Twelve Days Of Hrive Isia Ch 02

On the third day of Hrive 'Isia

The sound of laughter, gaiety, and joy greeted Gilraen as she made her way through the village. Her thoughts were her own. She wove her way around couples, and families, as well as various merchants who tried to catch her eye. Gilraen had no reason to speak with any of them, her goal was not to strengthen friendships, or empty her father's coffers. She sought knowledge, knowledge that only one woman in the village could give her -- for a price. The weight of Gilraen's pursed slapped against her hip. Mistress Ireth would be paid handsomely for her silence.

The night before Gilraen had lain in bed, her body aroused from Turgon's attentions, her mind full of hostility from his words. The more she lay thinking about the way his fingers skated across her skin, and the tender kisses he'd trailed along her throat, the more she came to realize that her inexperience at seduction would cause her more harm than good. Her quest to begin looking for her own cluster of male admirers would fail if she did not learn how to properly seduce her intended targets. The idea of reaching out to Ireth had at first disgusted her, but the longer she mused, the more she convinced herself it was her only answer.

Mistress Ireth's cottage was set further back from the rest of the village. The path to her doorstep was worn, the rocks smooth from the countless many that had traveled across them. Gilraen bit her lip, looked around, caught a few villagers' eyes and glared back at them. Each one quickly turned away, some chuckling, others whispering to their companions and others scurrying away as if they had more important things to do than to worry about their Princess.

The young virgin woman shook her hair, squared her shoulders and lifted her fist to rap heavily on the door. A low curse and a high pitched giggle greeted Gilraen. Her cheeks grew flush; she thought of turning away, running back to the castle and hiding herself within the walls of her room. Seconds before her cowardly self gave in, the door to the cottage opened. Gilraen's cheeks grew a brighter shade of pink. Mistress Ireth stood before her, the opening of her dress had been pulled apart, two large breasts hung low, and gently swayed as the whore leaned against the door. It took the woman only a moment to realize who her guest was.

Gilraen watched with little satisfaction as Ireth hurried to cover herself. "Princess Gilraen," Ireth gasped, stepped back, and curtsied. Gilraen walked in, glanced around the room, and paused when her eyes rested on the man who had cursed at her intrusion.

"Father Huro?"

The old priest stuttered, as he reached down to grab his pants. "Uh -- Princess, I -- uh -- is something wrong?" Huro scurried to put on his shirt, tie his slacks, and grab his shoes. "I -- uh -- I was just..." Silence hung in the air. Gilraen frowned. Huro's shoulders grew slack and a deep sigh escaped his lungs. "I'm sorry. I shall pack my belongings and..."

"No!" Ireth cried. She closed the door behind the Princess and hurried to the Priest's side. "You should not have to leave. I will go. This is your home more than mine and..."

"Enough," Gilraen shouted, "I've not said one word since walking over the threshold. "Father Huro, please do not let this trouble you," her hand swept toward the rumpled bed. "I do not attempt to know the desires of a man and cannot find fault in something I don't understand."

Huro swallowed the lump in his throat, and looked questionably at Ireth. "Why are you here? And who told you where to find me?" he asked Gilraen.

This time it was the Princess's turn to blush. "I was not looking for you," she turned away; "I was looking for Mistress Ireth."

"Me?"

Huro stepped away, curious as to what the Princess needed from the village whore. "Yes, Mistress, I am curious -- I want to..." Gilraen took a deep calming breath, glanced at the Priest and then back to the floor. "I wish to please a man in bed so I have come seeking advice on how to properly seduce him, and then bed him."

Huro choked on the air in his lungs, bringing Gilraen's face to a brighter red. "Princess, surely you don't wish to seek advice from Ireth," he gasped.

Ireth turned to the Priest, her hands rested on her hips. "And why wouldn't she? Can you think of another who could better instruct our Lady?"

"Well, no -- but -- but -- you can't, she's the Princess and --"

"Enough!" Gilraen shouted again. She detached the bag of coins from her waist and handed them to Ireth. "Here, for your silence."

A slim hand, aged from time reached out and took the offering, noted the weight and grinned. "Your Highness, it will be a pleasure instructing you. What questions do you seek?"

Huro grumbled loudly, "Well, I will not be witness to this, it's disgraceful and..."

"Father Huro," Gilraen emphasized the man's profession, "please remain; you are someone I trust and perhaps you will have knowledge that Ireth doesn't. You are a man after all and it is obvious you enjoy the bedding ritual."

