Seeds of Retribution (closed for PieTaster)

[PieTaster]

Venturing forth down the right fork tunnel, another opening branched again to the right. It looked narrow as he peered into its blackness so he decided to press on. Then there was another opening. It was better sized but appeared to descend rather sharply. Again he continued until he reached a third. Sticking the torch into its mouth, the flame flickered to reveal that it soon turned sharply. Falke decided to continue along the main tunnel. The ceiling was high enough to stand comfortably, but not much more. As the path led on a slight curve, Falke could not see terribly far ahead. Once he estimated that he had traversed a quarter verst from the original junction, he realized that the faint glow on the walls ahead may not have been from his own torch. He held the embered baton behind his body to block its eminence and confirmed, there was light up ahead.

Slowly, Falke crept on, taking care to lift his feet with each step and not drag them in the dust and make noise. Soon her could hear the crackle of fire and within a few steps he came upon an opening to a small shadowy room, a rough hollowed cave. As he peered around the edge of the entrance he immediately saw her, trapped in her stance leaning over about to tend the flames, a frightened look in her eyes as she spotted him.

"Zora," he whispered and stepped gingerly into the room. It was small, it's walls strewn with texts and vials a myriad of intricate objects. "It is only I," he said holding up his open palm reassuringly and looked about to confirm that they were indeed alone.

 

[TheQueenofCups]

Zora blinked, thinking for a moment the movement out of the corner of her eye was Yana or another servant. In quick succession, she brought her palm to her throat as her heart fluttered with concern and then, a tenuous relief. In going to the shrine, some of the inner workings had been revealed. If Amenja had appeared as just another conquered fortress, she was selling its secrets now.

“You are clever to have found me. Or...“ she tilted her head, and set the full bucket back on the floor near the fire. “perhaps, just curious enough, to bother with the tunnels. I think you are the first to step foot here.”

Zora sat the water down. She looked down at herself, at the rather ungainly form of covering she wore as she worked. The magician's old smock was stained with various colors, but primarily dark purple smears ran along its hems and sides. It had been adjusted to fit her and her strange purpose. It was bulky and heavy to protect her from the fire, from what might spill, but easy enough to throw off and return to the halls with very few the wiser.

She unknotted the ties that wrapped the roughly-hewn fabric around her, serving to protect a more queenly, more revealing dress below. A dark blue silk centered at her waist and framed her bare torso and chest with a silver-gilt edge that rose into a collar that folded back on itself at her shoulders. It covered her arms down to her elbows, a richer dye than any on display among the those who sat at Gorun's table, A small silvered chain ran across her just below her collarbone, dripping a small, dark jewel until it was nearly hidden between the ripe, full lahodne of her breasts.

A leather belt adorned with further silver wrapped four or five times around her waist, binding the cloth to her before spilling into layers of blue cloth, cut in long swathes so that she could walk freely in the skirt. The dress was one of many the Cizinecs had brought to her, in the first few weeks after they began to call her queen, one she had refused to wear before today.

She had intended to find him, find him and fuck him if he was still willing...but time and her thoughts had slipped from her.

Yet, here he was. She felt the beast of desire begin to mount her.

Zora set the smock at the end of the bed behind her and walked the few small steps past the fire, past Falke. She pressed the door shut with her purpled palm, and turned. Her hair was bound again in a braid, though the plaits were gentler, done for purpose rather than decoration. The queen brought her fingertips, daubed lightly as they still were with the raw Blessing to her already thickening nipples. She pulled on each as she spoke, void, for the moment, of any shame.

“If you sought me, you have found me, Falke. There are no eyes here, no Cizinecs, no goddesses. Do you wish to make love to me?”

 

[PieTaster]

Falke placed his torch into the bracket on the wall next to where he had entered.

"Do you wish to make love to me?"

"As much as you wish me to?" he countered. "I would think more."

His hands found hers, supporting her bosom, his clean fingers entwining between hers violaceously dyed, and he stepped close. Falke kissed her, softly at first but quickly hardening and deepening as the passion between them blazed. Kneading at her breasts, his fingers teased at her nipples as they passed over them, his hands pressing her own palms into her supple flesh, causing the fabric of her dress to jostle and loosen, succumbing to gravity and beginning to creep down her arms as the gem hanging from her neck disappeared into the beckoning depths of her rising cleft.

Their two bodies were welded together in silhouette against the orange flickers that the fire cast against the cave wall. The crackling flame played percussion to the heavy breath venting from their nostrils as they feverishly kissed. When he thought that they would break, he took an extra lick at her palate, but it only incited more lust and he kissed her as hard as before. When their lips finally smacked in parting, Falke's rigid cock formed a distinct tent in his breeches. His hands smoothed down her ribs to her hips and began to gather up the hem of her dress while his eyes took in the auburn-to-copper shadows formed on the exquisite shapes of her face.

 

[TheQueenofCups]

Zora, already mildly more sensitive as the remnants of her concoction worked lightly over her skin, leaned in to Falke's touch. Her expression was neutral, perhaps betraying a certain trepidation that could never fully leave her, even as their kissing grew all the more heated. But as he pulled on her reddened and hardening nipples, her eyes told the truth. They captured light, letting it play and dance over her irises, as her dress fell to her elbows. His hands moving from her hips, she felt the softness of the fabric rise up her legs, bare her wet sex to the still air of the room.
The queen smiled into and then melted into another achingly deep kiss as she felt Falke begin to push her against the pillar of his cock. A feeling she could not deny she found the entirety of herself enjoying.

