The Missing Dragon Ch. 04

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
Lien_Geller
Lien_Geller
7,071 Followers

Not that it would stop her from peeking on them, given that she had a good excuse. Reaching the canopy, she flipped open the cover and ducked inside to see the passion driven couple in all their naked glory, busily trying to outrace each other to a climax.

The pair didn't notice Lydia's entrance. Talina's eyes were closed tightly with her lips parted to release lustful pants of air from her lungs. Her head lolled back as she continued to ride her lover toward what must have been a closely incoming crescendo. For his part, the young blacksmith found it quite easy to compare the feel of her clenching sheath sliding up and down his hot steel to his idea of pure heaven. Even after weeks of Talina's erotic attentions, Torren couldn't quite believe she was all his. It was hard to remember there even was a world beyond her in those stolen moments, let alone notice any prying eyes enjoying the show.

Lydia watched the way Talina expertly shifted her hips in quick, sharp movements and found herself somewhat impressed with the way Torren's big hands grasped her waist to help those movements along. She'd known him for a long time, although they hadn't talked much except when she needed his smithing services. He'd always tended to slouch, and he was a dedicated daydreamer. His quiet ways and bulky frame hadn't exactly made him the talk of the ladies of the camp, but Lydia could certainly see why he'd kept Talina's interest. For one thing, he might have been somewhat large framed, but she was shocked to see just how much of that extra weight was hard muscle. He might have enjoyed food a little more than he should have, but he also spent every day working hammer and forge. It showed. What's more, given that she could now clearly see exactly what was giving Talina cause to moan as it slid inside her over and over again, Lydia had to admit she should have given him more attention in times past. The voyeur thought about interrupting the very happy couple for a few moments before deciding she'd take the high road and wait patiently for them to finish.

"Yes! Yes! YES!" Talina's lips curled into a smile that quivered around her cries of pleasure. She pushed herself down hard with each passing moment to thrust every inch of her lover deep inside her. Each gliding movement stoked the fire inside her until she could finally burn no brighter.

The slender beauty pressing her hands to his broad chest and letting her pussy convulse around him drove Torren over the edge. A fiery detonation that he'd been building bubbled up his length to gush into her welcoming body. Heat. Lust. Bliss. The trinity of sensation filled them both as their climax brought them together harshly and then fell away into a soft, relaxing lull.

Talina lowered herself down upon Torren and let out a little laugh of delight before she settled her lips to his and they kissed slowly and sensually.

"My, he has come a long way." Lydia put her hands together in a slow albeit genuine round of applause that the performance.

Talina didn't seem to hear or care about the compliment, but the heavy-framed blacksmith's eyes shot wide open upon hearing another voice in the tent. He broke the kiss in an effort to run off and hide some place where he could comfortably die of embarrassment. The woman currently impaled on his cock was having absolutely none of it. She rudely shoved him down by his shoulders before rising up on him to straddle his lap and absently brush away the long wave of midnight hair that had fallen over her shoulders. Any struggle between the pair should have been overwhelmingly in favour of the powerful blacksmith, yet it was Talina who unmistakably emerged on top. A catlike grin settled on her lips as her fingertips raked down his chest and she gave her bare rear a little wiggle.

She felt Torren's length twitch inside of her with that movement and then she finally looked over to Lydia, mildly annoyed.

"Lydia, when I asked you and Fiona to keep out of the tent this morning so that Torren and I could be alone, did you think it was so we could compare notes on making horse shoes?" Despite the levity of her words, there was a distinctly lethal edge to Talina's tone.

"No, but I'm afraid Emmet insisted on the interruption. Bolut is about to take the trade caravan out into the human kingdoms and it seems that they can't do without you." Lydia shrugged, not quite knowing herself why Emmet required a trained courtesan for the job of counting and carrying goods. It wasn't exactly Talina's speciality. "Perhaps he's preparing you to take over from him. We all know how clever you are, and the poor man is getting on in years."

Talina rolled her eyes. "He's just wanting to check up on something. Tell him I'll be out in a little while."

