Welldark B2 Ch. 03

A faint sensation nudged me out of my dream world. My mind retained the simulation for a little while. I was the lone man on an undiscovered island. The sky was a grid of hexagons, connecting dots that weren't. The island was inhabited only by gorgeous women between twenty and forty. Lines extended upwards, penetrating the two dimensional sky. The women were all strong of character and yet deeply submissive sexually. The island was where I was currently at. All the women were sluts, only for me and each other. They were led by none other than Esther. I was fondling her sizable boobs.

What I dreamt could not compare to what I actually felt. As my mind rose to reality, the realization dawned that I was actually working Esther's tits. The lady of my love lay in front of me with her back against my chest. She was the little spoon to my big one. Sizable as her assets were, I did hesitate to call her little, admittedly.

The instinctual kneading I gave her breasts switched to deliberate fondling. I grabbed her left tit roughly, while pinching the nipple of the right. Esther pressed her naked back against me. I blinked a few times, realizing that it wasn't yet morning. The air was humid, the open window letting in the nightly breeze. It made our skin sticky.

Dimly, her amber eyes glowed in the dark. They found mine, an adorable drowsiness on her face. "Sorry, just instincts," I apologised. Morning sex was our norm, so my honest body had done what my equally honest mind would have instigated and worshipped the raven-haired beauty. "Want me to stop?"

"Hmmm." Esther let out a throaty yawn and stretched. The roundness of her juicy ass rubbed against my erection. "No, continue," she told me, snuggling her back against my chest. That our sweat made us stick together, she seemed to not care about.

Her agreement created a hunch and I reached between her legs to find her notably wet. Our youthful urges were, as per usual, matched. The compatibility of our physical forms extended even into awakening simultaneously in the middle of the night. Relief was needed, before we could find rest again. Delectable gasps accompanied the renewed attention I paid to her form.

I claimed her lips, first brushing over them with my fingers, then bowing down and kissing her. My left arm, the one she partly laid on, returned to working her breasts. One after the other, I squished her sizable, yet firm mounds of female flesh. Always, her sexual inclinations had appeared complimentary to mine. Since I spurred on the awakening of her kinks, this had become an observable fact. I twisted her nipple and she moaned loudly and unashamedly in masochistic delight. As a reward, I curved two fingers into her pussy. Wet, slick sounds filled the large bedroom. She grinded her hips into my moving fingers.

In less than a minute, she reached completion. Sensitivity when awakening horny in the middle of the night was often far above the average. It was the same for me. Esther must have known that, breaking our kiss to make a wonderful suggestion, "You can use my breasts." Her voice still quivered with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

I considered and swiftly nodded. Fucking her was fantastic, but this was going to be a short affair. She rolled onto her back. I straddled her. Squishing her enormous breasts together, she created a tight crevice of hot flesh. My opening was the delectably deep line of her underboobs. The head of my cock pushed into the hot, firm and yet yielding cleavage. A couple of thrusts, and my precum had lubricated enough that I could slide back and forth.

All Esther had to do to satisfy me was to lie there, if I was being perfectly honest. My heart had not fallen in the hands of a woman who was content being a mere receptacle, however. Kneading her breasts, she indirectly massaged my erection. Nearly all of it was enveloped by her beautiful breasts. Only the tip of my girthy cock peeked out from her cleavage and only when my groin pressed against the underside. Every little rub of her marshmallow breasts, I felt somewhere along my shaft.

Esther's panting was as constant as my own. Her breasts were objects of true wonder. Large, enormous even, firm, jiggly, and so sensitive that her moans filled the room. All of her body seemed to be the manifestation of my erotic desires. She was perfect, with manifold paths to please and be pleased.

I clenched my teeth, knowing that I could make her orgasm a second time if I just lasted long enough. To spur on her pleasure, I played with her nipples, gave her cheeks a few little smacks. They were more for the humiliation than the pain. A wonderful reminder of who served who in the bedroom. When we were both getting closer, I grabbed her throat and slowly squeezed.

Eyelids fluttered. Hips shot up behind me. Her hands clawed into her own breasts, tensed involuntarily. Overabundant squish spilled between her fingers. The sight and her choked cries brought me to the edge and I announced as much.

