Sex and the Spellplague Ch. 05

The irresistible urge to taste her dark, velvety sex overwhelmed him at the first scent of her arousal. Her put his palms to her cheeks and gently urged her head away from his rigid member. He lamented only briefly as a cool breeze danced across his lathered cock. She slowly stood, kissing his chiseled abdomen and broad chest. She gripped his cheeks and kissed him deeply, her tongue dancing around his own, before he pushed her back against the tree. Biting her lip, she anticipated his every move as his lips and tongue danced down her slender neck, down to her pert, supple breasts, and around her stiff nipples. Her hands dug into his thick mane of hair as his tongue and teeth sent pleasure through her nipples, straight to her loins.

She whimpered when his mouth left her breasts and moved down her slender stomach to the small thatch of white hair above her slit. His breath tickled her thin patch, which made her pussy clench on itself in anticipation. Then her world turned to molten heat as his mouth clamped down on her waiting, moist vulva. A ragged, drawn out moan escaped her throat, and she lifted her leg up and planted her foot on his shoulder, her hands gripping handfuls of his hair as she jerked his face tight up against her sex.

Calafein's tongue slid up and down her slit rapidly, dancing about her clit and diving into her honeyed canal. Celise's breathing turned to shallow, short little gasps, and she felt his finger slide up her inner thigh, pressing against her virgin anus. It clenched and he didn't attempt to press the matter, but he did massage that tight little rosebud, and she groaned with delight at the sensation. She'd never let him put anything into her asshole, but she certainly enjoyed the sensation of the anal massage.

"Fuck me," she breathed. "Fuck me, Calafein."

He grinned against her cunny, but hesitated. The seasoned warrior wanted to hear his youthful priestess beg.

"Calafein!" she said, finally giving voice to her panting. "Fuck me, now, please!"

He slowly stood, her leg stretching up easily to stay on his shoulder, sliding his nectar-slick tongue up her stomach, between her breasts, and to her mouth. She sucked on his tongue, licked about his mouth, just to taste her own juice as her hands gripped his rigid cock. With one leg straight up and pressed close to her breast, she had an easy time of pulling his enflamed member into her bared, exposed cunny. Calafein put his forehead against hers, gazing deep into her eyes as he thrusted slowly, methodically into her. She gasped and squeaked cutely every time his cock spread open her canal and burrowed forcefully into her sex.

Celise reflected on her drow upbringing momentarily as her warrior fucked her with authority. Despite the hedonistic nature of the drow, and her experiences, she knew that she had not had her share of sex in her short life among the drow. Sure, she'd taken several lovers, but they had all been youthful, some not even students in the Academy yet. She'd never taken a lover as powerful, as skilled, or as much her senior as Calafein was. She'd never been taken by such a powerful cock, and felt her world split apart under its assault. And though several of her sisters had tried to get her to enjoy anything anal, she'd never attempted it, and now that her only lover was so thickly endowed, she feared the pain she knew it would bring.

Calafein brought her mind searing back to the present as his cock slammed into her cervix. She cried out, somewhat in pain, but also in pleasure. The drow warrior had certainly taught her to turn pain into pleasure since she'd known him. He reached down and lifted her other leg up to hook her knee over his elbow. Her already elevated leg slid down his arm and rested likewise. The position was more relaxed, but also left her canal more accessible for his deep, powerful strokes. And he knew it.

His thrusting grew more urgent, more insistent, and she knew what was coming by the look in his eyes. It was just that look that fueled her lust and enflamed her loins further. Molten heat spread from her loins, up her spine, to the base of her mind, where her mental floodgates broke. Commands of uncontrollable spasms issued from her brain to every muscle fiber in her body. Searing heat shot back down her spine and into her cunny. A surge of nectar overflowed her pussy and a torrent of the cloyed juice spattered against his invading cock, the neatly trimmed thatch of silvery hair above it, and his thighs. Her sex clenched down viciously as he gave her one final, forceful thrust, hilting his cock deep inside her much smaller canal. Stretched nearly to tearing, her body wrapped around him, clenching him tight, as her cunt squeezed around his iron-hard shaft.

Then his own molten seed burst forth. Overfilled with cock and nectar, the influx of Calafein's semen made her feel full, distended, until it, along with her own juices, found tiny paths out around his cock. Some of his seed flowed deep into her, and she could feel the foreign heat spreading throughout her deepest chambers even as hot, sticky juices began to seep slowly from their joining. Panting nigh uncontrollably, Calafein pulled her from the tree, slowly went to his knees, and gently laid her down on her back, his bulk firmly atop hers, but not in a way that made her feel smothered. His muscular mass, built from centuries of swordplay, felt like a thick blanket atop her, heavy but not oppressive, and delightful in the way the heat mingled with her own in the tender embrace.

