Eastport (closed)

[ThaDonger]

Is this whore teasing him or mocking him? He questions himself. The smirk across her face he did not appreciate. He places his hand firm around her neck, pressing your head and shoulders on the wooden table. His thrust are strong and deep. Each time inside the table barks as it slides across the floor.

"Shut the fuck up" Marcus scolds her. The strength in his words, the power in his hand, Marcus feels himself grow intoxicated with such power.

His orgasm approaches fast. His cock straining inside this whore. He holds her firmly by the throat as his thrust slow for a moment, but lengthen his stroke.

His balls tighten against him, his cock starts pulsing and throbbing. He quickly pulls himself from inside her, placing himself between her ass cheeks as he strokes his cock with his free hand. With a sudden rush, a long thick robe shoots and lands up her back, followed quickly by two more. He continues to jerk his hard cock as the remainder dribbles out into the crack of her ass.

Marcus releases his grip, taking a couple steps back before sitting on the nearest chair. His breathing deep, filling his lungs with each inhale. He watches as she stands upright from the table. His seed splattered up her back and her ass.

"I think we are done here. You should probably leave." He tells her, his body covered in sweat, shining in the light of the candles.

He pulls money from his trousers, stretching his hand out. "Here, for your troubles"

 

[Makisan]

She raised an eyebrow, staring at the strange money in front of her before taking it. She grabbed her ripped dress and walked out of his home, nothing bothering to clean up and get dressed. She made her way to Nym's apartments, flinging the money into a bowl of random trinkets. She called out to Nym, who came out from behind a divider, rubbing a towel over her head, still steaming and wet from a hot bath.

"So?" Nym asked. Her lover started to howl with laughter. Nym shook her head, walking over and kissing her.

When the sun was a bit over the horizon the next morning, there was a knock on Marcus's door.

"We are here to take you to see your future bride," the bronze statue of a guard said, staring down at Marcus, dark eyes watching him. There was no litter to carry Marcus today, instead of he was given his own mount, a sleek and brushed red gazelle, with antlers decorated with bells and silk.

They rode for an hour, the houses and apartments always changing in sizes and colors. They passed one of the many markets, this one selling soft fabrics and clothing. They turned down a street, the buildings opening up to show off the pink and white sands of the beach. A small building sat off close to the shore, the waves lapping feet from the balcony that sat toward the horizon. Smoke lazily drifted from the chimney, as if they fire was put out moments ago.

"You ride," the guard said, turning from him and going back to the city.

As Marcus rode up, he heard singing. When he took a step onto the balcony, the door swung open, a frazzled person with green eyes and short black hair, staring at him.

"You're early!" They said in his tongue, the Amberian accent thick. They stood aside, letting Marcus in.

The house was small, almost smaller than Marcus's. Their were books and papers laying everywhere, a table full of vials, some empty, most full of colorful liquids. A divider on the top of a small set of stairs stood between the mess and the large window that was pouring in sun.

The singing didn't stop. The dark haired person, the obvious servant, started pleading with the singer behind the divider. The singing stopped followed by a long sigh and the sound of splashing water. The divider was pushed back by a soaking wet hand, several shades darker than the guard from before. Amber eyes stared at Marcus, wet, red strands of hair stuck to her face that she shared with Terra. The servant squeaked and started to apologizing to Marcus for such a display of nudity. As they tried to cover up this red headed Terra, she waved them away, her eyes not leaving Marcus's face. She wasn't tall like Terra, nor was she built that the same. This person was curvier, more full in the breasts, with a bit of a tummy. She started to speak, but in Amberian.

"Mistress Nyx apologizes for the mess that you walked in and for my fretting. She is sending me out to get you both breakfast. If you could please sit while she gets dressed, she will attend to you as best as she can. She is not very versed in your tongue but will try her best."

The servant bowed to them both and quickly left the house.

Nyx smiled at Marcus, taking the steps down and greeting him, still naked and wet.

"Nya?" She asked, pressing a wet finger where his heart was. "Nya, sister! Here?" She asked again, pointing once more.

 

[ThaDonger]

"Nya?" Marcus questioned, not truely understanding.

He stares at her dumbfounded. She shares the same face as Terra. He stands, removing his cloak and placing it over her shoulders. Marcus pulls a chair from the table and offers her thee seat. "Sit" point to the seat. As Nyx takes the seat, Marcus sits back where he was.

"It's amazingly how much like Terra you look." He tells her, unable break his gaze.

The servant returns a short time later with a basket of fruit and bread. Marcus turns to her servant "She was saying Nya. I'm not sure what that means"

 

[Makisan]

The servant started talking to Nyx, who frowned and let out an exasperated sigh before talking back. The servant nodded and turned their attention back to Marcus.

"She is asking if her sister, Nya, lives in you heart. I think you knew her as Terra?"

Nyx stood up, handing the cloak back to Marcus before leaving the room and coming back dressed in a yellow cotton dress that fell to her knees. She started talking again, the servant listening before replying to Marcus.

"Mistress Nyx says that her, Nym and Nya shared the same womb space before Nya was sent away, just like their older sisters from years before. They are the last three daughters of the Mother's seven, each having different hair to represent their place from their mother's life. Nya was graced with dark hair, the same color as the night the Mother landed in Eastport. Nyx was blessed with the red of the blood of the people the Mother slaughtered to protect Eastport. It is said that the Mother rose from a pile of corpses that day. And Nym was graced with silver hair, the same color of the dagger that killed the first and last man of that long battle."

Nyx smiled at Marcus and poured him a glass of wine, setting it in front of him. Her hair was pulled back in a high pony tail, strands of wet hair still stuck to her face. She started talking again.

"This coming harvest, which is in a few weeks, we will being honoring my sister and her life. It would be an honor for you to tell us about her," the servant said, cutting up the bread and fruit and putting them on their plates. The servant bowed and took several steps back. Nyx looked at them and smiled, whispering to them.

The servant blinked and blushed before replying back. Nyx nodded.

"Mistress Nyx is dismissing me for the day, your grace. I shall return this evening with your dinner, however."

The servant bowed and left the house.

Nyx took a small drink of her wine, watching Marcus before opening her mouth.

"You teach me?" She asked, popping a grape into her mouth, crossing her legs. "Teach me Eastport?"