Master Marrat had made her show him the place where she had dallied with the Coghlander. He examined the alley closely, then began etching small magical symbols about the place, on stones and into wood.
"What are you doing?" asked Crissa, watching with interest.
He looked back at her. "Making this a safe place for you," replied Marrat.
Crissa rolled her eyes. "Great, so you'll put wards everywhere I have a liaison?"
The old wizard shook his head. "No, just the places where you are likely to have another."
She looked about. "You really think I intended to come down here?"
Marrat nodded. "Yes. The way you described the events, you did choose this alley, at least some part of you did," he explained.
The apprentice gave a great sigh. "Okay," she conceded. She sat upon the same crate she had sat upon before. Faintly, she could hear her cries of passion as the Coghlander rammed his thick pole into her on the barrel and she felt herself growing wet again. "Master Marrat, I hate this."
He nodded. "Until you can control yourself, I imagine you will," he replied. He turned his wrinkled face to her. "Give yourself time, girl, and remember, you're young, you are supposed to be enjoying dalliances and such now."
"I know," said Crissa, unconvincingly. "But, I hate hurting Wenn."
Marrat nodded. "I know you do, dear, and he knows you don't like it, either, and that is why he will, ultimately, forgive you."
This memory flowed through her mind briefly as she laid herself over the barrel, with Charel looming behind her and between her long, slim thighs. The memory faded quickly as he plunged his cock into her tight opening. He moaned at the warm sensation of her welcoming entrance and she moaned acceptance of him and at the wash of lust and happiness that washed over her.
The barrel creaked in protest again, rocking as he thrust into her. She was lying upon her belly this time, and he took her from behind. Not her rear entrance, but that debauched thought had entered her mind as he pushed into her. Wenn, alone, had taken her thus, entering her tighter and more forbidden hole. Crissa wondered how long that would be the case.
Charel was her sixth partner since coming to Norboro, four months ago, not including Wenn. They had all been brief affairs, no more than a few nights, and more often, one. She felt herself growing close to her climax, and began to concentrate in earnest upon the sex she was taking part in now, though it was not exceptional.
Charel was a competent lover, make no mistake, but he was not an incredible one. As he drove into her, she started eagerly meeting his thrusts and gripped his forearms for leverage. "Harder," she commanded Charel
He did his best, she knew, and redoubled his efforts. Soon she cried out as the pleasure overtook her, his own orgasm feeding hers to fullness. There was one distinct advantage to being a empath, she decided, if she was only near to orgasm, sensing her partner's climax almost invariably finished hers, as well.
He lay upon her for a long moment, and she enjoyed the feeling of being lain upon, the secure and protective weight upon her back. His cock still twitched within her. She quietly hoped he would swell for another erection and take her again.
This did not happen, though, his organ continued to soften and finally slipped from her tight cunt. Charel helped her to stand and pulled up his pants. "Wow, I didn't expect that," he said. She felt a wave of smug self-assuredness wash over her from him.
He thinks he is just that good, does he
?
Crissa nodded. "I never beat around the bush when I want a man to bed me," she said. "Never have before, and never will in the future."
This comment, while answering his statement, also dismantled some of that self regard he was building about himself like a bastion wall. There was still a firm foundation, though. "It's also very private," she added conversationally as she adjusted her skirt and half top. "I screamed bloody murder with the last man, for hours, and no one even came to see what was going on."
There goes the last course of base stones
, she thought and kissed him.
No, good sir, you were good, but not the best, don't get illusions in your head and I may let you go for another ride
.
He looked a bit disconcerted with her frank discussion of past lovers, but quickly recovered. "Well, it was certainly pleasurable for me, thank you for accepting me to you," said Charel.
Much better
, thought Crissa,
a bit of humility goes a long way
. She pressed her body to him and kissed him passionately. "Next time, then?" she asked and promised in three words. "Do you frequent that tavern?"
"Yes," he replied, "most nights for at least one beer."
She took his arm and started walking him out of the alley. "Then I shall know where to find you, hmm?" said Crissa.
