To Save a World Ch. 06

The women laughed.

"Yes, master." Lydia finally said, when they were able to recover. "We do mean sex. Lots, and lots, and lots of sex. Apparently" She looked at Serche with a new kind of respect.

"None of that now," Serche chastised, sensing the other young woman's increasingly salacious tone. "My wilding has not begun, and we things have to do, yet."

"Oh come on. I can't be the only one aroused right now." Lydia pouted, then she perked up. "Wait, prepare? Why'd we need to prepare?"

The Shaman laughed. There was something about her body language that told Aaron that if the young woman could blush, she would be blushing so furiously right now. "Um. Because... We would not be able to work at all in the upcoming days, I think."

Aaron heard a deep, hungry growling noise.

"Oh." Lydia breathed, face flush, and her eyes wide, looking back and forth from Aaron to Serche. 'Wait,' thought Aaron, 'Was I the one who made that sound?' . Apparently he was. Serche was also staring at him with a look that he was coming to know rather well.

"Really," Serche finally breathed, breaking the tension. "Nothing of this, I said. Not yet..."

"This sucks." Lydia pouted. Aaron couldn't do anything but laugh.

The spell broken, the group came to a silent, mutual agreement to not frustrate themselves even further. They rose and started to tend to the various tasks of the camp. There was a silent, excited anticipation in their movements, their preparation taking a different hue under the light of the previous conversation that they had.

Aaron and Lydia, remembering what Serche said about not being able to work in the next few days, prepared. They tripled their already abundant supply of firewood. They scoured the nearby forest for as much spices and food as they could find. Serche gathered all the deerskins that they have accumulated the previous weeks, and shyly handed it over to the pair. It would be their treehouse that would become the next few day's nest.

Dinner that night was subdued, the expectant atmosphere foreign and strange, but not at all unwelcome.

"So, Serche" Aaron began to voice something that has been on his mind throughout the day. "Trasnu, did he leave because... of this?"

"Oh. Hmm." Serche mused. She had become visibly distracted as time passed, even jumpy. "A huge part of it, certainly. Trasnu... Would not be able to tend to me."

Aaron suddenly wondered if he should ask the immediate question in his mind, but before he could decide Lydia already beat him into it.

"Why is that?" Lydia mentioned, curious. "I've noticed, as well."

"He cannot be with anyone of us, I think."

"He prefers men?"

Serche shook her head. "No, he cannot be with anyone. The death of his wife has cut him far too deeply, in far too many different ways."

Lydia was about to ask further, but Aaron touched her arm to stop her. They would not pry. The camp lapsed into silence once again.

"Serche?" Lydia asked in a small voice. "How would we know if you... you know, are entering the wilding?"

The Shaman smiled, almost predatorily. "Oh, you'll know."

The very next morning, they did.

Aaron awoke, and he felt Lydia's soft, small warmth cuddled into him as his little spoon -- as usual. Also, his cock was rock hard with its morning wood, digging into her supple behind, as usual. What was not usual was finding Serche with them, on their bed, molesting Lydia into wakefulness. Her hands were already under the smaller woman's clothes, roaming her warm skin, although perhaps the young woman woke from Serche's kisses and nibbles on her neck and jaw.

The sight jolted him awake, his jaw hanging open. Lydia made a particularly pleasurable sounding groan, arching her body up into the Shaman's ministrations, squirming pleasantly in his hold and in Serche's ministrations. Serche's hands must've found her breasts. Aaron wondered if she was already awake.

"Wha --" Lydia began to say, her words cut off as it evolved into a moan. "Oh. I guess it's time now. Hello, Serche." She panted at the woman above her. Serche planted her mouth into hers.

He was treated into what was probably one of the most erotic kind of scenery there was in the whole world; two gorgeous women kissing. Even though the event of a lifetime happened mere inches away from his own two eyes, much of the action was obscured by both women's heads. From what he could see, though -- it was as much as kiss as it was a meal, and Serche was one hungry eater. Serche ravaged Lydia's mouth, her kiss hungry, devouring and demanding. Lydia could do nothing but give and give.

They broke the kiss off after a long moment. Lydia panted heavily, turned on beyond measure -- but Serche had set her sights on Aaron. She scrambled over, intent. Her golden eyes were glazed, mouth open in an unthinking, lustful pant. They were the kind of eyes that said only one thing.