Torren had turned a very alarming shade of scarlet by that point after having a pair of beautiful women conduct a casual conversation over his nude body. He shuffled his shoulders to try and lift himself up onto his elbows. The sudden slap to his cheek was swift and lightning quick. It wasn't the first time Talina had slapped him like that. It didn't particularly hurt him, except to leave a brief and mild stinging sensation on his skin. He blinked and before he could figure out what he'd done wrong he found himself looking up into Talina's pale green eyes along the length of her finger which was suddenly pointed at the tip of his nose.

"Stay," she commanded.

He didn't move.

"Good boy." She grinned and gave his head a little pat.

Lydia raised her hand to her mouth to try not to laugh aloud at the treatment. Talina had a very odd way of showing affection, though few men complained about it. Torren sank back to lie down beneath her and the corner of his mouth turned up in a little smile. It was hard to be mad at the woman with his cock lodged inside her and returning to its formerly rigid state more and more by the moment.

Talina slid off of him and shifted to his side where she knelt down and lowered her lips to give the tip of his glistening manhood a playful little kiss. After that, she licked their mixed love juices from her mouth and gave him an affectionate wink.

"Stay here, Torren. I'll return soon." Talina lifted herself to stand and reached out to grab her long, hooded cloak and cast it over her bare shoulders. She spent a little time after that affixing her sandals to her feet before blowing her lover a kiss goodbye and departing the tent with Lydia.

For her part, Lydia was adorned in her usual small bronze bikini that highlighted her curves magnificently. Not much modesty could be seen about her luscious frame. Perhaps even more so than her two closest friends, Lydia was quite the exhibitionist. In the heat of the orc encampment, her skimpy attire was a small blessing. She often looked at Torren working the furnace in his tunic and cringed for the poor lad. Although she had to admit that it seemed the gods had finally favoured him as of late.

"I see you've got him well trained." The curvy courtesan quirked a brow toward Talina in amusement.

"He's coming along nicely." Talina lifted her nose loftily whilst keeping her tone tellingly neutral.

"You seemed to be cumming along quite nicely too, from what I saw in there." Lydia contemplatively looked over her shoulder back towards their tent. "Do you mind if I try him? I have to admit, I didn't think much of our resident blacksmith before you took him under your wing."

"He's mine. Train your own," Talina snapped.

Lydia let out a little throaty laugh. "Alright! You can sheathe the claws. I was only curious."

Silence reigned for a few moments as they walked through Bolut's camp at a leisurely pace.

"What are you wanting Torren for anyway? Is the master not keeping you satisfied?"

Lydia frowned at that and offered a shrug of her shoulders that made her sizeable breasts bounce and strain against the tiny arrangement of strings and cloth confining them.

"Gregory has been distant. He wanders off all day into the wilds with Algra. His mind is elsewhere when we bathe him. I've tried to capture his attention. He hardly seems to notice. Between Janette, Algra, and Valise, he has his nights occupied well enough."

"He is a man. Subtlety is hardly going to be his strength. If you want him, then offer yourself more blatantly."

"He saw through one of your masks, Talina. I hardly think he needs help seeing what's right in front of him." Lydia folded her arms across her bountiful bosom and pouted to herself.

"The best place to hide is always in plain sight, Lydia. People don't look for things that are right before their eyes." Talina's gaze shifted forward when Bolut's caravan came into view on the road at the edge of the camp. The other human slaves were busily packing up the wares onto the large cart and the enormous oxen were being settled and fed in preparation for the journey.

"Fine then! I'll just march in his tent this evening and bend over his table after carefully lettering the words "Fuck" and "Me" on my rear end. A word on each cheek. How's that?"

"Perhaps you shouldn't be that blatant." Talina offered her friend a little curve of her lips.

"By the way, I've been dying to ask, how does Torren compare to Gregory?" Lydia lowered their voice to a conspiratorial whisper as they approached the ears of the slaves ahead of them.

Talina's brow furrowed with annoyance for a moment as she looked at Lydia and saw that she was genuinely albeit playfully curious rather than just simply jesting with the question. "He's not as naturally gifted, but he's a good student and we're both enjoying ourselves more and more with each lesson. They're both quite . . . industrious."

Before Lydia could press for juicer details, Emmet shuffled his old bones from around the caravan and laid eyes upon them both.

"There you are! Where have you both been?"

