Dawning of an Age Ch. 02

My eyes traveled from her small, delicate feet upward, my gaze slipping across her strong calves, her smooth, pale thighs, her slender, wonderful hips, her flat belly, her perfect, soft breasts, to her face. She was nervous, her eyes flicking to mine and away, her teeth capturing her lower lip and chewing gently.

"I want to try something," she said. "Well, I'd like you to try something for me, I guess."

"At this moment, anything," I said. I meant it, too. She was perfect and beautiful and I would do anything she asked of me if only I could look at her while I did it.

"Taste me?" she asked, her voice a whisper, barely audible above the gentle crackling of the fire. "Put your lips on my pussy, your tongue? Lick me, Seth?"

I stood, nodding slowly, my hands loosening my trousers, letting them fall to the floor as I stepped smoothly out of them and moved to her. I gathered her in my arms, lifting her until her downcast eyes were high enough that I could look into them, her breasts pressing just beneath my chin, her skin hot against me. I kissed her, my lips feeling hers, soft and warm and trembling. My hands cupped under her thighs, pulling her legs around me as I knelt and gently lay her back against the blankets.

My lips moved lower, finding the side of her neck, her earlobe, capturing it between my teeth as I ran my tongue across the tip. She gasped, her hands sliding gently across my back.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked.

"I'm going to taste all of you," I said. "Every inch, and then I'm going to taste your pussy."

She moaned as my lips moved to her collar bone, the tops of her breasts, kissing, licking, gently biting. I captured her nipple, pulling it between my teeth and treating it the same as I had her earlobe, if less gently. Lila hissed, her hands coming to the back of my head, her fingers interlocking and pulling me hard into her breast.

Her legs locked behind my back, pulling me to her, my cock brushing against the incredible heat between her legs. I released her nipple and captured the other, her moan becoming a gasping grunt, her hips undulating against me, grinding her wetness against my shaft.

I bit the underside of her breast, nibbling along the edge of her ribcage, kissing her smooth belly. When I reached her hips I kissed and bit at the slender, prominent bones, the juncture where her thigh met hip. I nipped the inside of each thigh, ran my tongue across the skin beside her cunt, the smell of her wetness strong, sweet. I licked each plump, hot lip, marveling at the softness, the sweetness of her. My tongue parted her, juices flooding my tongue, sending a jolt through my entire body as I tasted her absolute arousal, her need for more.

"Oh Seth," she whispered, and I looked up the entire length of her body to see her watching me, her eyes locked to mine, half closed, taking in my face as I slid my tongue higher, finding her clit and circling it, my breath playing in the sparse, wispy blonde curls above. My eyes never left hers as she gasped, her hips rolling, pushing her cunt into my face.

"Your fingers," she moaned.

I slid my hand under my chin, the backs of my fingers brushing against her incredible heat and wetness, finding the soft folds and parting them, my longest finger slipping inside. I pressed it as deeply as I could, reaching as far into her as possible before I was stopped by my knuckles bumping against her wetness.

Lila moaned, her fingers dragging at my hair, pulling me into her even as she pressed herself against me. My free hand slid along her thigh, up to her hip, sliding across and pulling her against me even harder. Her wetness grew, soaking my hand and my face, painting me with her sweet, sticky essence.

Lila's thighs clamped onto my head, her body shaking against my hands and my lips as she came, her cunt squeezing my finger, pulsing and pushing more of her wetness onto me. She screamed, her fingers tangling and pulling at my hair, her hips undulating, trying desperately to push my finger deeper, pull my tongue closer.

Her movements were jerky, uncontrolled as she lost herself in a wash of lust and heat. Her lips were parted, no noise came forth but the gasps of her breath, heavy and fast. I drove my finger in and out of her, pushing her orgasm deeper, drawing it out as my tongue left her clit and I shifted, using my working finger as a guide, waiting until her orgasm reached a hard peak and then pulling my finger from her and plunging my achingly hard cock inside.