Their lips met. Serche had started to fancy herself the aggressor, but she met her match in Aaron. Their lips moved as if seeking to establish dominance, their tongues less dueled and more devoured each other. Aaron's hands found themselves tangled into Serche's hair, holding her in place, her messy, undone braids becoming the perfect handholds for him as he took as much as he was given. Beside him, Lydia moaned. Apparently, Serche's right hand still clutched Lydia's tit, even as she made out with Aaron.

'Damn, that's hot' he said to himself. He planned to make it even hotter still.

They kissed. One hand went down to caress her shoulder, her back, her ass, her legs. Positioned as she was on all fours on top of the couple, it was very easy for him to sweep back up her thigh and back to her ass. She felt strange, but wonderful. The way her fur felt made him want to scratch at it, so he did, raking his nails up and down her body, firmly squeezing the tight globes of her ass as the muscles beneath flexed every time she changed position. Searche, meanwhile, still had a hand on Lydia's boob, cupping and squeezing, mercilessly teasing Lydia's rock hard nipples. Their tongues still dueled. She tasted like sweet spice.

She disengaged their lips with a pop. Serche seemed to decide something and plopped down unto Aaron's lap instead of switching over to Lydia once again. The Shaman sat on his obvious hard-on. She immediately ground down rhythmically.

It was quite a sight. Serche was, beyond a doubt, well and truly horny. She was like a force of nature as she sat on his cock, grinding and grinding and grinding, her mouth open in long, silent gasps. Her existence centered on pleasure, on her flooded core, and Aaron imagined that he felt the heat of her even through the layers of their clothes. One hand squeezed her own breast almost roughly, the flesh of her mounds spilling over her palms oh so wonderfully. The other hand held on to Lydia's clothes, pulling the young woman towards her.

Lydia scrambled to obey, Serche's insistence soon had both women kissing again. Lydia was on her knees, legs spread over Aaron's torso, her perky ass presented to her master. Meanwhile, Serche's mouth was devouring, and she was a willing meal. Their bodies were pressed so close to each other, their difference in size not more obvious to Lydia in that moment as she seemed to drown in the larger Shaman's embrace. Serche's pillowy breasts pressed into hers exhilaratingly.

The both of them barely came up for air. When they did, both women shared the heat of their panting breaths. Serche's hands thrust down inside her garments to cup and knead both cheeks of her rump, making her mewl and whimper on their kiss. Encouraged, she did the same to her captor. Her hands felt small compared to the firm, yielding hills of Serche's ass.

"Master," Lydia breathed in those rare moments when Serche let go of her lips to suck and nibble on her ear instead. "I think... If you don't remove your trousers soon, she might tear them off of you." She warned.

Lydia gasped, receiving a hand that cupped her leaking slit for her troubles. Serche reached down into her and began to rub and knead her mound firmly, almost roughly, grazing her clit with the strange texture of her palm.

Aaron complied -- and then paused. There were two women on top of him -- he was trapped. But was he really going to let that delightful fact get in the way of freeing his aching cock? No, of course not. Not to mention, if he didn't do it soon, he might not have any pants at all.

He struggled, bent and twisted himself to pull his pants off of himself in his restricted form, both women lapping away on top of him. He finally shoved the offending garment off of his crotch. His cock might have leapt into rigidity if not for Serche's wonderful weight pressing down on it. And he wasn't mistaken -- she was wet through her undergarments. He felt her wetness as she ground down on him, slick and sizzling. Her movements were suddenly more urgent now that she could feel his hardness closer to her.

By some magic, Serche's clothes disappeared from around her hips. In his mind, Aaron praised Lydia with words that were usually reserved for monarchs -- now there was nothing in between his cock and Serche's cunt.

And just like that, he was inside her.

It was breathtaking in its simplicity, her movement precise and almost graceful. One second they were grinding into each other, the next he was balls-deep into Serche, her velvety tightness gripping him with a wanton, hungry strength. Aaron moaned, a noise deep and primitive. Serche herself grunted animalistically, her face tilted up into the heavens.

Unwilling to relinquish her prize, her hands curiously held on to Lydia even as her movements grew more and more intense. She grasped the smaller woman's ass like a handhold, the other hand cupping her leaking snatch from behind as Serche began to move her hips in firm, circular motions. Aaron's cock ground inside of her, hitting places Serche didn't know could be pleasurable, places she didn't know even existed. Mindless with desire, she began to bounce on his cock, taking small Lydia with her movements. Serche held the diminutive woman like a lifeline.