"She was fucking Torren like a wild woman. I watched." Lydia passively replied as she stepped up to the caravan and put her hands on the edge to peek over it and over the assembled array of goods that had already been loaded.

The reply took the wind out of Emmet's sails a little and the poor old man looked for a few moments like he'd just seen a unicorn.

"I'm here now," Talina pressed, "what's the matter?"

Emmet cleared his throat and walked a bit away from the caravan, Talina smoothly fell into step at his side and slid her arm beneath his to help him along. Emmet was a clever man with a keen mind, but the aches and pains of a long and hard life were catching up to him. Lydia saw them moving away and moved to follow but she was stopped when Talina turned her gaze to face her and shook her head. She knew what they were likely about to discuss and it could have put the woman in danger.

"What have you learned?" Emmet asked as they slipped in the gap between two large and currently empty supply tents.

"Nothing." Talina folded her arms and looked away, down at the ground between the tents.

Emmet remained quiet, sensing the bait for an argument was being laid.

"I'm serious! It's all well and good trying to prove something but the proof actually has to be there! I'm certain elder Wren had something to do with what happened to the mad boy but if he did then he's not trying anything else right now. He spends his days at the provings and at the great hall. At night, he sleeps. What more do you want?" Talina's green eyes lit with an angry fire as she turned back to look to Emmet.

"You're sure it's him?" Emmet asked in a carefully relaxed tone.

"No! But if it's not him then I don't know who in all the dark realms it could be." Talina's shoulders sank and her arms unravelled to fall to her sides.

"Don't let your hope fall, girl. There's more than one way to skin a traitor. They've slipped back amongst the shadows, and looking into the abyss for answers is beyond even those with the sharpest eyes." Emmet reached behind himself to rub his sore back as he considered their options. Then after a moment, he looked to Talina again. "Keep your eyes here now, on the camp and on our boy. If we can't seek out our enemy then at least we can defend ourselves. Can you do that without raising anyone's hackles?"

Talina looked around the place. The tents and pavilions that comprised Bolut's section of the camp were made in a relative circle around a central open space with a simple line of stalls beside, bordering the dirt road.

"At night, I can keep watch easily enough but during the day the camp is too busy to effectively guard. Too many orcs and slaves walking through our tents. I only have two eyes. And I need sleep from time to time." Talina rubbed her brow with frustration.

"Take Fiona under your wing then, show her how to use those feline eyes of hers." Emmet suggested.

"That is . . . frowned upon." Talina pointedly didn't elaborate.

"Do it anyway, and tell anyone who frowns at you to take it up with me. Damn it all, girl! My back hurts. Let's go back to our business. If you need anything, ask me." With that, Emmet turned to shuffle back to his own abode.

Talina watched after the old man before turning back towards her home, considering the conversation she'd just had with each stride. She didn't like being on the defensive, but Emmet was right. There wasn't really any other choice. She also didn't particularly want to show Fiona the tricks of counter spying. Though she liked Fiona well enough, sharing that information would likely make her curious about why Talina knew so much about it in the first place.

Gregory had once told her in passing that curiosity and felines weren't a good mix.

Finally, she thought of Torren waiting for her back in her tent and the image of him laid there ready for her perked up her pace somewhat. At least life wasn't all shadows and eyes in the dark.

Not anymore.

* * * * *

"Ow!" Splat.

Janette winced with empathy as she watched Gregory get lifted into the air and slammed down hard against the dirt for the third time that morning.

"You still think too much!" Algra growled before offering her hand to the fallen young man.

Gregory took it reluctantly and allowed himself to be pulled back up on shaky legs.

"Algra, I promise you, I haven't been thinking in at least two hours. It hurts to think right now." He wobbled from side to side as his aching head tried to focus on his sparring opponent.

Algra's words about the short fight and the long fight had indeed sunk in, but that didn't mean he was remotely ready to fight her at her best. She was damned near unbeatable. Not only did she lay him out on his backside every time they engaged each other, she promptly told him exactly what he'd done wrong each time. The orc made punching someone in the face an art form. Janette had been watching them for over an hour, and watching Algra was more like watching a very talented dancer than a fighter.

A very talented dancer with a partner who had two left feet.

