20: Jiranda or Ravette?

[Start from the beginning]

The temple to Sarlene was by no means the largest in the district; the minarets of the temple of the Sun God cast their shadows over it during the morning. But it was one of the more beautiful, at least if you preferred graceful lines over austere majesty. Green vines ran across the outer walls, twining between the bas-relief carvings. The carvings were not, as in some other parts of the world, openly erotic; they showed scenes of marriage and demure affection, all of which were, of course, well within the goddess’s purview.

It was not the common reputation that the temple had, of course. Many assumed that it was a place of debauchery, at least when regular marriage services were not being conducted there. But that view was mistaken, for while Sarlene was, among other things, a goddess of passionate sexuality, such things were not a part of her regular worship services. Impromptu, private, worship services, though… well, that was a different matter.

It was the last free day before the exploratory mission into the subterranean caverns beneath the city. Tomorrow, the adventurers would make their final plans, have a good night’s rest, and then, perhaps, finally learn what was really going on under their feet. Dolrim and Vardala were staying at the villa, while Calleslyn paid a visit to her friend Messandra – Almandar wondered how many of the others had worked out the truth of their relationship, but had no intention of talking about it himself.

Lady Tarissa, who, out of all of them, would have had the most difficulty understanding such things, had instead chosen to spend the evening praying at the temple of Pardror, god of paladins. There was nothing unusual in that, for she always did so before any of the party’s expeditions. But it had given Almandar the idea of paying a visit to the temple of his own preferred deity, the goddess of love.

The truth was, he was not a regular worshipper at the temple itself, although the goddess’ free-wheeling nature meant that that was also true of many of her other devotees. But, he reflected, Sarlene had been very good to him since he had returned from the last expedition, and where better to say his thanks than in her own home?

As he stepped through the stone archway into the cool interior, he reflected on some of the goddess’ recent gifts. He remembered Helsa’s smile, and the feel of her breasts, Lyrette’s sensuous lips sliding over the shaft of his cock, and his hands caressing Ashabi’s mahogany skin. He thought of the taste of Ansreal’s wet pussy, and the expression on Ostrid’s face as she had cried out in the throws of her passion. Oh, yes, he had much to be thankful for.

Inside the temple was a long hall, evening sunlight shining down from the windows up above and catching on the rippling water of five fountains. Alcoves led off to the side, and devotional artwork decorated the walls and the altar at the far end. The artwork here was a little more risqué than that on the exterior, but not by much; the people depicted were scantily clad, but not exposing themselves. A huge tapestry image of the goddess herself hung behind the altar, an image of idealised beauty clad in diaphanous rose-coloured robes, smiling and opening her arms in welcome.

There was only one other person visible at the moment, the priestesses evidently about their business elsewhere. Almandar had seen her before, although he was uncertain how regular a worshipper she was. She was a short woman, perhaps a couple of inches over five feet tall, with long sandy hair that fell to her mid-back. She was turned away from him, sitting down by one of the pools, but even so, he could admire the tightness of her lavender-coloured dress, and the shapely curves of one partially exposed leg.

He searched his memory, and recalled that her name was Ravette. They had spoken before, a couple of times, but had never been more intimate than that. This was, he reflected, something of a pity, for she had magnificent breasts, their large size belying her short stature. Nonetheless, she was obviously busy, lost in her own reverie, and now was not the time to interrupt her. Besides, he had business of his own to attend to.

He knelt down beside another of the fountain pools, resting his knees on the soft and coloured cushions that lay around them. In the centre of the pool stood a statue of a naked couple entwined, pressed against each other to hide any indecent details. He looked down into the water, admiring the way the evening light caught its surface, a sunbeam shining down from up above.

Reaching into a small bag he gently removed some flowers that he had bought that afternoon, carefully resting them on the surface of the water, watching them bob about and move with the cycling of the fountain water. He held out his arms above them, mimicking the welcoming gesture of the goddess on the tapestry – not for Sarlene the closed hands of prayer favoured by some other deities.

He chanted the familiar words of the prayer of thanks. They were hundreds of years old, and still spoken in an archaic dialect of Common, yet they had changed enough down the years to remain perfectly understandable. Sarlene was free with her gifts, understanding and openness key parts of her theology.