Pinned beneath two bouncing beauties, Aaron could do little but groan. His cock was used as nothing more than a tool for Serche to get off, nothing more than a fuckstick, with little regard for anything other than Serche's own pleasure.

The Shaman varied her pace, exploring. Sometimes she intensely drove herself up and down on his cock. Sometimes, she kept him buried to the root as she circled and rippled her hips. Sometimes she bounced up and down in short thrusts. Always, she kept Lydia with her, her hands on the smaller woman's ass, her mouth either buried in the crook of Lydia's neck or kissing her roughly. Vaguely, Aaron wondered if Serche unconsciously held on for support. Or maybe she just enjoyed preying on the young woman, like a dog playing with a favorite bone.

Regardless, Lydia didn't voice any particular displeasure. She held the bouncing Shaman, swept by her lust like a leaf on a stormy river.

Serche settled on a rhythm; a rapid, punishing up and down that must've been hell on the thighs. Somehow, she was able to accurately determine the apex of her upward movement -- never once did her prized hard meat escape from her greedy pussy. Her downward thrusts always ended with a satisfied grunt.

Aaron could feel the change. He didn't know that it was possible, but her hips drove harder, with more urgency. Her sounds more guttural, expectant and demanding, mindlessly craving. He couldn't see Serche's face, but he was sure that her expressions would be twisted fiercely in exertion and pleasure, the face of a woman on a mission, a predator running down her prey which was her release. Lydia whimpered as the woman's fingers dug into her flesh painfully. Her internal muscles even seemed to grip him harder, loathe to relinquish the width of him, unwilling to give even a centimeter of length.

Aaron could feel Serche rapidly climbing her peak. In the back of his mind, he wondered what would happen to him if he inadvertently came right this moment and deprived Serche of a satisfactory climax. She would probably tear him apart.

Fortunately, last night, like all previous nights in the forest, had ended with his load inside Lydia. He was used to dealing with an insatiable woman. He had a lot more to give.

Serche sat on his cock one final time, grinding down hard -- and emitted a sound that was a cross between a grunt and a whimper. He could feel her pussy ripple along his length. Lydia's bones probably creaked the way Serche hugged her in full strength. The Shaman shuddered for several moments, inside and out, then let out an explosive breath of air. She sagged against Lydia.

Aaron sighed deeply. "Well, that wasn't so bad."

Serche hummed contentedly, her body a liquid of pure pleasure against Lydia. After several moments, the Shaman resumed the little, teasing motions of her hips, stirring her insides with Aaron's still-stiff rod.

"Oh yeah" Aaron moaned, "I can see how this would be bad."

Rays of lucidity pierced Serche's mind like sunrays passing through a thick cloud of lust. The first thing that immediately registered was that she was panting hard; her lungs making deep, laborious breaths of exhaustion. The second was the large, intrusive, oh-so-right slab of meat that reached so deep inside her, generating waves of pleasure that crawled under her skin. And the third was the hum of her still wanting pussy, begging her to do more.

Serche blinked. She couldn't see anything. She soon discovered that that was because she was nuzzled in Lydia's shoulder. The smaller woman smelled like arousal. In fact, everything reeked of sweat and sex, the musky odor multiplied by her acute nose, the contrast with the crispness of the early morning mist of the forest all the more pronounced.

"Hello." Lydia greeted her warmly.

Serche hid her face back into Lydia, whimpering shyly. Her fingers were wet. They smelled like pussy.

"Hello." Serche mumbled in reply. Her hips continued the circular motion on Aaron's cock.

"Hi." Aaron greeted with a small chuckle, which embarrassed Serche even more.

"Shh." Lydia soothed, the warm breath on her sensitive ears making her shudder. "Don't mind us. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. We welcome this -- we love it. Isn't it wonderful? His cock must feel so good inside you, huh?"

Serche nodded, breathing hard, the movement of her hips speeding up fractionally.

"I know." Lydia whispered. "I've had him in me too."

Serche gasped, and then groaned. She drove her hips down demandingly. She could feel her wetness squeezing past her entrance, past the hard slab of cock meat plugging it. Her crotch was a dirty, bubbly froth made up of their combined juices. Her sharp ears could detect the faintest, littlest squelch and smack of their coupling. Lydia's nails raked firm, soothing circles on her back. Serche's blood simmered with lust.