"I'm going to cum," I groaned, wondering if she even heard me through her blissful haze. The answer was in the way her glassy gaze found mine. Her breasts slumped aside when her hands forcefully relaxed. I was only shortly bereft of pleasure, as she grabbed my cock firmly with both hands. I deemed that as a less satisfying way to orgasm, until she brought her open mouth to the head of my cock. The glans rested on her outstretched tongue, massaging that sensitive spot at the bottom while she worked my shaft. "Oh, oh yes," I gasped and unloaded.

Spurt for spurt I filled her mouth with a large serving of my seed. Whether it was the constant positive reinforcement or the sexual aspects of an Anomalia starting to manifest, tasting my cum sent visible aftershocks rippling through her nubile curves.

Just like she had done during our first time, she gathered the entirety of my load in her mouth. When her hands had wrung the last drop from my shaft, she pulled back to present the white batch. "Swallow," I ordered her and she closed her mouth, gulping audibly. When she presented her tongue again, it was clean. "Good girl," I yawned.

Although I wanted to ask what had spurred that sudden willingness to get her tongue on my dick, I was way too tired to formulate a proper sentence. In the absence of the lust, my need for sleep crashed back down on my mind stronger than ever. Resigning myself to asking in the morning, I practically fell down on the mattress. With the last bits of consciousness, I put my arms around my Queen. Esther wiggled back into the previous position. Our breathing was almost in sync.

___________________________________________

Hours later, I awoke again. The incredible heat of the summer day let me know that it was the appropriate time. Blinking, I noted that I was lying on my back. A most unusual situation, prompting me to search for my nightly cuddling partner.

I found Esther in a most pleasing position between my legs. Naked, she had her face lowered to my groin and her butt raised. A quick glance up confirmed that she saw me moving. Then she gave my morning wood (second morning wood, technically) a poke. The gesture was laden with a kind of playfulness she only displayed around me. It made me chuckle, amused and joyful in equal measure.

"If I may inquire, queen of my heart, what are you doing down there?" I asked.

"I am considering if I want to try," Esther responded.

"Is it because Danielle pointed out some standard blowjob techniques yesterday?" I inquired. Although I most certainly wasn't the target audience of lectures on how to orally please a male, I had been listening to it with great interest. The lesson had been part biology, part psychology, and part life advice. That was a summary of most of the Sexual Skills classes, really.

What went into a blowjob? A fascinating question, really. What drove mankind to look at the mouth of their fellow people and decide that it was a sexual orifice? The fundamental answer appeared to be that oral favours were a way of pleasing others while avoiding the risk of pregnancy. That had been the trivia setting up the whole lecture. From there it was a breakdown of nerve endings and how best to stimulate them. After that had followed the importance of employing techniques that were as much physically gratifying as they were visually stimulating.

Personally, I could say that I liked my blowjobs on the messier side. There was a special pleasure to seeing saliva and precum mix and draw gooey strands between my groin and a woman's face. I like the squelching sounds, the glistening of sweat, and the dripping of fluids from chins. Pace and 'cleanliness' of the service were a matter of preference. Life advice had been the same old, nevertheless important, reminder to always keep communicating with our partners.

"I'm more comfortable with the idea now that I have technical knowledge," Esther stated and trailed her finger up to the top. After a few moments of hesitation, she leaned down and gave my balls a kiss. It was the first of many. Lewd, little smacking sounds were caused by each.

I only produced pleased little gasps. Eagerly, I observed her getting more comfortable using her lips on my manhood. 'Has the barrier been shattered? Is this the morning?' I asked the world, not anticipating an answer. My eyes eventually wandered from her attractive face to her raised ass. The twin globes drew my eyes for a while. Esther curiously shifted her weight left to right, making her bubble butt swing. It was the cutest and sexiest little habit.

"It is almost worrisome how mesmerizing I find your manhood." Esther presented the killer line in such a wholesome tone that the mentioned body part instinctively twitched. "I remember how great a pleasure this has brought me. My interest is piqued." Finally, she stretched out her tongue and licked up from the base to the tip. It was a quick travel upwards, almost like she was tasting a popsicle. For a start, it wasn't bad. "A peculiar texture," she mumbled. "How smooth, and yet veiny."

