The Balance: Finale

"I'm sorry," he said, his face red. "But when you touch me that way..."

"I understand, my love. Indeed, I doubt that anyone here understands any better. Our bodies make demands on us that our minds cannot control.

"Here," she said, rolling off of him and onto her side. "I will tease that way no longer. It is hard for one who is untrained in the ways of desire to control their urges when their goal is so close."

Sean rolled over to face her, eyes wide with awe. With her honey-colored hair and golden skin, it seemed as if one of the ancient love-godesses had descended to earth. She cupped her hand over his groin protectively, keeping him from acting on his bone-deep need to consummate their love. Acknowledging her wisdom, he leaned in for another kiss, then giving in to a desire he had harbored since the first time he saw her, he laid his palm on her breast, delighting in the wonderful softness.

She responded immediately, pressing her breast into his eager hand. "More," she muttered around his mouth, nibbling on his lips. Uncertainly, he stroked the length of her nipple with his fingers, drawing it upwards. She squeaked delightedly and her hand released his cock to cradle his cheek.

"More!" she demanded, punctuating her desire with a leg thrown over his hip, pubis nestled next to his cock in defiance of her previous pronouncements.

More? How much more can I give? Sean thought.

Everything. I have to give her everything I am. Isn't that what I agreed to when I married her? Married all of them?

For a moment he closed his eyes. With a conscious act of will, he threw out all the self-hatred, the niggling, petty doubts, the thwarted desires, the missed opportunities. With a clear, open mind he opened his eyes, and as if for the first time he saw his wife laying in the bed next to him, her eyes wide with desire and love.

Smiling, she nodded. "That's a start. I want more of you. Truth be told, I want all of you. But," she said judiciously, "if my sister-wives ask nicely, I may be persuaded to share."

With a shout of laughter, he bent to her breast. Unchained by uncertainty, he drew her nipple into his mouth, pulling hard, and was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure. His hand rose, kneading the sweet curve of her mound as he continued to nurse. Her hands knotted in his hair, eliciting beautiful pain as her pleased her.

With a soft shove of his shoulder, he rolled her onto her back. He leaned over her, his mouth on hers, his phallus rubbing unashamedly against her cleft, rejoicing in his power over her as she wantonly thrust her groin towards his. Gathering her breasts in his hands, he smothered them in kisses, delighting in the wonderful heft in his palms. Leaning back on his heels, his cock upthrust before him, he rubbed his palms over her nipples, smiling wholeheartedly as his actions made Diana writhe beneath him.

For a moment, he stilled his need, and looked Diana seriously in the eyes.

"My love, later I would have you tech me all you know..."

"All I know? That will take more nights than one. But plead your case, indomitable Captain."

"My virginity is a burden I wish to set down. Will you accompany me over the border into manhood?"

She lay a gentle hand on his cheek. "My brave, brave boy. You are a man in every way that counts." She cast her eyes down mock-demurely. "But ravish me as you will, heroic Captain. You will find me a willing victim. I have even," she said with a smile, "found a sheathe for your dagger. Will you come and see if it is the right size?"

Her thighs raised and parted, displaying herself provocatively. He knelt between them. For one last moment he looked on her, in all her pure lewdness. Filled with the spirit of the Wanton, she braced her feet against the mattress and, pushing up, raised her mound up, high, higher, brazenly displaying her womanhood for his view.

Sean knew his moment had come. With unaccustomed roughness, he grasped Diana's hips and pulled her towards him. He pushed her legs apart with his knees. He took one moment to coat the head of his phallus with her moisture, then pierced her with one long thrust of his dagger.

Her hands caught in the nape of his neck. Tears of joy starting from his eyes, he moved within her, reveling in the silky hotness of her womb. Diana's legs came around, cradling him like a child, and her heels caught in the small of his back. His weight on his forearms, Sean thrust into her, kissing her hotly, his hands on her arms, her face, her breasts, oh Deity, everywhere! she moaned in delight. She drove towards her climax, as sure of it as she was of the sun rising on the morn. The warmth of desire coiled within her, pushed higher by Sean's urgent need.