"But I can't -- I won't -- no. I shall take my leave and -"

"It is an order," Gilraen stated, her tone of voice left little room for disobedience. "Now, Mistress Ireth, please tell me the first step of seduction." The Princess of Lúinwë sat down on a nearby chair and looked intently up at the whore before her, and the Priest to her left.

A minute seemed to tick by as the three occupants waiting for something to happen. Gilraen said nothing more; instead just lifting a brow to Ireth, indicating her patience was waning. Ireth dropped the bag of coins on the table, and walked over to Huro. "Please sit down, Father." When Huro moved to take possession of another chair, Ireth stopped him, "no, on the bed." His brows shot up, as did Gilraen's.

"I am sure our young Princess will only be brave enough to come to me once, and so I must be thorough in my teaching. Princess, I ask only that you listen and remain in your seat. This will be awkward for all of us, but if you truly wish to please a man in bed, it is not by dining room flirtations or frolicking on the dance floor that will gain his favor, it is pleasuring him -- and if you are fortunate, he will pleasure you back."

Gilraen said nothing. Her pulse raced as her mind worked to understand what Ireth had in mind. She watched as the experienced woman, pushed Huro back. His knees buckled and his hands gripped the edge of the bed. "This is not right," he muttered; his gaze flew back and forth between the two women, both beautiful in their own way.

"It is what it is," Ireth purred. Her hand moved to caress Huro's wrinkled cheeks. Her nails scrapped gently across his unshaven beard. "A clean face, free of hair is delicious, but if you have a chance to feel the scratch of whiskers against your breasts, neck, and pussy..." Ireth moaned softly, "that is a treat too."

Gilraen trembled slightly. Her eyes blinked away the heady evidence of growing excitement. Her breath quickened when Ireth began to undress herself. Soon the woman stood before the Priest naked. Her full breasts were heavy from age, but still looked smooth and clean of blemishes and marks. Gilraen questioned the rumors of Ireth's diseased body. She watched as Ireth slipped onto the bed, settled behind Huro, rested on her knees and draped her arms around the man's shoulders. Her boobs pushed into his back. Her fingers teased the strings of his shirt; eventually loosening them enough so she could slide her hands against the warm flesh. "Does your Prince have hair on his chest?" she asked the Princess, not really expecting an answer. "If he does, than run your fingers through it make him remember that there is not a hair on his body you will leave untouched. While you explore him, be sure to mark him in other ways. A kiss, here," she pressed her lips to Huro's neck, "here," she kissed his ear, "and here," she tilted his head back and kissed his mouth. Her tongue slid in and merged with his.

The Princess watched. Her body shivered; she dismissed the reflex blaming the chilled winter air. Ireth's hands slid over Huro's skin, the shirt slowly become more and more loose. Eventually Huro shrugged out of it. Gilraen made little notice of his silent acceptance of the circumstances he was in; instead she allowed herself the luxury of looking at a man's body.

Huro's chest was not as firm as the warriors of her father's house. Ireth's fingers moved across the white hairs that lay scattered on the man's flesh. His muscles were not lean, but showed promise of strength in their youth. His stomach was not overly huge, but did show signs of eating with gusto. Gilraen glanced lower, curious as to what the rest of her Priest looked like.

Ireth chuckled; the laughter snapped the Princess's attentions back to the whore and her actions. She blushed, having been caught in her assessment of the holy man. A deep breath, raised shoulders, and a straightened back told Ireth to continue. The whore smirked. "Take note of what your lover likes. Does he shy away from tender kisses," she placed small delicate ones across Huro's shoulders, "or does he like them to be more of a vigorous nature." Huro winced, and then moaned softly when Ireth sealed a kiss with a small nip of her teeth. Gilraen noted the man's change in demeanor. Would Turgon want her to bite him? The idea, surprisingly held appeal to the virgin's thoughts.

"Don't forget these bits on a man," Ireth whispered, calling attention back to her and her partner. Long slim fingers pinched each one of Huro's nipples. He grunted low, the sound one of obvious approval. Ireth looked at the Princess as she twisted both of the hard beads, and suckled on Huro's neck. Her breasts continued to be pressed into the bare flesh of her lover. She moaned softly, before releasing her willing victim. "Our Priest -- he does enjoy a little kick in his fuckin'."