Soon, her head settled against his firm shoulder, breaths shallower now, she found her tender, tingly violet palm slipping beneath Falke's breeches to grasp him at the root and stroke his length. His want for her made material in her fist. She could feel the gem warming in her cleavage as she clung to him. She kissed along his taut muscles that rose into his neck, her strokes along his cock were controlled and then quickened, and reined back in. It was not this, but looking up at him looking down at her, desiring her and Zora began to feel the intense ache she'd felt last time between her thighs again. Somehow akin to a pang of hunger, she felt uncomfortably void within, felt a gnawing there.

She had only just met The Beast of Wanting, but she had learned quickly that it is always hard and it whispers terrible things in her ears. Mate, fuck, draw his seed from his balls as the river fills the sea.

Zora reluctantly let his shaft go, and withdrew her hand. She sought Falke's hand again and pulled it to her mound. She had been made to rush last time. Now, time enough had been bought to take the full cup of pleasure, drain it dry. She would not scurry away.

 

[PieTaster]

By how she leaned into him grasp, Falke could tell that she was succumbing just as he was himself. There was ragged desperation in her face, on her skin. The beckoning in her eyes - half plea, half demand - was something that he'd seen before, but not quite like this.

Zora dug under his garments to grip and tug at his straining member endeavoring to excite him but he was already excited. Tracing her lips ascending his neck, she Gazed up at him again with that same beckoning and took one of his hands from her hip to place on her vagina. Her sex was warm, her bush already moistening from sweat and her lips slick to the touch. Slipping the the first knuckles of two fingers inside her, Falke gripped her mons with the heel of his thumb, easing pressure upon it.

Her intrusions had loosened his breeches and although the waistline fell, exposing his buttocks, the front caught on his erection. As well, from the motions of her arms, her dress fell further, revealing her freely hanging breasts, and with his other hand behind her neck, he drew her close for another wet passionate kiss, pressing their gently swaying bulk to his chest. He penetrated a second knuckle into her cunt and his thumb ventured downward in search of her clitoris.

 

[TheQueenofCups]

She hissed as the pad of his thumb brushed over her clit, even just the light swipe surprising the Queen. Gorun had shown little interest in seeing her express pleasure, and there was rarely time enough to concern himself with her arousal. A moan followed the hiss as she wrecked against his touch, drew her half-bare arms up over his shoulders to steady her as she drew her left thigh up and hooked her leg around him. The movement pushed Falke's fingers much deeper within her cunt. The ache of absence there beginning to throb instead with his presence. Without thinking, she whispered a breathy “yes”, and used her balance to grind against his palm.

A few thrusts against him as he held her, and Zora yanked down his useless breeches off the tip of his cock.

It pleased her, as much as the sense of her body relenting to his invading fingers claim on her, to feel...to see a hardened pillar of evidence of his desire for her. To feel his need feeding and being fed by her own. She felt her mouth begin to water, just as fervently as her cunt. Zora let her body continue to press against Falke's chest, felt his shaft and balls between them, as he fingered her, a less forgiving pace now. She looked into his eyes and down again to his lips, opening her own for another tongue-dancing kiss, one she had to break to cry out in pleasure as his strokes became relentless.

Her leg beginning to wobble, overwhelmed, she dropped her thigh back down. Taking this as a sign, Falke pulled his fingers from her pussy. Zora pulled the dress down over her hips, and sunk down into a nest of its fabric, down to her knees before him. She let her tongue lick a slow circle around the slight O shape of her open mouth.

 

[PieTaster]

"Yes."

Her thigh wrapped around him like a climbing vine as her hips undulated against his gripping hand. His other palm braced her by the small of her back, giving her leverage while his fingers gently but frenzily batted against her sensitive inner spot. Then she leaned back a moment to do away with his breeches and free his cock. The leggings fell and she returned her loving chest to indulgently press to him.

They kissed, deeply and feverishly until she had to voice her pleasure, half sigh, half moan, her feminine song alighted off the multiple angles and facets of the cave walls. She was beautiful in every way. The more that the Queen's stance wavered, the more that Falke kept her fast to him, but ultimately her foot returned to the floor and their bodies untangled. Her dress dropped and as she knelt before him, Falke lifted his tunic up and tossed it aside. He could have taken her right then, but as she primed her mouth to fellate him, he would not deny her. There was time. He would however, be certain to hold back his cum for her womb.

Falke tamed his intensity somewhat to gaze down upon her with a genuine fondness, his mouth expressionless but his eyes betraying veneration, as he beheld the bold softness of her presence and the sincerity in her attentive want. Stroking back her hair and caressing her cheek with a brush of his thumb, he steadied her face as it wavered atop her heavily panting chest, as below the exquisite shape of her chin her round fleshy breasts swelled and ebbed fervidly atop her lungs, their pointed blue-smudges nipples subtly yet tantalizingly flicking about in the firelight. Falke rested his glans on the lower lip of her beckoning mouth and felt her hot breath rush past it.

 

[TheQueenofCups]

It was new. New to find herself in this position and feel not that it was demanded of her, but her own desire that put her there.

It was new, however, it was also wise to make this as pleasurable, as physically intoxicating as she was able. She spread open the O of her lips, let her breath play over his head, but then pulled herself back, re-situated and began to slide the flat of her tongue along the underside of his firm, darting cock. The queen moved slowly, in direct opposition to the eager, tense energy she felt in her quim.

Her palms lay flat against him at the places his legs are joined to his body, her thumbs gently making circles into his flesh, slowly moving inward toward his groin. If he could concentrate on that touch beyond the more distracting heat of her mouth, the remnants of the Queen's alchemy would warm and tingle with every caress. Passing over his heavy balls, and up Falke's belly, she found the pale line of a battle scar to trace with her tongue.