Muscles rippling inside her, her orgasm broke within her at last. With a scream of passion fulfilled, Diana shuddered as she finally reached her longed-for release. Eyes open, still shuddering from the after-effects of pleasure, she watched Sean delightedly. How many times, she thought, had she seen the same thing from those she guided across the border, boys and young men and even her first husband Paul? The delight she took in this moment never palled or faded.

Lips curving happily, she watched for the familiar signs to pass over Sean's face. The closing-off of the face as all thought drew inward toward impending rapture.

But Sean, it seemed, was different. Rather than closing off, he opened up. His gaze was fixed on hers, eyes wide open, mouth curving happily upward, face ecstatic as he took in the proof of her orgasm as proof of his worth as a man.

And why not? She thought. The poor boy has dealt with feelings of inferiority all his life. Proof that he can make a woman climax must be a potent aphrodisiac. His cock drove into her over and over, each time a bit harder, a bit swifter. Could he feel the signs coming upon him as she did? The twitches in the base, the small growths in the shaft? The change in girth as his seed came boiling up the length of him, urgent for escape?

He could. He did. With a muffled shout he buried himself in her to the hilt, and with shaking arms, crushed her to himself as he spent within her. Weeping openly, he rained kisses and tears on her face in equal measure, racking sobs giving way to breathless laughter as he at last gave himself over, completely and irrevocably, to the Deity, to herself, and to all of them.

"Thank you, my lady. I love you."

Two voices answered in reply. One beneath him; one sourceless, echoing oddly within the bedchamber.

"You're welcome. We love you too, Sean."

@@@

As soon as he closed the door shut on the chamber he shared with Ariana, Abiron found himself whirled around and pinned against the wall by his wrists, held over his head, face to face with a furious wife.

" 'Adequate?'" she snarled. "'What there was of it?'" Give me one good reason I shouldn't rip off your pathetic little tonker and leave it on the floor for the dogs!"

"Well, for one thing," said Abiron, completely unintimidated, "we don't have any dogs. So you or Ariana or Paul or Diana or Sean will have to clean up the mess. Not me," he continued with a grin. "Since I will doubtless be confined to bed after such a terrible wound. Not even taking into account the point that such an action will make you far less attractive as a sister-wife or bedmate to your remaining wives and husbands."

"By the Deity! How I hate you!" she shouted. "And the biggest reason I hate you," she continued, kissing him ferociously without, Abiron noted, with some dismay, releasing him, "is the fact that I can't stop wanting you for more than a few minutes at a time and I can't stop loving you at all."

Her sharp teeth nipped painfully at his lips, then snaked around to his ear, biting almost hard enough to draw blood. Uncertain, unbalanced by this hitherto unknown facet of Angela's personality, Abiron tried to draw back, but was met with a growl of frustration. One hand gripped the hair at the back of his head, denying him escape.

Abiron's mind raced. Somewhere between the parlor and the bedchamber, Angela's avatar had arisen to overwhelm her. It must be the Huntress. What had he been told about her? That she was strong, fierce, and bloody-minded when the mood took her. That retreat was ill-advised, and that the best route was to meet strength with strength. Only there could any sort of balance be reached.

Giving up his intention to celebrate Angela's return with a long, slow bout of gentle love-making, ignoring the hand still entangled in his hair, he reached down with both hands. Hands gripping her firmly, he lifted Angela by her buttocks and spun her so that she was forced against the wall by his weight. Pinning her there with his chest and legs, he slid his hands lower, hiking up the hem of her dress to her waist, exposing her lack of undergarments to the cool air of his chambers.

"I love you too," Blessing the temple for the daily chores which kept him fit, he held her against the wall with one hand hooked under her thigh. With the other, he undid the already-half-loosened ties of her bodice, eyes widening as the full extent of the Deity's blessing became evident. He nuzzled her breasts with his face, mouth closed, simply delighting in the feel of her soft woman-flesh against the skin of his lips and cheeks.

When he looked at her again, he was relieved to see that the fierce anger had faded somewhat, and the woman who had extended her hand to his in benediction and love only a few minutes ago was before him once more. Her eyes were bright and she was shaking her head.

"Damn it," she snarled. He did not release her, but kept up his dual attack. Unyielding below, warm and comforting above. Slowly he felt the tense muscles of her body relax. Only then did he dare ease her to the floor, stepping back quickly in case the Huntress came back upon her.