As the flowers swirled in the water, curling filigrees of silver mist began to rise from the surface, twining around them. For Almandar, the rest of the world floated away, his senses now focused solely on the pool before him. The sounds of the outside world ceased, and instead he could hear, just at the edge of perception, achingly beautiful music. The tune was elusive, never quite clear enough to recall or reproduce, yet always somehow familiar.

The mist enclosed the flowers, like miniature vortices in the air, wafting their fragrance to his nostrils. It was sparkling now, a strange internal light, steadily brightening to shield the blossoms themselves from view. A sense of peace and harmony enveloped him, a momentary communion with the all-embracing love of the goddess. Then, with one final burst of light, the mist and the flowers were gone, and he was back in the real world, the blooms transported elsewhere, left with the memory of Sarlene’s presence.

As always when he used these magical pools to offer sacrifices to the goddess, he was unsure of how much time had passed. But at some point during the experience, a woman had come over to kneel close to him, a quarter of the way around the fountain’s circumference. He did not recognise her.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, her voice quiet, yet rich in timbre, “I saw you sitting here, and became entranced by the flowers… they have joined the goddess?”

He nodded, reflecting that she could not be a regular worshipper. But people, of course, came to the temple all the time, out of curiosity or from a genuine need for the gift of love. She was slender, in a dark green dress, and aged, he thought, in her mid twenties. Her hair and eyes were dark, the latter wide and giving her an air of vulnerability. Her skin looked soft and unblemished, her lips pale and thin, her cheekbones high.

“I am new here…” she said, “to the temple, I mean. But I needed to pray to the goddess… I suppose I shouldn’t trouble you with it, but the pool looked so serene, and the flowers, and…” she stumbled over the words, glancing down at the water instead of looking straight at him, “and I think I may need a little guidance. You obviously know the prayers… if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course,” he said, holding out a hand, “I’m Almandar.”

“Jiranda,” she said, taking the hand and squeezing it in greeting. “And thank you.”

“So, let’s begin. You hold your hands like this,” he demonstrated the gesture, “and keep your eyes on something that shows beauty – the water, the statue, the tapestry, whatever makes you feel most comfortable. The petition itself can be spoken out loud, but it is just as common to say it silently. But there are some prayers that we commonly use. They don’t have to be word-perfect; Sarlene is a forgiving goddess. But let me teach you some of them…”

They remained there for a little while, he reciting some of the shorter prayers of petition, she repeating them, stumbling over the words a couple of times at first, but picking them up quickly. She chose to look, he saw, at the statue, with the lovers entwined, but he also noticed a couple of glances in his direction, to which he responded with an encouraging smile. The goddess of love was not jealous, and he knew committed partners who prayed facing each other.

When they had finished, she put her arms down by her sides, and turned to face him directly. “Thank you,” she said, simply.

“I hope you find what you asked for,” he said. She had chosen to do that part in silence, so he had no idea what it was, and would not enquire.

“Yes,” she said, “I need a change in my life, something to take me away from… well, let me just say from past mistakes. Hopefully this is a beginning in that direction.”

“The goddess welcomes people at any time.”

“She seems a very free goddess,” said Jiranda, “not one to get held up on rules. She doesn’t seem to mind what you do.”

“So long as you do it in the right frame of mind, and with the right intentions,” agreed Almandar, “obviously, she frowns on acts of evil, or intentional ugliness – anything that takes love away from the world.”

“You hear, though…” Jiranda paused, as if looking for the right words, “that there are other ways of worshipping her. Apart from the temple.”

Almandar knew, of course, exactly what she referred to. And, given her glances earlier, he felt he could be open about the possibilities, if he phrased things right, and got through her uncertainty.

“Private means of worship, you mean,” he said, watching her face intently for her reaction, “commune with the goddess through physical expression of affection.”

Jiranda nodded, “if you do not mind me asking… how does that work?”

“Any time you make love,” said Almandar, “you approach the goddess, whether with intent or not. You can say prayers of thanks – they can even be silent – if you want to show your gratitude for her gift, but otherwise, it is the act of love herself that pleases her, and your knowledge of where it comes from.”

