and muttering something over and over in her strange tongue. Her voice held a hint of desperation, and a hint of approaching climax as her thrusts became ever quicker.
Suddenly, her blue eyes snapped open and she looked straight into his face as she let out a wordless cry, and her body spasmed against his as his seed flooded into her cunt. She continued moving against him even as began to soften, although she was slower and quieter now.
At last, she flicked back some of the locks from her face, and rolled off him, lying on her back beside him, legs dangling off the table as she regained her breath. He was almost too exhausted himself to cast the spell that would free her from Sashjant's enchantment.
But only 'almost'.
- COMMENTS
Brasstacksabout 12 years agoEpisode 42... That means this will go on for a while yet. That's a happy thought. Keep 'em coming, and I'll keep reading.
Looking forward to more, and as always, they are worth the wait. Thanks for all your time and effort. It is highly appreciated.
Fuinimelabout 12 years agoAuthorGlad you like it! And, yes, I think that's a good analysis. I know it's a long way off, because of the way I plan out and then edit these things, but episode 42 will elaborate on some of the themes you mention, helping to explain how Almandar got the way he is. (For that matter, episode 41 will do the same for Zarenis). And just after that... all hell break loose.
Brasstacksabout 12 years agoI love this character. Almandar is such a perv, but is so with purpose; his is not a needless or pointless lust. He is respectful, sincere and genuine-- qualities hard to find in most oversexed male characters. Simple, honest love drives his actions, though that may not be obvious upon superficial observation. Overarching his every escapade is a sort of obsessive need to comfort and heal through touch and intimacy, which, through some inadvertent alchemy, renders a healing balm for his own loneliness and isolation.
Also overarching is Tarissa's sculpted brow, baffled at his promiscuity, at odds with the obvious- if slightly embarrassing- tender goodwill with which his 'dark' desires are proffered. His companions see him as something of a lech, it seems, but none judge him over-harshly.
Almandar is arguably one of the best Sarlene has to offer, and she must smile upon him and nudge her fellows in the shrouded heavens, saying, "Check this guy out; my priests and priestesses should be so good."
Just my thoughts on a well-written character who never fails to be himself, or pretend to be anything he is not. I hope I am seeing him clearly, and that Fuinimel is pleased with Almandar-- I know I am. If the author intended these things to be evident, then good show! If not, smile at your happy coincidence.