I awaited the moment when she would wrap her lips around the tip and go further. Esther was clearly ruminating on whether or not she was comfortable with it. My eyes, meanwhile, were left to wander. "I'm proud of you, Esther, for trying to get over your inhibitions," I told her, just as my eyes landed on her back.

It was not on purpose. I generally avoided staring at her back. At those horrid scars that covered more than half of it. The large circle started below the neckline and ended with the lowest ribs. The blade had needed a barrier, as it carved through twitching skin and muscles. One of twelve lines, similarly jagged, their colour the clean white of well-healed injuries, extended down her spine. The others, typically shorter, were spread out like the segments of a clock. Their asymmetry and malicious nature made them unpleasant to look at. A cruel irony lay in the clock-like shape.

Truly hideous were the two fleshy, pinkish patches that ran in parallel to her shoulder blades. Texture and colour was bad enough, the width of those scars, three of my fingers put together, only furthered the gruesomeness. It was all the more terrible for the smooth skin that surrounded the scars. A profane desecration of my sacred lady.

I realized my mistake when Esther shot upright, ripping her back out of my vision. Trembles went through her body. Her eyes were of a dull, brass colour and avoided mine.

A deep sigh got stuck in my throat. Too easily could my frustration with myself be misunderstood to be frustration with her. I had made her feel unsafe. She was frozen, like a deer in intense light. Quickly, I scanned the room for her shirt. I had persuaded her to leave it behind last night. Now, a safety blanket was required.

"Here." I offered her the simple, dark blue shirt. Her trembles intensified. Pressed together, her lips lost all colour. A frustration beyond words. I could understand. "You're making good progress, Esther," I told her as softly and honestly as I could. "Nothing is to be gained from you forcing yourself this much." I put the shirt over her shoulders. "There's always the next morning."

"Thank you, my Karitas." Her sultry voice was meeker than usual. A deep breath and her eyes returned to their typical amber.

I loved the way she put on the shirt. Swiftly, she pushed her arms through the sleeves. The hair, stuck under the collar, was freed in a fanning motion. The chaos of her untamed mane was in full display. Dishevelled strands settled in a deeply attractive look. My favourite strand, the one across her face, was particularly pronounced that morning.

What I loved most about her putting on her shirt was that she did not even consider buttoning it. The open middle of the shirt framed her breasts. Deliberately, as the wanton gaze she shot me made clear. She crawled on top of me. "I hunger, beloved Karitas, and I wish to be distracted from... that."

"It would be unwise of me to ignore my Queen's wishes," I thought out loud and grabbed her ass. A whirl had her fall down on the mattress, with me on top. Before we got started, I needed to get just one thing off my chest. "I did not mean to stare," I assured her. "I love you."

Esther placed a hand on my cheek. "I know," she responded with a light smile. "I love you too."

Many more meaningful words were spoken, as we indulged in our morning rituals.

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Obviously, sex was the highlight of my every morning. As a young adult with honest desires, getting to live them out was most certainly the perfect start to the day. Then that transitioned into me accompanying Esther into the shower and delighting in her body a little more. The absolute honour it was to 'help' her clean herself could not be emphasized enough.

A recent development was what happened after I left the shower. Esther tended to her hair, I prepared breakfast, that was the dynamic that had been established over the past three months. In the past week, a new addition to the household had shaken up that configuration.

I stepped into the mixture of living room and open kitchen with a hum in my throat and a smile on my lips. Clean and satisfied, I went from the presence of one gorgeous haremette to that of a prospective one.

Aclysia stood in the kitchen, diligently observing the development of an omelette. She was wearing an apron over her school uniform. Not quite the sexy combination of an apron and her birthday suit. Regardless, her sight was enough to challenge my 'sexually satisfied' status. The roundness of her butt filled her pleated skirt. A sight for a pervert's eyes, she shifted her weight from left to right, wiggling that sizable bottom of her pear-shaped figure. I could see the little jiggles those motions created. Recollections of that very same butt under my palm had me grope the air in an attempt to hold on to those memories.

'Is that little wiggle a thing girls I am attracted to just do, did she pick it up from Esther, or did I get that lucky twice?' I thought, hypnotized by the back and forth sway. I must have stood there for a full minute just... watching.