They walked through town by the foggy and dull illumination of oil lamps located at the intersections of main streets. He stopped before Marrat's home, having escorted her to the house. "Thank you again, for a grand evening, Crissa."
Crissa smiled broadly. "Thank you for the same, Charel, it was very pleasant." With that, she turned and entered the house.
-
"By the One, Wenn," Shanelle said as she sat up, smiling. "If a kiss can cause me to release thus, then imagin. . . ."
She interrupted herself at what she was about to say.
"I have given it thought," said Wenn. "And when I find a young woman willing to help me learn more of that, I will then know and let you know."
She turned her nearly black eyes to him. "In a way, we've made love already," said Shanelle. "I mean, you've made me climax, three times."
Wenn nodded and kept still his tongue.
"Would you think me forward if I suggested we try your experiment?" she asked.
"Not at all," replied Wenn. "I would consider it a great honor to have such a beautiful test subject."
Shanelle giggled. "Then come," she said, rising from the bench and taking his hand. She pulled him down the dock and up the stairs back to the cobbled streets of Norboro.
He soon found himself inside a small home, inside the foyer and moving up the stairs to the second floor. "Where are we?" asked Wenn.
Shanelle said, "My employer's wife's home. They normally rent it out, but they are between tenants."
As the couple slipped into the bedroom, he noted that the room was furnished. "Must be expensive to rent," he commented.
She smiled. "It is," they are letting me stay here until new tenants move in, so that there is someone keeping an eye on the place. "I hope they never find suitable renters."
They embraced and kissed for a long moment. "Are you going to cast the spell again?" she asked, smiling.
"Once we've begun, else we may never get that far," replied Wenn, truthfully. He moved his hands over the bare sides and back of the elven dress she wore and she moaned slightly as his hands rubbed the soft, smooth skin. At the center of her back was the knot that held the entire dress on. He pulled one of the ears and it came undone with no problems.
Shanelle giggled as she stepped back and the dress fell from her body. Only a loincloth decorated her now, tied about her waist with a leather thong. She watched him kick off his boots, and then stepped in to help him take off his shirt and pants. She glanced down at his swelling rod. "I am a lucky girl," she said, smiling.
He untied her loincloth and found her to be a follower of elven fashion overall, for she had shaved her pubic hair off, and expertly so. When he ran his hand over her mound as he suckled on one of her breasts, he could not even feel stubble.
She groaned as he slid two fingers into her sopping wet slit. She produced far more lubricant than Crissa, he found, and saw that her thighs, even, glistened with the stuff. Or might that be an aftereffect of the spell from earlier?
The apprentice baker gave him a long look as she pulled him toward the bed with both hands. "Cast your spell after you enter me," she said.
"Of course," replied Wenn as she pulled him atop her then they kissed as she guided his cock to her opening. As her wetness suggested, he slid in with no effort and she grunted in pleasure as he found her depths.
"I don't know that I. . . ." she began to say.
Then, for her, the world melted away. It was replaced by the pleasure and joy of a full cunt, magnified many fold. She suddenly was her vagina, and nothing else in the universe mattered. She screamed right off, an orgasm tearing through her like a gale through a forest. Wenn pulled forth and pushed into her again and she screamed again, and again, she her entire body was seized with paralysis now, and she could not move. Fingernails were dug into the sheets, and Wenn heard them rip as she climaxed again. He feared she would faint, so casting feverishly again, he used the spell on himself.
The next morning, the sun warmed his backside as he lay upon the balcony floor, overlooking the street below. A wagon trundled past and he looked about blearily at the rising sun. "Wow," said Wenn. He crawled back through the open door to the bedroom they had been in. Shanelle lay upon the floor, her groin covered in drying semen almost to her knees. She was curled in her sleep and he smiled to see she was fine. He barely remembered last night after he cast the spell, just ecstasy.
He lay himself before her and touched her brow, more of his spend had dried there, and in her hair. He looked down and saw that he had a good deal of it on himself, too.
