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.