Raising my gaze, I caught her glancing at me over her shoulder. A pleased glint was in her emerald eyes and a maidenly smile on her lips. She was enticing me. She had been enticing me every morning this past week. To give in was natural, perfectly justified even. An offer to the benefit of both parties was only refused by a fool.

I walked up to her. "Morning." The simple word was my first greeting, the second the fulfilment of my hands' desire. Even with both hands, I could not cup the entirety of her backside. "Bubble butts like yours are a gift to the sapient races. Nothing, not even the boons of chocolate and coffee combined, could compare."

Aclysia chuckled, a reserved sound that was exactly as quiet as she wanted it to be. Had she trained herself to make her voice an exclusive treat for the master who was to stand close to her, his chosen maid, perhaps? To monopolize a voice was not among my typical desires, yet I could not dismiss how intrigued I was by the concept. Little whispers and giggles that only belonged to me. What a fantastic treat to consider.

"This is a softer greeting than usual, Karitas," she said to me, while I carefully found where her plump behind met the mixture of fat and muscles of her thighs. It was such an interesting area of the human physique, that crease of squish. Doubly so for the female 90% of the population.

My typical stance towards fat was that I preferred it absent, with some varying degrees depending on body type. When it came to butts and thighs, a layer of fat was greatly appreciated. The preferred core of any good backside and meaty legs was still muscle. Encapsulating it with a squishy surrounding was a biological synergy of the highest order. The layer of fat gave an ever squishy, plump surrounding to the hard definitions underneath. When smooth skin then further covered that round and sizable combination, glory was achieved.

Glory was at my fingertips. I shamelessly reached under her skirt and grabbed her firm, juicy cheeks directly. "I did not want to reduce your work to scrambled eggs," I told her, looking at the slowly solidifying omelette.

"Always aware," Aclysia responded, appreciation swinging in her voice. After one more squeeze, I left her to concentrate on cooking.

Had I been acting on pure desire, I would have sacrificed the quality of the breakfast in favour of smacking her backside and doing whatever else came to mind. My goal was not to merely engage in eroticisms with Aclysia, I wished to be intimate with her. The difference was the emotional component and such a thing had to be carefully cultivated with deliberate action.

Paying attention was generally the greatest tool one had when it came to making a lasting impression. It sounded quite obvious, but anyone who had lived more than a few years knew how difficult it could be to listen to someone talk. Watching what someone was doing could be even harder. It was made a little easier and a little harder if that someone had such a fantastic ass.

Attention often had to be deliberately maintained. Personally, I had trained myself for many years to be aware of what was going on around me. It went hand in hand with my ability to open portals and teleport. Situational awareness was a fantastic tool in courtship, because everyone loved it when they were given what they needed without having to ask. It was also a fantastic tool to avoid the pain of teleporting into a wall.

I gave Aclysia her opportunity to make the perfect breakfast and I got the perfect breakfast. Honestly, I was the winner here. People like her, who derived glee from being of service, were an absolute blessing to everyone who knew them. A downright necessity for a harem as well, I considered. 'When my Anomalia is full, every breakfast will have to be for eleven people. Someone has to enjoy cooking duty.'

I sat down at the table and pulled out my Ashod. Had I come to the kitchen about twenty minutes earlier, I could have helped with the prep work. Far along as she was, I would have just been in the way.

Browsing the internet, I contemplated the future of my lifestyle. I always knew I wanted a harem and I was certain I was willing to put the work in. Two stunning women, with bodies to match the beauty of their souls, I could already call mine. With those successes under my belt, I kept reconsidering what I had done right and what I had done wrong. Up until recently, I had paid near exclusive attention to the wooing part, not the rest of the life that came after that.

'Really difficult to make any definite considerations when there's so much still open.' I came to the same conclusion as usual. What I had right now worked. My duty was to keep paying attention and do for the women of my love whatever I could. As much as I liked being treated to a home cooked breakfast every morning, I did not want to be pampered. Well, I did not want my existence to be defined by being pampered. Spending the occasional day in bed, surrounded by tits, ass, and compliments, that was definitely on the menu.