It wasn't that Gregory was bad. He was just way out of his league. If things continued on their route, he wouldn't get back to the proving grounds any time soon. Janette knew the deal he'd made with his orc lover. The first time he put her down, she'd admit he was ready to go back to the provings.

It wasn't that he'd thought it was going to be a stroll in the park. He knew and respected Algra well enough to know she was a formidable opponent. Still, he thought he might get at least one sparring victory in a hundred. He'd lost count of how many times she'd put him on his ass after two hundred and thirty six attempts. That was a week ago.

It took her a full fifteen seconds to win the next bout before she casually stood up and walked over to Janette's rock to grab her skin of water and take a few gulps. The jungle was very hot, and beating the living crap out of people was thirsty work.

Janette hopped down from her perch and walked over to Greg, who was still laid out on the ground and enjoying the moment of rest. The soft grass felt good beneath him and the sky was clear and blue above. He saw Janette's beautiful face pop into that view and he looked over to her.

The warm weather and relative privacy allowed her to shun her cloak beneath which she wore only the skimpiest of garments. A collection of thin threads pulled over her hips and between the bare cheeks of her rear, holding together a small triangle of black fabric that was pulled rather suggestively against her sex. Slightly larger triangles of matching cloth covered her plentiful breasts displaying the rounded curves of her cleavage and the undersides of the soft mounds where the material couldn't quite stretch.

A very convincing part of him demanded that he get up and start a gruelling training regimen of ravenous lovemaking right there in the grass. A larger part of him carefully reminded his libido that he could barely stand up.

Janette crouched down beside him. Bright red hair spilled across her shoulders as she tenderly stroked her fingers across the defined muscles of Gregory's chest. Careful not to aggravate any impending bruises, she caressed what felt like warm steel beneath his deeply tanned skin. She loved his new attire. The trunks put quite a bit of his powerful frame on display and she was more than happy to get an eyeful at every opportunity. Even with the newly earned battle scars across his chest, he looked downright delectable.

"Maybe you should both take a longer rest?" she suggested.

"No rest." Algra took another gulp of water.

Gregory kept his focus on Janette. "This is your fault," he grunted whilst trying to summon the will to get back up again.

"My fault?"

"Yeah. Sat on that rock there looking like that. A guy can get distracted." He managed a somewhat weary smile up at her.

She gave his arm a chiding slap but couldn't quite hold back the grin from her lips.

"Ow," Gregory winced. Everything hurt.

"Wuss."

"Yup, that's me alright." Figuring that Algra would soon be returning, he finally lifted his heavy limbs to sit upright and came nose to nose with Janette.

"So, how did you beat her before?" Janette's hand lightly lifted to stroke his cheek.

"Surprised her." Greg turned his head to kiss her open hand.

"So do it again."

"I'm pretty sure it was a special occasion. She doesn't surprise easily." His gaze shifted over to look at Algra who was pouring more water over her face. The sight of that water cascading over Algra's firm, incredibly athletic figure and sliding between her plump breasts caused his tongue to run across his lips.

"I've seen the way she looks at you Greg. She gets weak at the knees." Janette stroked a few stray blades of grass from his shoulder.

"Nope, I've seen her knees quite close up over the past week or so. Hurtling towards my face, along with her fists, elbows, and feet. I can conclusively say there's nothing weak about them." He finally hefted himself up to his feet and he helped the girl up beside him.

"That's not what I meant and you know it. You know I've been hanging out a lot with Talina, right?"

"Mmmm." Talina. Janette. Hanging out. Yum.

"Well, she says that even the best of warriors are always vulnerable. You just have to find that weakness and exploit it, see?" Janette slipped her foot around behind Gregory's ankle in a smooth motion, the skin of her firm thigh caressing along the outside of his leg.

She'd got so far under Gregory's guard with the mental imagery and the smooth manoeuvre that by the time he realised he was being set-up, all she had to do was straighten out her leg. Doing so knocked him completely off balance and her hands gave him a sharp shove to send him sprawling back onto his butt. Again.

"Hey! What the..." Gregory started to complain, but when he looked up at the mischievous glint in the eyes of the redhead above him, he knew the lesson she was trying to convey almost immediately. He stopped, thought about it and then looked over to Algra, who was now approaching them.

Lien_Geller
Lien_Geller
7,071 Followers