Zora's eyes, half-closed, opened as her lapping attentions returned to the ridge of his cock. She attentively chased the edge of the glans before finally, finally, beginning to suck at the wet pearls dripping from the notch at the tip. A satisfying slurping sound followed as she used her hands to help accommodate the curving, upward angle of the shaft deeper into her mouth. She gazed up at him, letting her gaze become a lascivious stare, as her delicate lips spread even wider to take his swelling cock.

She felt Falke's hand slide over the crown of her hair, cradling her head at the base of her neck as she felt him at the back of her throat. Letting his hands guide her, push her further as she sucked him off, she returned, stroking and massaging him everywhere save his sac, hanging, almost close enough to graze her breasts as she pulled him into her. She moaned, eyelashes fluttering, before pushing him back and out of her, the moans becoming gasps as she refilled her lungs.

 

[PieTaster]

The pace at which Zora let her tongue slither along the underside of his cock and back was calculated and tantalizing. Meanwhile her inked fingertips massaged his abs, his loins (a move that he had not encountered before) while her mouth wandered up towards his navel to softly lick wherever her whimsy seemed to lead. Then she returned to his erection, delectably tasting his tip, before taking him in hand and enveloping him. Her mouth sunk down on his shaft and her irises, discolored from the orange flickering firelight peered up at him, unapologetic in their sin and despite being physically below him, they mentally and emotionally dangled him on strings from high above.

The experience and the sensations were dreamy. Falke's rigid stalk strained, almost painfully hard, while the rest of his body struggled to remain upright. He concentrated his strength to his knees so that they would not buckle while his head fell forward and his shoulders drooped, and he rested his palms on her shoulders for support, yet was careful to avoid burdening her with too much of his weight. She took him right down and they were close.

Then she pressed to ease him out for a moment to recover. Again he regarded her heaving panting breasts below her face, bleak with stark want. The small jewel on her chest glinted and sparkled in the firelight as it shivered in rhythm with her pounding heartbeat. He too was able to regather himself, and seize the sceptre of control that she held out on offer. Pulling up the length of her heavy braid like a line, he untied the end and let it begin to unravel itself.

Then with his firm hands under her arms Falke pressed his foot solidly into the folds of dark silk of her dress, then straightened her up. As he lifted her, the pinned gown peeled down from her thighs to pool haphazardly on the dusty stone. Zora's feet left the ground and he held her up before him at forearms' length, her jaw level with his brow and her glorious chest swaying gently before him. Then he paced the few short steps to the small bed (still with a trace of a limp) and flopped her down upon it, her golden locks fanning wildly beneath her head and the thin silver chain around her neck coiled in disarray, the gemstone tumbling into the hollow of her collar. Even spread apart and flattened, her tits rose impressively from her heaving lungs.

Falke crawled between her thighs and lowered his groin to hers and with fixed determination in his gaze, he reached one hand to aim his cock to her slit and sank in. A subtle groan rode on his breath as he sheathed himself in the moist heat of her lust and his palms rode up her sides, beneath her shoulders and into her hair as he stretched his body out over hers.

 

[TheQueenofCups]

For a moment, as Falke lifted her from her dress, her mind awash with sensation, with pleasure, Zora thought of the Magician. All his powers of foresight and yet this was how she ended up in Naescius' bed. Being fucked by a Cizinec, fucking his murderers with breathless abandon.

He had spoken in riddles, some of which she had spent the recent years trying to understand as she investigated and experimented in this small room.

This, this was no riddle, no idle fantasy of her youth. Falke's strong, sinuous form. The points of connection blanketed her body as he settled himself in and on top of her. Everywhere she felt the heat of touch as they tangled themselves together, then, spread wide for him, her knees high enough to let her feet to press and hold against his muscled legs, Zora's hand moved down to grip the back of his thigh, to encourage his steady, rhythmic thrusts as they coiled together.

Her eyes rolled back slightly as the rhythm increased, the tip of Falke's cock pressing upward into her walls as intensely as he held her down into the rough-hewn bedding to take it. He climbed forward over her, pressing her knees back while staying buried deep within her cunt. His fat balls hung heavily against her oozing slit as he used her with his impossibly stiff cock, moving her hips with it. He kissed along her jaw and neck, sharp scruff scraping her delicate skin, before parting her lips. Zora writhed and yelped as he pushed into her, beginning to feel the energy in her body all drawn below her belly. She felt the idea of cumming, floating somewhere in the air above Falke's shoulders, but she blotted it out of her mind. Instead, she brushed fingertips back over her bouncing nipples, the faint trace of the Blessing had kept them as rigid as Falke's shaft and the pleasure of touching them gave her a moment's distraction from the grinding, mashing, and slapping between her legs.

 

[PieTaster]

Her legs vined around his, her heels hooking into him, ensnaring him with her want. Their hips began to buck together and Falke pressed his pelvic bone down, grinding over her mons in search of her clit. Her thighs opened fully as she coaxed him on.

Between sloppy kisses he grunted along with her whimpers and sighs. He wanted this time to last longer than the first, and was determined to fully taste and enjoy her flesh and her passions, yet something deep within his core was driven to fuck her. Falke's hips begin to lift and drop, giving the Queen a few good hard strokes before he reigned himself in and pressed deep, still working to stimulate her clitoris.

The palms of Falke's hands gripped her from beneath her shoulders, his fingers curling over the tops, acting as leverage for his grinding. Beneath his face, her right clavicle beckoned and his lips kissed along its length before venturing down her chest, across the giving flesh of her breast to find her nipple. He suckled, and stroking the stiff pillar between tongue and teeth, he tasted the sweet but tangy berry flavor smudged there. Again Falke found his pounding thrusts had returned and he let her nipple go as he calmed his rhythm, wondering why it had even picked up at all. Then giving Zora's other breast equal treatment, he took the other nub between his lips, wetting it with his saliva and tugging it deep into his mouth.