His shaft remained embedded within until, very slowly and a long while later, it began to flag and slip out. She whimpered audibly, sucking in a deep breath when she felt the firm head slip free of her passage. Ever so slowly, her pussy had been shrinking as his member waned within her, but now that it had slipped out, it felt as though her tight canal had been cinched shut and she desperately wanted him back inside her. There was nothing for it, though, and she replaced that joined, filled sensation by wrapping herself even tighter around him than before, as though she could not quite get close enough to his naked body in the cool night.

Sleep took them shortly thereafter.

*****

Ambrusia sat naked with Cyra in a makeshift sauna room. At the tiefling's behest, the dragonborn warrior followed her down into a basement area of the Dreaming Dragon that was under construction. By Ambrusia's estimation, the tiefling seemed stressed, as if she was about to leap from her own skin, but she didn't make any assertion directly to Cyra. Instead, she quietly followed while the red-skinned woman led her to a partitioned room with heavy curtains and low-burning torches. Smiling at the scent of fire and smoke, Cyra pointed inside the room, indicating that Ambrusia should go first.

Smiling, her mouthful of sharp teeth gleaming at the tiefling, Ambrusia complied. The heat was intense and coupled with humidity that made Ambrusia tug at her simple white gown repeatedly to keep it from sticking to her smooth, scaly hide. In the center of the room was a large depression filled with water, and at the center was a podium with rocks at the top. Though the color of her scales were not red, fire burned in her veins, and with it an affinity for fire. And Ambrusia could sense intense heat within the column of that podium, as well as the heat inside the stones atop it. Ambrusia was not altogether familiar with the traditions of Everlunians, but she did know a sauna when she entered one. Turning to Cyra to get confirmation, her answer was given in the form of a naked, voluptuous tiefling, sitting on smoothed wooden planks atop the stone benches, sweat and moisture already beading on her skin. Delighted by the sight, Ambrusia shed her gown and tossed it out of the sauna, then sat across from the tiefling.

She admired the curves of the tiefling's body, but detected something she hadn't quite expected. "Your breasts are magical?" Ambrusia asked. Cyra opened one eye, only barely, and smiled with her pouty lips.

"No," she replied. "They are all real. I only use magic to augment their appearance. It keeps them firm, high on my chest. Men like it."

"Do they?" Ambrusia asked.

"I've had no complaints," the tiefling said, opening both eyes and staring at the big dragonborn warrior. "Why?"

"It would seem that men would instinctively enjoy something more naturally occurring," Ambrusia said. "Such augmentation is not unheard of in Tymanther, of course, but it is usually reserved for great warriors who might have lost a breast in a particularly vicious battle."

"Ouch."

"Indeed. Feel my breasts."

Cyra arched a brow, but was never one to refuse such an order. Her hands, skillful as they were, caressed and massaged Ambrusia's breasts, felt their suppleness and realized that, though they were not as firm or as perky as her own, were indeed favorable to her tastes. She finished her sampling by running her thumbnails over the rubbery nipples and around her areola, one of the few places that weren't completely covered by dragon scales. Ambrusia gave a cute gasp, and Cyra grinned like a fiend as she leaned back against the bench.

"Very well, let's have an experiment," Cyra said. She spoke a short couplet, her fingers tracing over her breasts throughout. Ambrusia watched as the perfect half-globes drooped just a little, her areolas prickling a little and her nipples hardening. The tiefling stood and presented her form to the dragonborn, and Ambrusia felt herself salivating both in her mouth, and betwixt her thighs.

Cyra's breasts hadn't changed as much as she'd anticipated, but it was a noticeable change. The globes now hung a little lower on her chest, a more natural look, and a more pleasing look to the dragonborn. Her hands reached out to the tiefling, squeezing and rubbing the soft breasts. The firmness was still there, but they were softer, more supple than before, and thus more pleasing to her touch. Cyra moaned with surprise, putting her hands on Ambrusia's face.

"It seems that the magic had inhibited the tactile senses of my breasts," Cyra said breathlessly. "By the Hells, Ambrusia, don't stop what you're doing."

Ambrusia smirked at the tiefling and continued fondling her generous breasts. They weren't as big as her own, but then again, dragonborn were not well known for their small stature. Cyra seemed to notice this again and reached out to grip the thick, heavy orbs just as Ambrusia ran her thumb over Cyra's brownish-red nipples.

"Lura says delightful things about you," Cyra breathed just as Ambrusia sat back down, pulling the tiefling's breasts to her face. Grinning, her tongue snaked out from her mouth and left long, wet spirals around and upon Cyra's nipples. "I see she was not exaggerating," the tiefling moaned, then threw her head back and exhaled with excitement.

Ambrusia elected not to break her building momentum by offering a response. Instead, she slid her smooth-scaled hand down Cyra's taut abdomen to the nexus of the tiefling's magmatic thighs. Her fingers pressed against Cyra's molten sex, pearly hot nectar clinging to her smooth fingers. Cyra leaned back against the pedestal in the middle of the sauna, her hands grasping the heated rocks and reveling in the sensation they burned into her palms. Her thighs spread wide for the dragonborn, eagerly awaiting Ambrusia's amazing tongue.