She screamed again, her eyes jolting wide open, her hands slapping to my chest, clawing me as her legs snapped around my waist, pulling hard, driving me into her completely. I felt myself against her deepest reaches, her body clamped around me, sheathing me perfectly, stroking me with pulsing, quaking muscles over which she had no control. Her orgasm erupted anew, splashing her wetness onto my balls, across my pelvis.

I held her close as her orgasm tore through her body, laying over her, slowly flexing myself inside her, pushing against her grasping body. Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling my face to hers, her lips open and panting against mine, her eyes fluttering open and closed, every breath driving against my face. She whispered my name over and over as her legs squeezed me close again and again.

As her orgasm faded and she came back to me, I began to move slowly, drawing my length out of her until it felt as though I would fall from her, then pushing slowly back in, inch by inch until I was fully buried inside her again. Lila moaned, her eyes locking on mine, licking her lips before pressing them softly to mine, her tongue flicking out, teasing me.

"I love your cock," she whispered. "I love feeling you inside me, feeling you fill me. Fuck me, Seth. Slow and gentle and forever, just fuck me."

Her hips moved with mine, her legs working with them around my waist, pulling her onto me with every long, slow thrust. Her cunt squeezed me, clamping down when I was buried as deep as I could go and holding onto my shaft, dragging incredibly against my length as I pulled back before relaxing and inviting me deep inside once again.

We built each other slowly, driving ourselves mad with incredible sensation every second. She moved beneath me slowly, bathing me with her pure sensuality as we pushed and pulled at each other. Our pace grew steadily, evolving from slow, patient thrusts to faster, more desperate fucking. Her hands worked into my hair, her forehead pressed to mine, her breasts pushed hard against my chest. I pushed my arms under her shoulders, my hands holding her head, tangling my fingers with her hair as I pulled her onto my cock, my entire body working to drive me deeper inside her.

Her orgasm began, a slow, steady building that started with a quivering in her body that I felt through my cock. Her beautiful blue eyes widened, staring into my own, her mouth open in a silent plea that she soon gave voice.

"Please, Seth," she gasped. "Cum with me. Let me feel you cum inside me. Make me yours, keep me, fill me up. I love your cock, but I need your cum, please."

Her words sent me over an edge I had begun approaching when I first felt her tremble around me, and I drove hard inside her, my eyes wide, every muscle taut, pushing every bit of myself deep into Lila's eager pussy. I erupted, every nerve exploding as I emptied myself into her, driving every burst of my seed with my whole essence, splashing into her with desperate, blissful need.

She pulled my lips to hers, her orgasm washing over us both, meeting my own, accepting it, reveling in it, taking it in completely. Our breath came in short, hard gasps, our shoulders and legs shaking against each other, our foreheads pressed together as I rested my weight on her small, lithe, strong body. We held each other as spasms wracked us, little shocks of our orgasms ripping through us, pulling twitches out of us that drove us against each other, almost too much sensation on our incredibly sensitive sexes.

"You are perfect," I whispered.

"As are you," she replied. "My perfect lover."

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"Will you teach me to hunt?" Lila asked. Her fingers traced the skin of my arm lazily, the tips just brushing against me, traveling from the dips between muscles to tiny burn scars, caressing my imperfections as though they were as beautiful as her own flawlessness.

"I would think you don't need me to teach you anything about catching game," I said. "If your song earlier was any indication, you could sing all the game you'll ever need straight into the pot."

She laughed, that perfectly beautiful, high, melodious laugh, and kissed my arm where her fingers had been before playfully nipping at my skin.

"I don't NEED to know, I want to know," she said. "I want to learn to track and move through the forest like you do. And I want you to teach me to fight."

"You want to learn to fight as well?" I asked. "We would have to spend quite a lot of time together for me to teach you all this, I think."

"Do you think I'd be a bad student?" she asked, playfully feigning offense.

"No," I answered honestly. She would not be a bad student, of that I was sure. "I imagine you would probably learn both much more quickly than I ever did."

"You don't want to spend time with me?" This time she couldn't stop her laugh from bubbling out again, her hands squeezing me, eyes alight with mischief. I joined her, my own laugh much deeper, more rough than the music she made with her mirth.