His hips were pounding again and his balls had the wonderful ache as they prepared to clench and pump. He found himself unable to resist. Releasing her left nipple, it snapped and wiggled back into place as he gazed down into her eyes. Then with short deep hilting strokes, he fucked her, until his eyes rolled back and the breath that he'd been holding relented in a groaning sigh and the tremors in his core radiated throughout his abdomen and thighs as he pumped his seed into her depths as if paying out length after length of rope.

As the bliss subsided, gently he eased himself down upon her. Inside Zora, his glans dipped in his backed up well of goo and Falke contemplated why he could not hold himself back. He did not understand.

 

[TheQueenofCups]

Zora sighed deeply, absent another glorious release, but a smile curled across her lips as she looked up at Falke. Laying there, she let her hips gently, almost absentmindedly, move them both. Graze him against the mess of her inner walls as his body fully relaxed. Full. She did not lack for satisfaction in her purpose, of course, but she'd been careless with the concoction. It was meant for maids with men they wished not to linger in their beds.

She ran her fingertips along the frame of his face, arching her back to coil upwards for a kiss. “Do not worry. You did not have much. The Blessing is for other men, men who drink it down and will spill their seed and then find themselves so exhausted they can do naught else but sleep until the new day rises.”

Zora turned her gaze. Falke's frantic clutching and fucking had now become a gentle stillness, the room now filled with the sound of fire eating wood, the light gone save for a single beam cast over them.

“I should not...I should not want for more. It will be enough when...when it happens.”

She paused.

“I should be grateful, but...what I want...is your cock. Time will pass soon enough for this to all be over. And I do not wish to have wasted any of it.” It was a more aggressive motion than she normally took, but she wiggled enough to the left below him to have leverage to pull at his shoulders. It was easy enough to track, even in his newly foggy state, that she wanted to swap positions.

That accomplished, she straddled him. The queen kept most of her negligible weight on her own legs, so that she could easily brush her sopping slit back over Falke's softening member.

She leaned back and cupped her tits, rocking gently, but steadily over him. Her eyes imperious, energized rather than heavy with lust as she plucked and flicked each nipple. Her hair was a long, flowing cape over her shoulders, silky waves rolling along with her hips.

“Most men sleep. Almost all do. But once there was a man who drank of the Blessing and fucked his woman all night. Didn't leave her until she could hardly close her legs to keep his seed in. You've been a curious one, Falke, maybe you're not like most men in this regard as well.” Zora's slight, left palm passed over her belly.

 

[PieTaster]

"Do not worry. You did not have much. The Blessing is for other men, men who drink it down and will spill their seed and then find themselves so exhausted they can do naught else but sleep until the new day rises."

All innuendo removed, Zora admitted the lengths to which she was prepared to go to seed her womb by him, including the extra enchantment with which she had enticed his loins. She was determined beyond any doubt, and as such, Falke wondered if he was her only donor. He supposed that with each lustful man that she might clandestinely tryst with within these hidden caves, so would increase the risk taken in revealing the powerful secrets beneath the castle, let alone end up lethally exposing her own infidelities. If there were more than he, there could not be many.

The rhythm of their coupling was still subtle in her pelvis as he lay recovering upon her, his receding manhood squishing in her warm oozing tract. She filled her chest and exhaled, regarding him with a smile that betrayed a hint of genuine fondness before lifting herself for a kiss. He accepted her mouth fully, slowly entwining his tongue with hers.

"I should be grateful, but ... what I want ... is your cock."

It was as if the golden Queen were brushing any feelings aside, reinforcing Falke's place as a mere piece of meat. The fire was dimming now and, unlike their passions, needed more fuel. They were going to fuck some more. The fire pit could wait.

Falke took the hint and flipped himself onto his back. She sat atop him, indulgently brushing her unctuous labia the length of his dick as it began to refill as she gathered up the bulk of her breasts in her hands to work her nipples. It the dwindling dull orange flicker, it was difficult to make out the smudges on her fingers and areolas, but knowing that they were there he managed to discern. Falke's hands took over for hers and palmed the large soft sacks before carefully pinching the ends of her long nipples, crushing them carefully in on themselves.

"Most men sleep. Almost all do. But once there was a man who drank of the Blessing and fucked his woman all night. Didn't leave her until she could hardly close her legs to keep his seed in. You've been a curious one, Falke, maybe you're not like most men in this regard as well."

So she had done this before with others - others besides her husband - although whether before or during her marriage he could not say and in the moment was not keen to contemplate.

"Such heavenly loving breasts for nursing," he said, his voice low and relaxed but with a certain intensity growing in his heavy breath. "Such sturdy thighs for pounding," he continued as he let go of her tits and let them fall and wobble into shape to grasp her by the waist. "Such child-bearing hips," he noted with a narrowing of his eyes. "You were built for this," he said finally, grasping the hand that she had placed upon her tummy and lowering it to place over her womb at the top edge of her bush. His own hips were in full motion now too, augmenting her brushing strokes, and the tip of his re-hardened cock endeavored to catch on her entrance each time that she passed over it. "How vast a brood would delight you?" he asked, the corners of his mouth subtly widening.