Gilraen blushed at the foul word.

"Yes, Your Highness, even language unfit for a royal can bring moisture to ones thighs, or hardness to a cock." Ireth reached down and stroked Huro's erection. Her lips continued to assault his skin. Gilraen watched with growing frustration. Her eyes were glued to Ireth's hand and she desperately wanted to see what the whore stroked. She licked her lips in anticipation.

Huro groaned. He pulled Ireth's hand away, undid his pants and allowed his cock to leap free. A gasp of surprise escaped Gilraen's parted lips. She stared at the man's penis. Her fingers curled into a tight fist. "Oh my," she whispered.

Ireth purred against her lover's neck. "Yes, our Priest is blessed with an awesome cock." Ireth played with the head. "But don't become over excited. I cannot promise your husband will be so greatly endowed. Some men are smaller than our lovely plaything, others are larger..."

"Not much," Hugo muttered.

Ireth laughed, "No my dear not much."

Gilraen inched closer off her seat. "What is that?" she asked.

Ireth winked, ran her finger across the clear liquid that had spilled free of Huro's dick. "That is a sure sign you have aroused your lover. Yes, his hardness is too, but this, this delicious nectar," Ireth licked her finger clean, "this is the first taste of a surprise more rewarding than many realize."

Huro groaned. "I think we've shown her enough," he hissed, yet made no movement to show he was drawing an end to their arrangement.

"No, no you haven't," Gilraen whispered.

Ireth winked at the woman, wrapped her hand around Huro's shaft and began to pump it up and down. Her eyes remained fixed on the Princess; her lips trailed kisses and nips along her lover's shoulders. A grunt of encouragement fell from the Priest's mouth. Ireth slipped from the bed, again holding Gilraen's attention. "His cock Princess -- deep inside there is a gift for you, it is eager to come out, it wants nothing more than to slide down your throat and settle into your belly. There will be times when you cannot take his cock into your pussy, and so during those times you should ease your man's suffering with your mouth."

Huro cursed and Gilraen watched as Ireth slid to her knees. "You can undress your partner, or wait for him to undress himself." Huro wasted no time in removing his clothing; he stood before his Princess and his whore fully engorged. Gilraen's lips were dry; her tongue darted out to moisten the soft pink petals. Her sex tightened in curiosity.

"If you were not our Princess, I would let you ease his suffering with me," Ireth whispered, before capturing the head of Huro's cock between her lips. Both the Priest and the Princess gasped. The sound however was muffled by the humming from Ireth's throat.

The show continued for Gilraen. She watched Ireth lift off Huro's cock head, then slide back over it. Her tongue darted out, licked the tip, played with the small hole and caressed the veins that were engorged with desire. Gilraen's lungs burned as she held her breath, eager to see what gift Ireth would coax from her lover.

Ireth moved her hands, cupped Huro's balls and massaged the twin spheres. She popped off the man's stiff tool, lapped at his tender sack and smiled over to the Princess. "These jewels you must cherish, for hidden behind the flesh will be the gift we seek. The juices that spring out will not only feed your belly, coat your throat, and cover your flesh, but will be what gives life to your womb. You must be kind, and gentle, but again some men like a little bit of pain applied here." Ireth squeezed one of Huro's balls, and then winced when his fingers pulled at her hair. She laughed hardheartedly, released the assaulted appendage and grinned. "He is not one of those men." Her mouth moved to cover the bruised marble, blanketing it in a warm bath of tongue, lips, and suckling motions. Soon Huro's hand was petting her, and his voice cooed his enjoyment.

Gilraen shifted nervously in her seat. Thoughts of Turgon pushing her head into his crotch, of his manhood sliding between her lips, and her tongue wrapping around him like a small snake, made her body sweat. A tingling sensation, between her thighs, seemed to beckon her toward some hidden goal. Images of her on her knees, suckling a man's shaft, rolling his precious jewels between her fingers brought a hiss of pleasure from her lips.

She glanced at Ireth and noted the woman was paying little attention to the Princess, too lost in pleasuring the Priest. Gilraen released the tight hold she had on her gown. Her fingers slipped over to her chest; she felt the hard aroused state of her right nipple. She pinched it, welcomed the pain, and wondered if a lesson where Huro pleased Ireth would be in order. What pain could a man give to a woman that would bring pleasure?

"Princess -- Princess..."

Gilraen's hand dropped; she cleared her throat and looked at the whore.