Ambrusia knew the gesture for what it was. Grinning, she knelt and inhaled Cyra's exotic aroma. It was heady and intoxicating, and the dragonborn craved the hot snatch before her. Her mouth latched onto Cyra's sex, sucking hard on the tiefling's clit immediately, her tongue running frantic circles around the hard little nub. But Cyra wanted something else, and Ambrusia knew it, for she, too, wanted her tongue deep in the tiefling trollop's fuckhole.

With little prodding from the tiefling, Ambrusia separated herself from the spicy, honeyed clit, and pressed her tongue into the entrance of Cyra's canal. Cyra braced herself, her hands gripping the rim of the stones' pedestal. Slowly, she felt the muscle barely penetrating her canal begin to expand and lengthen. Cyra whimpered in anticipation for the full extent of Ambrusia's tongue, but did little more, even though her legs were already beginning to quiver. Her tongue was hot, and Cyra could feel the every little bump and detail on the hot muscle as it slithered deeper inside her, expanding as it delved deeper in.

Her fuckhole stretched, the sensation delightful and forcing a small moan of pleasure from Cyra. Finally, the tongue stopped growing inside her and she felt it stretching her entire canal even as the tip prodded close to her cervix. It began undulating, stroking her canal and leaving nothing untouched. Ambrusia's tongue trilled and wiggled, plunged in and out, twisted and caressed every part of Cyra's burning cunt, and before she knew what hit her, an orgasm shook her body relentlessly. Her toes curled, digging against the stone floor, and her legs shook violently around Ambrusia's face. When it all finally subsided, the tiefling began to whimper, both at the lack of response from her body, and the slowly retreating tongue.

Ambrusia stood before her, pearly nectar staining her cheeks and face and chest, a grin spread wide at Cyra's expense. When the tiefling finally regained control of her senses, she glared at the dragonborn. "That is a devilish tongue," she said, grinning. "But I have something for you, as well."

"Oh?" Ambrusia responded, suddenly aware of a tingling need in her breasts, pussy, and ass.

"Bend over, put your hands on the bench," Cyra said, her tone suddenly commanding, and Ambrusia had complied before she'd registered the movement. Cyra whispered something, something laced with power, and Ambrusia thought she heard the tiefling's voice gain a second, lower tone to accompany the higher, normal one.

She looked over her shoulder in time to see a long black phallus, attached to a harness that strapped onto the tiefling's shapely hips, materialize out of thin air. Grinning, she bit her lower lip and put her eyes on the bench before her. "Just relax and enjoy," Cyra said, and Ambrusia was certain that she was speaking with a double-tone. Before she could question it, though, the fat head of the impromptu cock pressed against her sopping wet cunny.

Then, without warning, the phallus, bigger than it had looked, plunged deep into Ambrusia's pussy. It stretched her wide, wider than she had thought it would, and she cried out in shock, pleasure, pain, and delight. The dragonborn pushed her hips back against Cyra, as if begging her to simply pound mercilessly into her. Grinning like the half-fiend she was, Cyra complied.

The tiefling thrusted her hips powerfully against the much taller, much thicker dragonborn. Ambrusia, over six feet of muscle and womanly curves, grunted and thrust her ass back into the tiefling. Cyra gripped Ambrusia's hips for leverage and pummeled against the warrior's cervix, driving Ambrusia into chaotic ecstasy. Firm muscle flexed and rippled, breasts and ass cheeks bounced and wriggled under the assault, and through it all, Cyra and Ambrusia grunted like rutting animals.

It was an amazing sensation, Ambrusia thought through the haze of passion clouding her mind. To be so dominated and internally pulverized by the powerful tiefling drove her wild with glee and sent molten heat from her cunny up her spine. The big black dick pushed in and out of her faster and faster, grunting from both women accompanying it's wet squelching noises as it drove home repeatedly, roughly. She longed for that big cock in her asshole, but before either of them could acquiesce that desire, the big fake meat pulsed once, twice, then shot forth hot liquid into Ambrusia's womb.

Warmth and soothing energy spread throughout Ambrusia's body as the liquid heat filled her womb and vaginal canal. It leaked out, so copious was the emission, and splattered into a small puddle on the ground. Ambrusia's mind spun and her world melted. Her knees weakened and she found herself sitting on the bench without feeling the conjured cock leaving her sex. She looked at Cyra, who had a far off expression on her face and breathed shallowly. Her knees weakened as well and she spun to lay across Ambrusia's lap. The dragonborn traced her fingers over Cyra's naturally plump breasts, resting easily on her chest and spilling off the tiefling's body to press against Ambrusia's muscular abdomen. Both women fell asleep in the sauna.