 

[TheQueenofCups]

Zora laughed, softly and leaned forward, letting the weight of her tits draw her down and hang over Falke. They'd both played with them enough that now each thick nipple was primed, sensitive to the slight grazing sensation of Falke's chest hair, as their rhythm began to match again. She was more than relieved that reports weren't true...where all her handmaids and servant girls begged her for the Blessing to make for swift nights in the beds of the Cizinecs, and she endeavored to find a way to ensure Gorun never called for her without it in his glass...meanwhile, Falke had already gotten hard again. He hadn't taken very much though, less a taste than an aftertaste, the color left behind on her body merely that at this point. Still, she'd seen Gorun's eyes roll back and snores begin almost immediately.

She would have to experiment before the Warlord's return. The Blessing was but one of the recipes Naescius had left behind, half-deciphered. It was an odd joy, to find herself already feeling fluttering, nervous anticipation of getting to take a man inside her. An enemy no less. But how could an enemy make her feel so...endlessly...

She looked into his eyes, full of the pleasure of a deep, bodily need being understood. Her voice was husky, thirsty. As before in his presence, the words just fell out, unchecked. “How many? Make me like Reyja. Goddess of women. As soon as the babe finds her breast, another starts in her womb.”

She remembered her discarded goddess, despite all her unanswered requests. Women would leave her offerings of honey, of flowers, of amber, not only for children, but for strong ones, wise ones. It wasn't until now, in the middle of mating, that Zora realized what was possible if this fortnight bore fruit. She had thought only of one, to silence, to survive and keep what she was from disappearing with her death. But Falke was right, every part of her was made to make babies. She wanted to make theirs.

Feeling that moment once again where the head of his shaft slipped between her sodden lips, she stopped still for a moment, causing Falke to pause as well. She raised her hips and pushed them back gingerly, moving solely by touch and intuition, until she felt the fat head of his cock find its way back into her cunt. She shifted. Her mouth agape as his curve, finding all the resistance eased by earlier activities, penetrated her.

She settled down on him, her spread thighs completely pressed against the tops of his legs. Zora let her hands fall to stroke the scarred landscape of his chest, overwhelmed with how right this felt.

 

[PieTaster]

"How many? Make me like Reyja. Goddess of women. As soon as the babe finds her breast, another starts in her womb."

"Is that her name?" Falke asked, referring to the idol who guarded the tunnel passage. "The one in the shrine?" He palmed her breasts, one in each hand, symmetrically gathering them up from his chest, then letting them slip and hang down once more until the Queen righted herself to properly couple with him. Falke shifted his hips to improve the angle of his cock and then winced in pleasure as her entrance took him and began to ease down his length. Her expression was exquisite, eyes fluttering, jaw stretching, as she took him, recoating him with his own warm sperm while her fingers explored the wispy curls spread across his chest.

As she ground down upon his hilt, he drew her close and lifted his head to lick and suckle on one of her breasts dangling gloriously before him, then the other, letting them gently sway at the smacking release of his lips. Falke began to rock his pelvis, levering his hardness back and forth in her entrance before subtly tenting his knees enough to put him at an angle inside her and lifted his hips to impale her there as he felt the ooze of his previous load begin to leak around his base.

 

[TheQueenofCups]

“Yes. The shrine.” An answer so caught between waves of pleasure that it was nearly indistinguishable from her gasping exhalations. She remembered things now she had so long chosen to forget. “Before she gave Vanim his many sons, Reyja's first children were three daughters born on a single day. One at first dawn's light, one as the sun fell, and the last as the moon was full in the sky.”

She found his lips, found his tongue with hers. Then, she sat back up on his lap, lifting all the long plaits of hair up and behind her, bringing a little bit of cool air to her scalp and neck. Abeyante, flush on his already sloppy shaft, her pace and her breath slowed until both were measured. Her hips made a lazy circle until settled, spread, she recited down to him.

“Aesima, the child of the dawn,
Vaestred, the maiden of the dusk,
Gesmja, the old crone of the moon.

“I had not paid attention...you fucked me on Vaestred's altar. If the gods had not died, I would tell you it is a good sign.” Zora half-laughed wryly towards the ceiling. There would have been rites upon her marriage bed once to Vaestred. A blessing of the woman to be. For pleasure, for wisdom, for service. As she had been given for Aesima at her birth. As would have come again at death from Gesmja. Maybe this was how the ghost of a goddess sent her blessing as Gorun hadn't bothered with so much as a bed.

She breathed in sharply as Falke gripped her hips and pulled her down to him as he forced himself up. The motion hard, fast, rippling the soft flesh of her buttocks as he drove deeply up into her cunt. She brought herself forward, breasts now crushed against him. His wickedly angled shaft was finding unknown places inside her, rubbing against them over and over without mercy. Pressing himself against the hard, slippery pearl of her clit as he reached within her, Zora found herself closing her eyes. Her body was taking over. Her words were leaving her. She felt her pussy ride and clutch at the hot member, all the while yelping and grunting, unsure if she could sustain this level of pleasure much longer, in the same moment she was desperate to stay like this.

 

[PieTaster]

Before she gave Vanim his many sons, Reyja's first children were three daughters born on a single day. One at first dawn's light, one as the sun fell, and the last as the moon was full in the sky."

Zora then recited her verse, a story in three acts, one for each triplet sister of Amenja's lore. It was as if she were allowing her hidden culture to come forth in unison with her suppressed passion.

I had not paid attention. You fucked me on Vaestred's altar. If the Gods had not died, I would tell you it is a good sign."

She had the most exquisite way of saying the word 'fuck'.

"Since when do Gods die?" he posed. Then fanning her hair, strands of gold shimmered in the flickering light as it cascaded down her shoulders and back and as she leaned her body forward it all spilled around him, cool and sweet and nurturing. As were her tits, intimately and lustfully mashed to him. Gripping her by the waist, Falke steadied his target as his hips began thrusting upwards into her in earnest, the hot decadent slap of flesh now becoming clearly audible once more in between the cadence of the Queen's mewlings, the libidinous sounds of indulgent fucking, his hard shaft forcefully pistoning between her wet walls.

