Feldare Tales: High Society Ch. 08
"It's hardly palatial," said Crissa. "But almost no one knows about it, and it's scryguarded."
"Scryguarded?" asked Kennet.
Crissa knew Kennet knew a little of magic, and things magical, and she regarded him. "You know what it means," she said.
"Yes. I asked more as to why," he said.
A wan smile formed on the sorceress' lips. "I have my own, very personal, reasons, for wards about," she said. "Let me just say that they protect those without, rather than those within."
"There is a barrel of water back there, follow the dripping sound," she said. "It's under a fountain, so should be drinkable. There are no beds, sorry, but we have blankets, and the floor is more or less dry."
Kennet sat down and pulled out the second light stone, repeating the light command, and more light filled the chamber. Crissa smiled to see Wenn's handiwork being put to good use.
Peris moved to the water barrel and cupped water into her mouth, pronouncing it fine to drink, unless it was bad in a very subtle way.
The tensions of the night caught up with Crissa and she knew that she should either go to sleep or find a cooperative person to work them out with.
Eyeing Kennet with a appraising look, she decided on the former, to maintain equanimity in the trio.
Kennet, however, approached her as she unfolded a blanket onto the floor. "You said the elven woman would see me agian, but how will she find me?" he asked.
Crissa blinked at the question for a moment before her mind caught up with his words. "Well, elves have a way with things like that, I guess," she said.
A slightly dubious look came into Kennet's features and he said, "Elves have few senses we don't. They can see better in the dark, but overall, it's still sight."
"She's a shaman or some such," explained Crissa, trying to rewrap his mind with the elven imagery she had filled it with. "I don't understand their workings."
He nodded. "I thought as much," he said. "That's how she healed us."
Crissa gave him a curt nod and started to lie down. "Almost I wish I had not seen her," he said wistfully, causing her to open her eyes again and half turn over to face him.
He was now sitting beside her, on the bare stones of the floor.
Peris was spreading a blanket near the door, humming to herself and studiously ignoring the two of them.
"Why?" asked Crissa. "Don't you wish to meet elves, one day?"
He sighed deeply and gave a very tiny smile. "I have all my life, yes," he said. "But, here I am, doing exciting, adventurous things, with two beautiful women, and all I can think of is how lovely she was."
Crissa smiled at him, extending a hand to stroke his cheek. "You're a good man Kennet," she said, very soberly. "You might should think less on elves and more on the people you see daily."
In a infinitely tiny voice, he said, "I wish I could."
Crissa did not even notice what she was doing. Before she could stop, she had reached out with her mind and touched his, changing his perception of her, ever so slightly. Softening her features, and heightening her fair points.
She leaned forward and kissed Kennet, and he responded eagerly, returning the kiss and putting his arms around her. Despite his slenderness, he was a man who did perform labor, at least sometimes, and the arms were strong and the embrace with them.
A gentle pull brought him over onto the blanket with her, lying half atop her body. She felt his organ in his pants stiffen at the prone, intimate contact and smiled inwardly as their lips continued to press together. She let the mental illusion go, it having served its purpose of getting him started. Most men, once moving, did not stop easily.
Kennet proved no exception. She had invited him, and now he was responding. One of his hands, surprisingly soft, slid up her thigh, under her knee-length skirt. She did not resist him. She was in a safe place, she did not resist anything. It felt wondrous to let her feelings go, for the first time in many days.
His fingers felt hot on her thigh as he moved them upward, finally coming to the crux of her legs and moving over the slick wetness of her opening. She had eagerly anticipated this and was already halfway to being ready before he arrived, as any good hostess would be for unexpected guests.
Still, she sighed at the touch, so enthused and eager. This, more than any other reason, was why she took new lovers, for that fumbling, eager, discovering touch. It felt wondrous each time it happened. Some were skilled, others caring, still others clumsy and charmingly inept, but always they brought that feeling to their touch and mind.
Kennet, being a man of full years, and still a virgin, brought more of that feeling than most. She felt the waves of his pent passions flowing over her and they took her breath away in a way that no man, save Wenn, their first time, did.
Her hands groped at his belt, tugging at the clasp, every bit as clumsily as a girl who knew not how to handle a man. This was another feature of such lovemaking, she almost became a virgin with Kennet, so powerful were his half-fearful feelings.
Finally, though, the belt came open and her hand darted into his pants, groping for his stiffened rod. Her fingers found it and gripped, forcefully, the engorged thing, hearing the sudden gasp from Kennet as, for the first time he knew, his cock was touched by a woman.
She smiled at the mixture of shock and excitement on his face and pulled him down for a kiss as she started to stroke the cock in her slender hand.
Kennet's own fingers lost some of their clumsiness and uncertainty with her, and one moved into her, eliciting a gasp of her own as the digit parted her lips. "Rub gently at the top," she whispered hoarsely, "just above the rest."
The now wet finger pulled out of her and moved over the nub of her clitoris. She arched her back and groaned softly at that and sighed, "There," as he moved back and forth.
Crissa's hand had fallen idle in her pleasure, and now she resumed stroking him. His pants were around his knees now and she moved around, twisting her upper body to bring her head to him.
Her warm, soft lips formed a seal around the head of his penis while her hand continued to stroke. She noted his finger on her clit had stopped moving. This was fine, as she had intended to surprise him.
When she looked up, she saw a stunned look of ecstasy on his face as he watched her. She kept her eyes upon his as she moved her head back and forth, leaving a glistening gleam on the shaft.
He seemed to have been holding his breath and released it in a shuddering moan and grunted, "One's blessing," even as he spent himself.
Crissa smiled at him, pulling back and letting his prick drop from her mouth. He had his eyes closed, his mind working furiously behind the lids. She could feel his emotions swirling there. Lust, desire, fear, pleasure, excitement, amid other, more subtle tastes.
A moment later, his fingers began experimentally moving over her entrance and she spread her long thighs apart to allow him freedom of motion. He looked down at her slit, then at her eyes. She nodded and he moved over and down, touching his tongue to her while she untied the skirt's bindings. She sighed as he made contact and began moving his mouth over her.
While not the finest at such things, the young man was more than adequate, and possessed of impressive drive. He mouthed her with a passion that bordered on mania and made small sounds of pleasure and excitement. The thoughts he harbored were more exciting than the contact to Crissa, though the two together quickly had her squirming and moaning beneath his fast moving tongue.
Her fingers moved to his curly hair, the texture thick and heavy, like corn silk. She was bucking upward, and held his head in a strong grip, the strong muscles of Crissa's arms holding his skull fast and allowing her to choose the positioning of his tongue with precision.
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