"You feel wonderful, Serche." Aaron complimented from below them. "So good on my cock. It's like you belong there.

"Masterrr" Lydia complained sexily, "I thought I belonged there, on your cock."

"You do too, baby." He confirmed, "But this time it's Serche's turn."

"Well, you heard our master." The demon-touched sighed theatrically. She looked into Serche's golden eyes. "Today's your turn, you better make the most of it."

Serche nodded obediently.

"You better fuck your cunt with it so good." Lydia encouraged in breathy whispers directly to her canine ears. "Better shape your insides to master's cock. Because he owns it now. Doesn't he? He owns both of us now."

The proud shaman whimpered, unsure. Wasn't this supposed to be her wilding?

"Say it." Lydia demanded. For such a small person, those lava eyes could hold so much intensity.

"Yes." Serche whimpered. "He owns me now."

"He owns your cunt. Say it."

"He..." The Shaman shuddered. She didn't know how it could be possible, but she swore she could feel Aaron's cock grow harder inside of her. "He owns my cunt now. It's his."

"Perfect." Lydia purred. It was the last thing Serche heard, her consciousness swallowed back by the fog in her mind. Like a rock sinking to the bottom of a lake, her rationality was replaced by the pure, unadulterated lust of her wilding.

All she was were sensations; the stretch of her cunt muscles against Aaron's girth, the give of her depths as they surrendered to his length, the constant lightning flashes of pleasure on her clit as she ground against him. Lydia's arms around her became fuzzy spots of warmth and comfort, something to hold on to amidst the maelstrom of pure physicality that she had become.

She made a sound; half helpless choking, half wanton keen. And then her hips began to drive up and down again.

She fucked herself on Aaron's stick for a long time. Her repeated impalement brought her no small amount of joy. Every movement of his rigid meat inside her was as natural as breathing, as second-nature as her magic, yet the pleasure it brought her was something that bordered on addiction.

This time, Aaron could just barely hold back. Serche could feel the young man try to control himself, as if his cock clenched in defiance of all his instincts to release his spend inside of her.

She believed that she took it as a challenge, though she would never be sure.

Serche bounced harder, her thighs burning. The slap of her crotch against his sounded desperate, almost violent. As out of control though she was, the beastmen were people of near-unequalled physical ability, and she displayed this trait in the way that she fucked -- she bounced wildly, but also with the grace that only the peak of physical fitness can give. Her breasts thrashed about in violent circles.

Her body tightened. She could feel it. Like climbing a cliff, reaching the peak with the winds and the clouds and the very spirits of creation whipping about you, and then looking down below -- she knew deep in her bones that what was coming next would be monumental.

Unexpectedly, Aaron came first. He groaned -- long, deep, primal. Heat blossomed from within her as he erupted inside. It felt like her very womb was flooded by thick, burning lava.

The sensation shoved Serche off that cliff.

It was a devastating fall. She clenched. Every single part of her seemed to tremble as she cried out her release, her scream sought to express the encompassing, blindingly white pleasure that exploded within her in the most basic way possible. After the moment passed, she became a spent puddle of liquid satisfaction.

She groaned unintelligently, a ray of lucidity piercing her brain once again. She was exhausted. Well and truly wiped out in the way that only a good fucking can deliver.

Yet her core still itched, still wanted more. Desire still simmered in her blood, beaten back by her efforts but not in any measure vanquished. So, this was how it felt. She had almost forgotten. She felt Aaron's spend seep past their connected sexes. He was still hard.

Dangerously close to literally stirring herself up into a frenzy again, the Shaman managed to slide herself off Aaron's marvelous organ. Her cunt felt empty without it, incomplete, and somehow hungry. It felt like everything below her hips were wet and slimy.

Lydia caught her, laid her down in a more restive position beside the pair. She expected Lydia to come lie beside her and comfort her -- she had gotten used to the relaxing touch of her Dusk demon friend -- but instead she heard Lydia demand, almost piteously.

"Masterrr." She whined "I know it's Serche's turn today, but I've been so obedient and I'm so, so..."

Aaron talked to Lydia, but he held Serche's gaze with a smile in his eyes as she slowly blinked with tiredness, marveling at what she was hearing. 'Does she really think that he can still...?'