"Un, unm, unmh ..."

 

[TheQueenofCups]

Such a question. Gods died in a breath. Massacred at her feet. In a thought. A betrayal. In an orgasm.

She raised her body just enough to gaze at him as he used her body for both of their purposes. At his face, all desire. It was here, too, that gods might be born again.

If Zora wanted to answer Falke, now...She couldn't. She couldn't. Think about it. It was too late to think. About it. Think. They made noises now, not words.

In her mind's eye, she saw a dark sky open up, open wider and wider and wider, ever wider until...

Her body shuddered violently from deep within the well of her cunt all the way out to her spindling fingertips clutching at air, her legs shaking freely at no will of her own, as she came on his cock. Zora had no comparison for this, the pleasure too much and too fast to do anything but collapse into.

She cried out against the sharp line of his jaw like a morning bird, shamelessly, without concern for what hunts it in the dark. She panted against him, her limbs loose and heavier now over him, clearly exhausted by her release, but she stayed, however messily, atop him. The firelight was so dim now, she felt her sweat cooling her, felt her nakedness, how vulnerable she'd been, how demanding. Something had changed.

“I...I...can't...”

 

[PieTaster]

Falke had never witnessed an orgasm more obvious than the one that Zora was experiencing atop him, her body fluttering form the uncontrollable tremors deep within her. He braced her hard and lifted her part way up his shaft, enough for her juices to spill from her, the warm steady stream of cum soaking his pubes and running down to wet the bedding, while also flowing over his tummy, filling his navel and spilling off of his flanks. Her vocals as well, so near his face, were the exquisite tones of utter capitulation. He paused a moment, a spectator in awe of her rapturous carnal joy, basking in the sensations of her tremblings, and of her heaving breasts pooling their love upon him.

I ... I ... can't ...

"You most certainly can," he huffed, cursing himself from his idleness. Then pressing his palms atop her ass, he rammed his cock up to the hilt inside her and gripping her tight, he rolled his hips, flipping her onto her back (away from the main wet spot) and twisting in the process to land his feet on the floor. Then after a quick adjustment to position her squarely to the edge of the mattress, Falke hoisted her languid shaky legs up his chest, her calves to his shoulders. "If anyone, you can," he breathed heavily. Everything was shadows now, the ember glow of the fire merely caressing the edges of their black shapes. He dug his toes into the dirt floor and began to fuck her, the slap of flesh increasing in tempo as he drove his hard shaft deep into her depths. By now Zora was so slick that he reckoned he could last as long as they fancied.

 

[TheQueenofCups]

Her eyelids heavy, her thoughts stray across her mind like the flowers in the fore fields, she felt as though she needed to stop and bend to collect each one. And well before she felt capable of that, Falke turned her and put her back on her back. She had softened, but his cock, surging and thrusting in her sloppy passage clearly had not. The idea that the Blessing might hamper them tonight was completely abandoned. He wanted to go again. She'd never experienced a man who wanted more than...who wasn't afraid of what her body could do for them both...Zora shook those ugly flowers away.

Feeling Falke's desire continue between her legs as he manipulated them once more to draw her up against him, his spoken will to continue, Zora tried to buoy herself, to rise out of the haze of having been fucked, and return to the eager, hungry beast of fucking. Falke's lithe but muscled form held her up. She let her pelvis tilt up. This position kept her slippery pink quim open and receptive, spread as a funnel for his cock, for the seed to pour down into her wanting womb, assisted in that effort. As depleted as her orgasm had left her, the thought alone of receiving more of his potent seed was rejuvenating. Each smack of his heavy balls against her woke her a bit further, pattered out a rhythm her body was helpless but to recognize.

She ran her fingers as a V against the swollen lips between her legs as they took his cock, and brought them to her open mouth. She sucked each clean, the noise as noticeable in the dim light as the sight. Her voice a rasp. “Please your queen. Fuck me. Fuck me. If they find us like this, I want to know every solitary drop you have in those balls is mine.”

 

[PieTaster]

She didn't have to tell him to fuck her. The way that her hips rolled, her thighs parted, her hand gave herself a taste, her body had said it all. With the balls of his feet anchoring him well enough into the ground, he propped her legs within his arms, pressed his palms to her waist and used gravity to pound her pussy, slap-slap-slapping away in the darkness, and adding an extra forceful grind each time that he hilted into her.

It was nearly pitch black now. Things were measured in sounds, such as the wonderful squidginess of their union and the raggedness in her breath and throaty moans. They were also measured in touch, the heat in her flesh and it's grimy film of soot-laden sweat, and the inching of the mattress beneath her. Falke took a moment to glance over his shoulder to see the hot orange glow in the pit and of his torch on the far wall. So long as there were embers, he could relight things. Refocusing his attention on his Queen, Falke positioned his right hand so that his thumb dug into her soaked bush to find her hood. He pressed it to one side and held a moment, then to the other and with a trifle grunt he shoved himself deep into her slit, parting her walls to form around his shape as his balls rested on her bum. Then he began to flick his thumb gently back and forth over the small bud and pulled back to ram her again.

 

[TheQueenofCups]

Tits flopping across her chest as Falke toyed with her clit, Zora reached behind her ear and found the delicate gem that had fallen on its chain over her shoulder.