"He's going to cum Your Highness. Watch," Ireth demanded.

A virgin's gaze locked onto Huro's cock. It glistened from Ireth's saliva. Her hand pumped the swollen shaft with a speed unfathomable to Gilraen's imagination. A blur of activity seemed to erupt all at once. A stream of white liquid exploded from the slit in the Priest's cock. It splattered across Ireth and onto Huro's stomach. Just as quickly Ireth moved to cover the erupting dick. Gilraen watched as Huro pushed her into his crotch; he used both hands to hold her there as he pumped his way in and out of her. He controlled her head, cursing at her to take everything. Gilraen was shocked, amazed, and awed by the power in the man's words. He sounded as frightening in his demands to Ireth as he did condemning her people from the lectern.

When Ireth was allowed freedom from Huro's thrusting, she popped up and pushed him to his back. "His cock," her words came out breathless, "his cock can be hard again. Huro is a vigorous lover. With little effort," experienced fingers stroked the half mast shaft, "he will be up and ready again." Ireth wiped cum from her face, "and then Princess, then I will show you how to fuck a man."

Gilraen's body could take no more. She rose from her seat and hurried from the cottage. The image of her Priest, and the whore would be forever locked away, a private secret she would share with no one. Her steps carried her far away from the cottage and further from the village. Eventually her imagination forced her to stop and seek refuge. Taking note of her surroundings Gilraen realized that she'd made her way to a meadow where several young people of Lúinwë often spent the summer months fishing, swimming and enjoying the warm air. This day though, it was cool and the promise of a hard storm loomed in the air. It was only fitting, the winter season was upon them and the first real snowfall had not yet occurred.

Gilraen shivered slightly. She walked once around the pond, welcoming the cool air, allowing it to caress her skin, to tone down the brightness of her cheeks. The images of what had transpired earlier still weighed heavy on her mind; her breath would catch occasionally as she dared to imagine her and Turgon in such a heated exchange. During all her musings she never thought of another man in her fantasies. A frown formed, her forehead furrowed in annoyance. "It is only because no other man has been as close to me, as intimate with me. I am sure, if I were to lay my hands upon Círdan than I could imagine my fingers on his skin and my mouth on his..." she stopped talking aloud and cleared her head.

"So you'd have me take the life of my best friend, and most loyal soldier?"

Gilraen spun around. Her jaw dropped, her eyes widened. "Lord Celebrindal, I wasn't aware of you being outside the castle walls."

Turgon moved casually toward the Princess. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "One of my men hurried back to me when they noted whose home you had opted to visit."

Her face grew red, a mixture of anger and embarrassment mingled together. "You are having me followed?" She stepped closer to him, temporarily forgetting the feelings he'd invoked the night before. "What rights have you to send your lackeys trailing after me?"

The man chuckled softly, allowed the Princess to close the distance between them and waited while her tirade of emotions simmered to a lesser boil. "Your Highness, you are my betrothed, soon to be my wife, in just nine short days. Your mother has shown a lack of care and concern toward your well being, I will not however be so negligent, not to mention your threat last night to bed every man you come across --."

"I said no such thing! I simply stated that I would bed whomever I pleased and -."

"- and that just so happens to be Círdan?" Turgon finished for her. "I will kill him where he stands if he was to bed you, I'll not share you with another." Turgon lifted his hand to caress her face. His fingers were gloved, but the heat of his touch still seemed to singe Gilraen.

"Yet, again you speak as if it is merely a formality. My being loyal and your sticking your wick into whatever hole presents itself."

"Such language," his hand trailed across her lips, "is that something the whore taught you. How to speak like a slut to your lover? What other things did you learn from Mistress Ireth?"

Gilraen's blush was a deep crimson; she stepped back and turned to leave. Her exit was cut short by the firm grasp of her betrothed's hand on her arm. He turned her, pulling her hard against him. His mouth captured hers, and his tongue dove forcefully between her chilled lips, forcing them to open to his ministrations. Gilraen whimpered, unaware of the sound her throat made as she leaned further into his kiss. He tilted her head, eased on up on his assault and waited for her to relax. When he sensed her desire to give him free will, Turgon slowly began to stroke the sides of her tongue with his, encouraging her to follow his lead. Their muscles moved together, each one touching and tasting the other as if they had hours to burn and the cold air was nothing more than a comfort to their heated skin.