"How do you deal with it?" she demanded. "How do you bear it? Her spirit comes up inside of me and overwhelms me. Is it like this for you? What is your avatar?"

Abiron led Angela to the bed. He sat her down on it, then came around behind her. Wrapping his arms around her, he embraced her firmly, giving her comfort with his body as she shuddered in reaction. Backing off slightly, he peeled her dress down and began a soft massage of her upper body, hands firm and gentle on her shoulders and back.

"It is not so for me," he commented. "But my avatar is less...invasive...than yours. Mine is the Graybeard. His forte is wisdom. And He does not often manifest in ways that others can see. Sometimes I find myself with insights into other people's motivations or actions. That is often His voice speaking with my mouth.

"I know it is hard for you, my love. But do not worry so. The Huntress is not cruel. She does not injure for personal enjoyment. Her desire is to feed Her family and to protect Her kin.

"Remember, I come from a line old in service to the Deity. We have had generations to become accustomed to each other. You and the lady Huntress are only now becoming acquainted. It is not surprising that She has not yet had an opportunity to moderate her actions. Give Her time."

Angela shivered.

"It's not just that, Abiron," she said in a small voice. "When we were...attacked...earlier, and I defended myself. She rose up so quickly within me I did not even have time to protest. It was as if a door had opened in my mind, and this other personality stepped through. It was me, but it was a me that was fierce and angry and pitiless. I did not come back to myself until that poor man was lying unconscious in the mud of the road. Sean thinks it is a mark of my bravery, when he isn't acting the fool, but it horrified me, Abiron. Knowing I could deal out such violence with no mercy..." she trailed off.

Abiron rested his chin on her shoulder, hands laced at her waist, giving her what comfort he could. "That poor man, as you say, would doubtless have left you and Sean penniless by the side of the road. He might have raped and killed you for good measure. Forgive me if I think an unconscious bandit a fair trade for a living wife.

"She sought to protect you, Angela. Nothing else. You might have a problem with the result, but the motives were pure. As for what just happened here? I think She was giving me a warning, that you are not quite the same person you were when we last met."

Angela raised her head, and Abiron was relieved to see her lips curving in a small smile. "And was that the wisdom of the Graybeard, or of Abiron?"

"Who can tell?" asked Abiron calmly. "The Graybeard doesn't pop into my head and announce his presence. All the avatars work differently.

"Now for Diana and my lady mother, for instance, the Wanton makes no secret when she manifests. Sometimes the effects are slight, but at others, they can be downright disturbing. Paul told me of his encounter with Her at the temple, and it would raise your hair. He and Diana have made their peace with it, but I am not sure how I will react if She makes her presence known some day in the future when Diana and I are making love."

"And the rest?" Angela asked. Now more at ease, she purred as Abiron's hands continued their exploration. She lazily kicked off her sandals. Lifting herself slightly from the bed, she eased her dress down over her hips and let it pool at her feet. She smiled softly to herself as Abiron's breath caught in his throat.

"Somewhere between the Wanton and the Graybeard," Abiron said, his voice husky with longing. His hands wandered down her sides to her thighs. Under his firm touch, she spread her legs for him and his gentle fingers entered her, probing her most secret places. "As you have surely been told, my love, our avatars only...emphasize...aspects of our personality that are already there. They cannot manifest where no such trait exists."

Even through the layers of his clothing, Angela could feel him stiffen against her back, a warm pool of heat along her spine. "And as we spoke about during our meal, just because we have one avatar does not mean that all others are shut away. Sean may take on the Youth now, but there is more than a hint of the Warrior within him, which is all to the good. Diana has a strong streak of the Lass within her, and I see both the Maid and the Wanton peeking out of your eyes from time to time, my lady."

His hands left her cleft and rose up to cradle her newly enlarged breasts, fingers shiny with her wetness, anointing them with her essence. His mouth descended on the crook of her neck where it merged with her shoulder, tongue laving the sensitive skin.

Without warning, his arms came hard around her chest and she could feel wetness on her back where his tears dripped onto her.

"Angela, promise me. You won't...you'll never..."