A faint golden glow had begun to emanate from its dark exterior. Zora smiled, not surprised by this development, and wrapped her palm around the jewel for a few moments before letting it free to bounce again across her body. The gem held the heat from her fist and doubled the light, as if it were a flameless torch, bearing enough light to replicate the fire at half-strength. She rubbed its unpolished edges over her nipples, making the sweat of her body appear almost luminous in its shadow, until Falke's play made her close her eyes and gasp.

His thrusts were hard and growing harder, and the bedding was no great luxury beneath her, so she shifted and drew her legs down, turned to her side. Zora lifted her leg upward so Falke could quickly push back inside from a new angle behind her. Safely re-sheathed, she let it drop down atop the other, both now bent and drawn up in front of her lithe body. Her swollen labia offered extra friction and pressure for his cock and her raw and rigid little clit was now hidden away, clamped between her thighs. She twisted at her hips to look up at him, absorbing his churning force, alight with the gem in the necklace. With the glowing jewel between their bodies, he could look into her eyes, the blue near black in the darkness, but each filled with a ring of light, filled with an unmistakable need for release.

 

[PieTaster]

It was dark enough now that the subtle radiance of the stone about her neck was unmistakable. This of course made it clear just how Zora had taken every alchemic advantage at her disposal, such was her determination to have his child, beyond his known virility.

There were very likely others but two were known. A boy named Zadric was in the north at a place called Kurrgh. He would be age five now. His mother Utania was among the opportunists that flocked for business when the regiments came to camp. Her hair was long dark and straight. Her chest was modest but her hips were wide and she shook them wildly during the night's fire dance. She didn't specifically ask for any payment but she had enticed many to see just how prominent of a catch that she could find. Eventually her eyes had settled upon Falke and his rank and would settle for no one lesser. He obliged but only for a night, as much as she had schemed for otherwise. As far as he was concerned he owed the harlot nothing. Then a year-and-a-half later there was a Tolban girl four valleys to the west named Dru with a blush that he could not resist during the winter frost. She was taller and her flesh was ample and the few days of passion that they had shared in his tent produced a daughter named Alinya. He visited when he could and ensured that Dru and the girl were looked after.

Zora took the gem into her fist and when she had let go it was definitely brighter, radiating a soft gossamer, enough for her nipples to cast a shadow as she passed it over them, its magic leaving a trail not unlike a tiny firefly on her skin. She turned herself to a new angle, necessitating him to cease the stimulation of his fingers, and the stone fell down to the mattress beneath her heavy bosom as she pulled her knees up. Her heavy breath from her upturned face yearned for his finish. With both palms pressed down on her hip and thigh, he adjusted his feet into new holds in the dirt and drove into her while Zora twisted herself to expose the soft beacon stone in the bedding once more, illuminating her hair.

The friction had brought a certain numbness to his shaft, yet he was compelled to seed her and so fixed his determination. With a grunt he shoved, and again, and his release came forth. A fabulous twitch in his thighs as if they were about to give out caused a wonderful ache and he came, three, four, five good hot spurts coursing through his urethra to add to his previous load.

After a moment, Falke slumped down behind her, his hands sliding over her hot greasy flesh, one up her back and the other up over her breast to embrace her, his own body spent in its bliss.

 

[TheQueenofCups]

They breathed together, the glow of the gem diminishing. Even with Falke next to her, the queen shivered as the earthen room began to quickly cool. She lay there, like some thoughtless lover, caught up in The chill roused something in she would have otherwise let sleep within her head. She liked that too much. He knew, intimately, how to bed a woman, how to serve her. She wanted that too much. With such gifts, why did he have no woman?

Rather than thinking further on it, she did not rise from the bed fully, but sat up next to Falke, pulling her bare breast from his palm.

Zora stood and made a few light steps towards a small wooden cabinet, the top drawer of which had relatively clean cloth. She tossed the small rags towards Falke and took another set for herself, noticing quickly, the thick bubbles of white leaking out of her pussy. She dabbed herself carelessly before, wincing at the sharp sting between her legs. She would have to bathe as best she could tonight, and demand to bathe by herself again in the morning. The servants would sneer silently. The swirl of talk would rage again: she was willful, selfish, headstrong, private in the way no Cizinec would demand, much less their queen. But they knew too much and would draw too close to miss the soreness. When Gorun was within the fort, he would leave her this way, a result solely of size and not skill. They would notice. And word of that would pass quicker than any wind off the cliffside. Foersa would know within the hour.

Zora felt almost entirely certain all of it would be forgotten, though, as soon as she began to show. Falke had certainly done his part again.

She moved back towards the bed, bringing the beacon stone back to illuminate them both. Her gleaming eyes cast an expression, one killed as soon as she became aware of it, of sentimentality. She then turned away, breaking the weighted silence with hushed tones as if suddenly they had become in earshot of a guard.

“Tomorrow night, the servants say the Council will call for a feast meeting. The war bands make good time. Perhaps not more than a seven-day until they return. You will hear, I think, by morning new word.”

 

[PieTaster]

She had settled into his loose embrace easily enough, but soon he had sensed a resistance within her. It didn't take too long. She roused the energy and first sat up, then stood. Perhaps to her this arrangement was much more business than it was personal (or at least she had intended it to be) and Falke had to admit that he couldn't blame her for that. Indeed it was all that he had agreed to, and even though she had made it clear that they had more time for themselves than during their previous engagement, lingering would never be terribly wise. He couldn't help however to think of how convenient such subterfuge was for her detachment.

Zora moved across the cave. Hearing her footfalls and quiet rummaging was easier to trace than trying to follow her phantom shadow through the black. Cloth fell upon his body and perhaps he would have flinched if he weren't so relaxed. Then she returned to the bedside, the tiny stone aglow in the valley of her free bosom, and snapped her attention elsewhere as Falke lay there half-sprawled, his heart still thudding in his chest, each exhale a calming bliss.

