As he watched her move, he breathed slowly. She brought the boken up, in through his nose, and slashed to the left, and out through his mouth. Her feet moved across the floor of the dojo like so many butterflies over a field. As he rose from his kneeling position he fought to control his heartbeat. She spun on the ball of her foot and blocked his sudden attack. She looked up at him quizzically and he simply smiled in return, stepping back for another attack. They sparred for an hour, merely watching each other. When they were both glistening with sweat and nearly breathless, Tsukune cleared his throat in the doorway.
'How long have you been watching?' demanded Moira, sliding the wooden blade into her belt. Tsukune tilted his head raising one eyebrow. His height and stalky build standing out among those others, much shorter and thinner, whom were using the dojo to practice.
'If you did not notice, than what does it matter?' he asked. 'If you are both finished, I have a bath warmed for you.' Musashi nodded stepping up behind Moira, and placed his hand on the small of her back. As she stepped ahead, Musashi paused in the doorway to share a gentle touch with Tsukune who wrinkled his nose. 'You both smell terrible. Go to the bath, I will rejoin with you shortly.' He reached out and brushed a piece of hair out of his mate's face before departing.
Moira watched this exchange with fondness. Watching them speak volumes to each other using only their eyes always astonished her. The two men had been boys together in this dojo and grew up sharing everything. Though Musashi was high born and Tsukune was only his vassal, they were as brothers in all things. She thought back to the day they found her as she and Musashi walked to the bath house.
She was on a ship with her mother and father, who was the captain, and they were on their way back to Europe. She and her mother had traveled overland to arrive at the territory where her father was stationed but they were fraught with disaster at every junction so her mother demanded to make the return voyage with her husband and as he doted on her as much as he could, he relented despite the reprimand he could receive. Unfortunately, the sea held no more luck for them and a typhoon sent them far off course and shattered their vessel on a shallow reef. Moira remembered choking on the strangely warm ocean water and struggling to stay above the roiling surface. The rain beating down and the waves tossing her violently, she decided to lay her life in the hands of god and gave up her struggle.
When she awoke she was rocking as if on horseback. She was warm and dry but her head hurt tremendously. When she heard voices speaking a language she had never heard, she slowly opened her eyes. She was being held gently by a man who seemed from the Far East. He looked down at her and smiled saying something softly. She decided he was an angel and she was safe so she went back to sleep.
In the years that followed she learned the language, and the customs. She also learned the traditions of the man who was her master, becoming proficient in all weapons, empty handed combat, and political strategy. Yumi, the women who seemed as a mother to all of the students at the dojo, was thrilled to have a 'daughter' and taught her calligraphy, and the proper way to prepare tea and sake for her master and other traditional womanly things such as cooking, cleaning and keeping house. Moira thrived in her new life, it almost was heaven on earth. The only drawback to her new life was unfortunately for her, being a foreigner was a crime punishable by public execution so she was forced to stay secreted away on her master's estate.
'Moira,' her master's voice pulled her out of her reverie. 'Is everything alright?' She smiled away his concern and nodded, kneeling to slide open the entry to the bathhouse. Once inside they slipped of their wooden shoes and left them in the entryway. She moved over to the raised baths and pulled the cover off of one to test the temperature finding it hot and steaming, exactly what her aching muscles needed. She scooped a bucket out and placed it next to the stool Musashi had pulled out, before replacing the lid.
'Thank you for sparing with me today Master,' she said. 'Every time we cross blades I learn a new lesson.' She reached out and worked the knot of her master's obi as she spoke. He hummed in acknowledgement watching her bright red hair fall over her green eyes, obscuring her vision. She made as if to move it but he was faster, catching the lock in his fingers for a moment before he pulled it behind her ear. She glanced up to find him gazing at her intently. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized his look. It was the same way she watched him whenever she thought he wouldn't notice, full of deep longing. She slid her hands underneath his kimono and over his shoulders letting the simple garment fall to the floor in a pile, this simple contact much more intimate than anything they had shared before. He reached out and pulled her close. As he worked on her obi she closed her eyes, laid her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. It was steadily picking up pace and she knew hers would soon match its rhythm. He worked the wide band loose and slipped it down over her hips.