“But it is not communion in the way that your flowers in the pool were?”

“It is not a sacrifice, but it is a communion, albeit of a different kind. Worshippers believe that the moment of, shall we say, the peak, is a contact with the eternal power of love, the touch of the goddess. Obviously, as a goddess of love, she prefers two people to reach that point of communion together.”

Jiranda nodded, then blushed slightly, opening her mouth as if to speak, before falling silent again.

“If you are free tonight,” said Almandar, grasping the opportunity, “I would be willing to show you that form of worship as well. If you wish it.”

She reached out and patted his hand, then took a deep breath, nodding decisively. “Yes, I think I would like that. I think it may be just what I need to start afresh. I shall thank the goddess again tonight,” she added, with a knowing smile.

“After the communion,” he said.

She leaned forward, whispering in his ear, “you mean, after you drive me to orgasm?” He said nothing, feeling no reply was needed to that. But then she leaned back, her expression suddenly changing, “oh – I’ve just remembered. I had plans… nothing important, I can change them. But I have to go, just for a moment, to let my sister know…” she got to her feet, “I’ll be back, just in a few minutes. Don’t move! I won’t be long… just a couple of moments. Don’t go.”

“I’ll be here,” he replied sincerely.

She half ran from the temple, looking a little flustered. Her sister had to be waiting outside, he assumed, wondering how she would explain her absence for the evening, when they had presumably planned some other activity. Probably not with the truth, he thought, or she would not have worried about taking him with her. He got to his feet, and headed for the entrance himself, deciding to wait just inside the archway until she had returned.

“Almandar,” said a chirpy voice, “has the goddess been good to you recently?”

He looked around to see Ravette approaching, until she stood next to him. This could be a little awkward, he reflected.

“She has, indeed,” he said, “in fact…”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to break that lucky streak, would we?” she replied, before he could explain further, “I’m alone tonight, with nothing to do, and you and I have never seemed to be free at the same time.”

She leaned forward, pushing out her chest provocatively. And what a chest it was, he reflected. The fabric of her lavender dress strained to hold her bulging breasts in, her short frame making them appear even larger, her figure a perfect hourglass. Her blue eyes were wide, watching him intently. At any other time, he would have been more than willing to oblige her.

“I really appreciate the offer,” he said, reluctantly, “but I am afraid that I have a prior engagement. Luck is not on our side, perhaps. And not for the next few days, either.”

“Really?” she looked deflated, pouting in disappointment, “there is something more important?”

“It’s not that, it’s…”

At that precise moment, Jiranda returned, looking a little flushed, as if she had been running. She flashed a grin at Almandar, perhaps having half-expected him to have gone, but then noticed Ravette, and took a small step back, looking a little embarrassed.

“Jiranda – Ravette. An acquaintance of mine,” he turned back to the shorter woman, “it was nice to meet you again, but I must be going.”

“So this is your prior engagement?” said Ravette, perking up again slightly and eyeing Jiranda, as if comparing her charms against her own.

“Yes, so…” Almandar held out an arm to Jiranda, and made as if to move away. Ravette should understand, being a fellow worshipper.

“Well, I’m game if you are,” said Ravette brightly.

It took a second or two for Almandar to grasp her meaning, but then the light dawned. “I… uh… I’m not sure that would work…”

Jiranda frowned, looking from one to the other as they spoke, apparently still trying to divine what they were talking about. “Is there something I’m missing here?”

“I thought I might join you,” Ravette told her, “if you like.”

“Oh…” said Jiranda, suddenly flustered, “I don’t think you… you see we were going to… I mean, it wouldn’t be…”

“I know,” said the other woman, “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Jiranda’s eyes widened, and her mouth formed an ‘O’ of surprise as she evidently realised that Ravette had known all along what she and Almandar had been going to do, and what the nature of her offer had been. She stood there in shock for a moment, and Almandar mentally sought for a way to defuse the situation; Ravette had been too forward, and now the promise of the night seemed to be crumbling before his eyes.

But then the taller woman braced herself, taking a long deep breath, and speaking, her voice barely more than a squeak. “All right. Yes.”

