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| Not an Innuendo Posted by: Mistress Kara at 03-26-2014 03:10 AM, Last Modified 03-26-2014 03:10 AM |
Squinting at the rune floating before him, Trefor paced around it, his goggles bulging from his face. He was studying the magical properties of runes such as Paverunes, and how those such as metalsmiths could channel their magical properties into their crafted goods. Surely there was some magical cause, but he felt...nothing. As if the rune was just any other stone tablet, apart from the engraving.
He heard the door open, and a head with frost-colored hair popped in. “Are you still studying that thing, Trefor?”
Pulling the goggles back onto his forehead, Trefor sighed, giving the thing a dismissive smack. The rune spun in place, though this went unnoticed by the sorcerer as he turned to regard his companion. “I don’t understand it Imelle, and I despise not understanding something,” he sighed, wiping his brow. “It reads as a blank, even after all that we’ve done to it.”
Imelle’s eyebrow shot up. “Maybe it’s already been used, or it’s a fake?”
Trefor huffed. “Probably, damn Castanics and their habitual lying. Why do you ask, anyway?”
“I just wanted to let you know I was going to be upstairs preparing a stew, in case you were hungry,” she chimed. “Good luck with the rune!” That said, she departed with a wink, and Trefor was left with his frustration. He didn’t handle frustration well, and decided to follow after the High Elf and vent it, tossing his gloves onto the workbench as he left.
Upstairs, he found her already at work, cutting up a vegetable on the counter. He took a moment to just watch her; tall, Elven frame covered in a sun-dress, her tiny feet bare and bright against the wooden floor. Her hair was back in a messy ponytail which freed her ears to protrude high and proud from her head.
Even with her dress, she was very appealing, and her lithe form was not entirely hidden underneath the garment. He strode up to her, silent as one can be on wooden boards, and leaned over her, pressing against her heavily. His greater weight pinned her against the counter, and she yelped in surprise, dropping the knife. “Trefor!”
He wedged a hand under her dress, fingers searching for their soft, fleshy goal. With a squeeze they announced their success, and Imelle gasped, face reddening and squirming slowing. He rolled her nipple between his fingers, feeling her melt beneath him. She began to moan softly, head leaning back against his neck. He knew she’d give in, it was their game.
His other hand slipped his trousers down, and he wasted no time slipping his erection between her thighs, pressing them together and rocking his hips to grind against her. It was something of a guilty pleasure for her, and he felt her instantly become receptive, rocking her hips back and forth to help stimulate his arousal.
This was their routine; one would get frustrated, sexually or not, and use the other as an outlet. It was an unspoken agreement, as neither were interested in a partner or the hazards relationships brought. And, feeling her squirm and writhe beneath him as he used her to please himself, he never regretted it less than in the moment.
He pulled back from her thighs, pushing her dress up and grinning. “You expected this, didn’t you?” Her sex was bared to his view, no undergarments to conceal the glistening wetness that coated it.
“Not really, I was just lazy…” she gasped out, catching her breath from his ministrations. He slid a finger along her slit, causing her to shiver, and pressed the finger to her lips. He was too frustrated to bother spending time pleasing her; this moment was about him, and she was but a means to the end.
As soon as her lips wrapped around his finger, he pressed into her, feeling her warmth spread wetly around his erection, and he didn’t stop until his groin met hers. Firmly encased in her, he began thrusting; again dispensing with elaborate movements and focusing solely on release. He knew she loved it, and was proven right as she began to thrust her hips back, getting him deeper inside her.
“Treforrrr,” she jointly purred and moaned, her hands at her breasts. Trefor snatched them in a fist and held them tight above her head, the position enabling him to get just a little bit further inside of her and causing her to moan out even more. His other hand kept a firm grip on her waist, pulling her back onto his thrusts as he grunted with each, arousal building to a crescendo.
Her face was flat against the counter and he saw her squint and bite her lip, felt her clenching tighter than before and felt her tremble afterward; she always came first. He kept his steady pace, without hesitation or any sign of stopping, and counted her orgasms. Two. Three. Four.
Unfortunately, by the fifth, he was unable to last much longer, and his rough use of the Elf had left her little more than a panting and gasping puddle. He sped up, his body complaining of exhaustion, but paid no heed as he thrust in and out of her sex, the tight cling of her lips and walls feeling pleasurable to the point of pain as he slammed in one last time to the hilt before pulling almost all the way out.
He orgasmed, his cum spurting from his cock in large pulses, and he watched her moan and buck her hips as she felt the warmth fill her. A flare of sexual, instinctual dominance caused him to growl and thrust to the hilt once more, biting down on her bare shoulder as he finished climaxing inside of her pussy, the amount spilling back out of her and down her thighs by the time he came up from orgasmic bliss, an unknown amount of time passing as he lay atop her back, lazing in the afterglow, twitching and spilling the last of his seed at the very door to her Elven womb.
She panted, looking up at him from the counter and narrowing her eyes. “It was not an innuendo, you know…”...... |
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