"I'll teach you," I said. "I'll show you everything that Baba showed me. But without all the hitting when you don't get something right away."

"I appreciate that," laughed Lila. "I don't think I'd much enjoy you hitting me. Maybe on my ass a bit."

She smiled and winked at me, shaking her perfect, round little bottom beneath my hand. I kissed her, squeezing the somehow both soft and firm flesh under my fingers.

"When do you want to start?"

"How about after we eat?" she replied. "I don't imagine that learning to hunt and fight is something that should be done on an empty stomach."

"Hunting, maybe," I mused. "But fighting, no. For that you'll want to have a full, settled stomach."

We ate, warming the bread and cheese by the fire, peeling off strips of the slow-cooked rabbit and laying them over top. It was not a fancy meal, but it was delicious, and it filled us. We talked while we ate and after, waiting to digest a bit before I gave her the first lesson. Lila was a delight to talk to, the only other person I knew aside from Baba who could read, and she had read everything she could get her hands on.

In those days, that amounted to signs, lists of ingredients from market stalls, postings by passing armies. It wasn't exciting material, for the most part, nor was it particularly imaginative stuff, but it made her the most well-informed person I knew. She was smart, and able to extract meaning from the words that was not on the page.

She knew the movement of armies, a bit about what happened outside the reaches of the nearest villages. Lila could explain what the world was like, at least for a bit of a distance away from the only home I'd ever known. I was fascinated as she explained the rise and fall of warlords, the holdings of some that changed with the seasons and each new conflict. We were lucky, she said, that no single warlord had gained enough power to push into our immediate area and keep hold.

The way of the world was war, or at least conflict. The strong took what they could and kept it for as long as they could. This system worked on every level, a sort of fallback for those who had neither goods nor services to exchange wherein they could brutalize their way to wealth and power. You keep the belongings of those you kill. It was true for warlords and peasants alike. If you couldn't pay, you were welcome to fight it out.

Brutal, yes, but effective. It was accepted almost universally among the people that I knew, and was the principal reason that Baba had insisted that I learn to fight and forge my own weapon.

When our bellies were settled, I beckoned her to stand and cleared away our bed of blankets. The ceiling was low, but it wouldn't matter much today. The first lesson was nothing fancy, nothing that would risk either of us hitting our heads.

I taught her to dance. A simple, steady, four step dance that took her in a brief square, bringing her right back to where she started. I made her do it for hours, repeating the same motions over and over and over. We rested, then began again, adding a new step that threw her balance in a different direction.

All day, we danced. I added steps one at a time until the dance became a complex thing that pushed her body in every direction, forcing her to focus on her feet, her balance, making her shift her weight suddenly to new directions.

She never questioned, never asked why. It wasn't that she didn't want to know, rather she had already figured it out. Lila was a quick learner, and already a better student than I had ever been.

When the sun disappeared, we ate again and made love, her body exhausted but willing, a slow, gentle coupling in our little cave, warm and safe and far from the world of fighting men.

The next day we devoted to hunting, and I showed her how to move through the forest around our little grotto without noise, testing her steps, making her feel the ground beneath her feet before she pressed her weight down. I taught her to feel the wind, to pay attention to its direction, to keep herself moving into it whenever possible. She absorbed every word, putting everything I said into practice as though she had done it a hundred times. I marveled at her eagerness, her adaptability, so much greater and more fluid than my own.

We made moving through the forest a sort of game, her moving off into the trees as I closed my eyes, counting to fifty before setting off after her, using only my ears to find her. By the end of the day she was good enough that it was no easy task to follow her quiet, sure steps.

As the afternoon grew long, we gathered our bundle and played the game a final time, tracking and hiding from each other as we walked back to her father's farm. We stopped just out of sight of the little stone house and kissed, our lips longing for more, already saddened by the thought of our time apart.

"One week," Lila whispered. And then she sprinted away, her flimsy blanket billowing behind her.

One week.