Moira stood before him with her kimono hanging open and watched Musashi look her up and down, taking in the sight of her flat hard stomach and the dark red hair of her most secret of places. He made a deep noise in the back of his throat and reached out to her, but she stepped back dancing out of his reach. Her kimono opened a bit wider with the movement and treated him to the view one beautiful breast. He growled then clenching his fist. She smiled nervously gesturing to the stool. 'The water will cool if we dally too much.' He closed his eyes and with what seemed to be extreme control, sat down on the stool. She picked up the simple soap and sponge and began to scrub her master's body. He made small sounds of pleasure and as she watched, his member began to grow in gratitude. Finishing her work she picked up the bucket and poured it over his head and watched it run down through his long black hair and over strong lean muscles. He was tall for the men of his race, and likely much more endowed. While his eyes were still closed she silently slipped off her kimono and knelt before him, taking him gently in hand. He started at the unexpected touch and she giggled.
Having learned everything Yumi could teach with words, Moira put her knowledge to the test giving his penis soft kisses first on the base and working her way to the tip, enjoying the heat and softness of him on her cheek as she moved. She then worked her tongue in small circles, gently licking before taking the head tenderly in her mouth. 'Treat his manhood with the honor and respect you would feel as if were praying to his spirit in the afterlife.' She remembered the old woman's words as she took him deeper into her mouth sucking gently in little pulses. Musashi was totally unable to control the sounds he made as she worked him slowly, up and down, up and down, increasing the pressure the deeper she went. As a young woman of great discipline, it was only a few long moments of pleasuring work before his entire member was inside her warm mouth and she was kissing his pelvis smelling his soft clean pubic hair. He lost himself in her completely placing his hands urgently on the back of her head, pressing himself deeper into her throat groaning with pleasure. She closed her eyes and relaxed, taking her pleasure in his, letting a small moan vibrate around his rod. He gasped and pushed further, before she pressed her hands on his thighs needing to breathe.
Musashi released her and she sat back, sucking in air. Moira's nipples were erect on her perfect round breasts. He leaned forward off of his stool and kissed her deeply, tracing her tongue with his, all the while grasping breast which over filled his hand. With his other free hand he explored her body for the first time. Having watched her grow and turn into a woman he was still slightly shocked at her naked body, he never expected her to be so voluptuous, having only seen her in many layers of kimono or hakama. As he leaned into her she stood forward on her knees and he wrapped both of his hands around her narrow waist for a moment before sliding them down her arching back and firmly grasping her soft rump. He lifted her by her rear and placed her on the stool. He moved his kiss down her neck, stopping to nip along her neck with his teeth. He traced her collar bone with his tongue, tasting the salt from the sweat on her still unwashed body. Her breath quickened as his warm soft lips made their way across her to breasts. He took long moments suckling and teasing those wonderful mounds, working in slow circles around her areola and flicking her nipples with his tongue. When she thought she was going to faint from ecstasy, he stood to retrieve the soap still very much erect. When he returned he washed her thoroughly using only his strong hands to massage her skin. He rinsed her with a bucket of water from the bath, and as he was about to reach down for her she took him in her mouth again.
This time he reached down and grasped her now slippery wet breasts, gently squeezing and twisting her nipples, and let her do as she liked. Moira enjoyed immensely the involuntary sounds he would make and looking up to find his head rolling back on his shoulders. She held the base of his throbbing shaft and gently massaged while she sucked him in, and let him slide out all the while moving her tongue around the head. Suddenly she tasted a salty sweet droplet of his pleasure and her mouth went mad for it. Musashi moaned loudly as her tempo increased almost into urgency. Then she took in all of him and he thought it was almost as if she meant to swallow him entirely. The muscles in her mouth were acting in ways he never thought possible. She came up for air, licking and kissing softly as she caught her breath. And then she took him again, and again until she got her wish feeling his hot seed erupt, filling her mouth. She drank him in feverishly until he relaxed helplessly, tugging on her arms.
Moira stood and Musashi lifted her mouth to his, amazed that she still tasted only of herself. He lifted her by her rump again and she wrapped her firm thighs around his waist feeling his member brushing against her netherest of regions. She was suddenly aware of how warm her labia were and how ravenous her lust could really be. He carried her over to the tubs and placed her on top of the warm wooden lid. He stepped away and looked her over again. Her wet red hair was darker and curling atop her heaving breasts. Those wonderful pink nipples, he thought and reached out to touch one. She shuddered and moaned, putting her eager hands behind her and leaning back. His touch moved south, and she began to shake, breathing heavily.