Confused, she turned and faced him. Capturing his face in her hands, she held him gently as he wept.

"What is the matter, my love?"

Abiron blinked. "What is the matter? Do you know how worried I was for you? Three weeks and no word? Don't you realize how much I love you? Every day without you was a knife in my gut.

"Don't you ever dare leave us again. I can't bear it."

Smiling, Angela kissed him. As their tongues danced, her nimble fingers worked quickly on the fastenings of his clothes. In moments his tunic had joined her gown on the floor. In a few moments more, he was naked before her, his phallus high and rampant in her eyes. Teasingly, she ran skittering fingers down its length. Her face was a solemn promise.

"My love, I will never leave you again."

Kneeling, they faced each other. Angela cupped her breasts, fingers stroking her nipples, watching them harden and lengthen, offering them to Abiron like a sacrament. His head bent and he kissed them in benediction.

Suddenly, Angela felt a warmth in her mind. This was not the hot, savage anger which had overtaken her on the road, or even the short-lived fury that had terrified her earlier this night. Rather, this was a gentle melding, as if the needs of her body had become self-aware.

Do not be frightened, my Daughter. We wish to apologize for the fright we have given you this evening, and to show you that the blessings of the Deity are not to be feared.

She smiled, and hands that were wise with knowledge traced the cleft of Abiron's buttocks, grazing the small hairs in the small of his back, laughing low in her throat as he shivered with longing. He suckled harder on her nipples, and the slow, hot ache at her core began to expand. She grasped his cock in her hand, small fingers encircling his girth. With an expert's touch, she gathered the wetness at the tip, coating his cock with his fluids, slicking the entire length with his delicious taste.

Oh, very nice, the voice inside her head continued. We have done our work well with this one. I will enjoy this immensely.

I can't say that I actually invited you, Angela replied tartly. Ignorant of the bizarre conversation Angela was having within her mind, Abiron groaned as Angela's hand cupped his testes, skillfully fondling him. Why are you really here? To make amends, or to share my husband?

Can't it be both? The voice replied wickedly. The Lover is..well..a mighty lover. And the Father is competent at all his tasks. But even an immortal's love can become stale after so long a time. If I share your body so I can experience a little variety, is that so ill?

You...you...words failed Angela. She turned so her back was to Abiron, delighting in the feel of his strong hands on the muscles of her back, her thighs. By the Deity! With the Wanton within her, every pleasure seemed increased a thousandfold. She sighed contentedly as his hands cupped her ass, arching into his touch. Her breasts were hot, nipples aching, on fire with need. Unbidden, her hands toyed with them, unwilling to wait for Abiron. Suddenly, the fact that her husband had only two hands and one mouth seemed wholly inadequate. Someday soon, she thought, I am going to have to have two of my husbands in my bed. She gasped at the thought and her cunt flooded with moisture. Was that her thought, or the Wanton's?

You can say it, my daughter. The Wanton's voice, deep with unending, eternal need, was amused. Wanton. Trollop. Jezebel. Minx. It is who I am. I make no apologies for my character.

We seldom interfere so directly, she continued. Guided by both of their desires, Angela knelt on the bed, face pillowed on the mattress, the sweet, delightful curve of her buttocks thrust provocatively upward. The cool air of the room did nothing to quench the fire of her flesh. But every time lovers or spouses come together, the tiniest fragment of Ourselves is there to guide them. But for you, my daughter, We decided we needed to show you that the blessings we bestowed were in your best interests to accept. If you wish, we will diminish your breasts, although it surpasses Our understanding why you would wish that to be. And the Huntress has agreed to...moderate...her presence when she incarnates within you.

Moaning in insatiable need, Angela spread her thighs, exposing herself to her husband's gaze. She growled in frustration. Suddenly his hands were too gentle, his kisses not strong enough.

"Abiron," she gasped, grinding her breasts into the bed, thighs trembling, core aching, "Please. I need you. Take me. Fill me."

Sensing her mood, he did not say a word. She closed her eyes and waited as he positioned himself above her, her hand dancing in her folds, preparing his way. For one last moment he paused, rubbing his head against her opening, but before she could draw breath, he merged with her, his beautiful beloved cock entering her in a single swift stroke.