"Tomorrow night, the servants say the Council will call for a feast meeting. The war bands make good time. Perhaps not more than a seven-day until they return. You will hear, I think, by morning new word."

"What do the servants know?" Falke dismissed. He was not aware of any new messengers that day even though he would have been among the first to hear. Still, he supposed that a rider could have reached them after night fall, and Falke himself disposed as he was, would be rather difficult to find to relate the news to. He picked the cloth from his belly and sat himself up to stroke the goo from his limpness. Then with a sigh, he palmed the back of his head. It was time to go. Falke straightened his legs and rose, and with a languid stride approached the fire to drop the cloth upon the ashes. Fresh smoke rose.

"Burn any evidence," he said and made his way to the end glow of his torch on the wall. The rag had made for good kindling and small fresh flames licked upwards. He grabbed the torch and shoved it about in the fire, sparks scattering until it took. Then he brandished it, somewhat brightening the cave. Taking a moment, he looked to the ceiling for the smoke vents and contemplated where they may have led to. Then, replacing his torch to the wall mount, he picked his clothes from the floor, gave them a quick dusting and dressed.

Then warmly, he embraced her once more, holding snugly for some time. He would test her emotions in this moment. Finally allowing her to slip from his arms, he took his torch in hand. It seemed a shame to leave. All else considered, they would have stayed longer. He knew that much, whether Zora would have admitted so or not.

"Until tomorrow," he said, and stepped out the way that he had come.

Back down the tunnel, Falke retraced his faint footprints in the thin dust. Reaching the last of the three branches that he had recalled on the way in, now on the left, he peered in. It bent sharply just as he had remembered. Then he came upon the next one with its steep descent. He moved on to the final one (the first that he had found) and leaned in to savor a faintly cool freshness. It must have led to water.

He entered. A few strides in, it turned sharply to the right. As he carefully moved along, his knees sensed a descent for some time but it soon levelled out. The ceiling lowered, causing Falke to bow his head and he noted that two people passing would have been an effort. He imagined hefty Rogalo not managing well within such confines. His torch's warmth dangerously obvious, he had to take care to keep it from his face.

The wonderful coolness led him on and indeed there was the sound of rushing water reverberating its way along the funnelling walls. Having traversed well over a verst by then, minding outcroppings with his free hand along the way, he was heading towards the falls, he knew that now for certain. The sound grew louder and louder and when his hand holds felt dampness on the rock, he knew that there couldn't be much farther to go. The tunnel made a right-left chicane and there was a short descent of steps cut into the stone. The torch's flickerings upon the cave walls revealed a black opening at the end of the passage.

It broadened as he approached and Falke was able to straighten himself fully. He could feel the mist on his face and skin and he drew in a wonderful breath. The cascading thunder was solid and soothing as he stood on the wet rocky ledge facing the back of the falls. Falke imagined that difficult conversations required near-shouting directly next to ears there. Without the torch the scene would have been pure pitch but in the flickering light, the faintly glowing froth sheeted down with awesome power. The space was reasonably roomy and rather wide, even if cozy. A handful of people could have stood about without danger of slipping off.

Falke found it a most incredible place even before he turned around to find the deities embedded in the stone. At first he almost missed them in the shadows but the shapes implored him to hold his enembered baton close and make out the jewelled faces. Just as the fertility goddess (in the back of his mind he chided himself for not recalling her name) in the stone gully shrine, they had not been defaced in any way, confirming the deep secret of their hiding. If bandits or treasure hunters over the centuries could not find it, no one could.

There was another peculiarity, even greater than the others. There were two machines, one kept at either end of the ledge. They were mounted on heavy cut stone slabs and placed on wooden slip tracks to be pushed forward into the falling water to spin their large five-span wheels. Falke tested this by slowly turning one with his hand. It spun freely, telling that they were still in regular use, however he could not determine their practicality at the end of such a long and remote tunnel.

After several minutes of intrigue, his torch was fading low. He searched about briefly to find that the place seemed perfectly hidden, as far as he could discern. He could find no other access other than the way that he had come. Turning to leave, he re-traversed the tunnel, made a left into the previous passage and then another into the main tunnel back to the original shrine cave and shimmied past the Goddess. Reyja, he remembered her name as he regarded the amber eyes and painted crown. He ground what was left of his torch into the snufter and headed home.

"Where were you last nite?" Rogalo asked the next morning as he crossed the encampment of tents.

"Just a stroll," Falke shrugged.

"Aye," Rogalo nodded. "Always a habit of yours, but you ought to take a guard." Falke scrunched his nose at the remark. Rogalo meant well.

"The summer night fresh air does wonders for my recovery," Falke added. It wasn't a lie. He was feeling terrific, although he was sure that recent bawdy orgasms with a certain supple golden queen had as much to do with that.

"There was news," Rogalo continued. "Gorun is riding ahead of the troops. We can expect him perhaps in a week." Falke had of course anticipated this but gave no hint as to any previous intelligence. His head upon his pillow the night before, he had contemplated that an earlier arrival could be a good thing. Surely Gorun would bed his Queen promptly upon return and that would keep their copulations closer together, affording less chance of speculation should she deliver a trifle earlier than expected. Gorun was never one for the minutiae of detail but others were. It also struck him as curious as to why Zora would request well water when she had access to all the fresh running water that she could possibly need at the end of her secret tunnel, but then of course it would be difficult to fetch much of it while maintaining the secret.

Falke had news as well, but he kept it all to himself. He headed to the fortress to see if Szargo had indeed started his survey.