As soon as she had spoken, she seemed shocked, as if she could hardly believe what she had just said. Ravette grinned, bouncing up on her toes, making her breasts jiggle beneath the tight dress. Almandar looked again at Jiranda, but she nodded firmly, unable to speak for the moment, but her mind apparently made up.

A couple of seconds ago, he had thought the night was already over. Now he realised that it had only just begun, and should very much be a night to remember…

──◊──

“This is my bedroom,” said Jiranda, opening the door and gesturing within as if she was showing off her house to a regular visitor. Although she had shown no signs of changing her mind or backing down, she did look a little nervous, uncertain as to what to do. She held the door open, so Almandar stepped inside first, and, when she still didn’t move, beckoned to her to follow him.

She did so, hands fluttering first against the door handle, and then fidgeting at her side. She glanced around as Ravette stepped into the room beside her, the smaller woman’s movements confident and eager, her face visibly flushed with anticipation.

Jiranda took a moment to calm herself, and looked straight at Almandar. She took a few deep breaths, steadying her nerves, “I’ve not done anything like this before,” she said, somewhat needlessly, “just so you know.”

“Well, actually…” said Ravette, closing the door softly behind her, “neither have I. Not quite like this, anyway. But I have thought about it a lot,” she added with a sly grin.

Almandar reached over with one hand, gently pulling Jiranda toward him for a kiss. Her lips were soft, hesitant at first, but soon melting into a long and passionate caress as she pressed her body into his. Her initial hesitancy seemed to be fading as his hands traced out her flanks and her slim, tight, buttocks. She ran her fingers through his hair as they continued to kiss, her other arm wrapped around his back.

Behind him, he could hear Ravette beginning to undress, and the thought made his kisses more passionate, running over Jiranda’s cheek, ears, and neck. His hands sought out the fastenings at the back of her dress, untying them with experienced deftness, and slipping underneath the fabric to feel her back through her shift.

He gripped one buttock, pressing her hips into his, his hard erection straining against the material that separated them. He rucked her skirt up, but the hemline normally reached to the middle of her long calves, so he could not reach down far enough to feel her legs. She was murmuring as they continued to kiss, momentarily oblivious to the rest of the world.

That oblivion lasted only until Almandar felt Ravette beginning to pull his shirt free from the back of his trews, lifting up both it and his tunic, to run her hands up and along his back. Her legs pressed against his, and her hands wandered forward, over his belly, brushing against Jiranda’s in the process.

With a slight gasp, the taller woman stepped back, out of his embrace, her dress half-falling off one arm to reveal the short-sleeved white shift beneath. Behind him, Ravette pressed herself into his back, her face against his shoulder blades, her large breasts squashed against him as she continued to stroke his stomach, lifting his shirt and tunic up higher as they went.

Jiranda stood watching them both, her eyes wide, and her face flushed. She remained rooted to the spot as Almandar helped her remove his upper garments and one of Ravette’s legs rubbed against an outer thigh. The shorter woman moved round then, so that he could see her properly, swishing her long hair. She was still wearing her shift, but it had a low cut front that exposed the upper curve of her bosom, and barely reach to mid-thigh, showing off her shapely legs.

She reached a hand up, pulling his head down into a kiss, and he gripped her flanks through the thin cotton, feeling their tight inward curve. She leaned into him, breasts straining against the fabric that still separated them from his naked torso. Her buttocks were rounded, larger than Jiranda’s, yielding pleasantly to the press of his fingers.

He glanced up at the other woman, hoping that she had not finally taken fright. But, instead, she seemed to be gazing at the pair of them in rapture, watching their every move. She even squeezed one of her own small breasts as she did so, her mouth part open, her breathing heavy. However she had expected herself to react, it was clear that she was now finding the sight of two semi-naked people caressing to be one that was deeply arousing.

Catching his glance, she quickly began to undo her girdle, removing her dress and pulling it down over her slender hips. Her shift was even shorter than Ravette’s – or so it seemed against her long legs – revealing a beautifully creamy skin that seemed clear of any blemish. He could see her dark nipples through the cotton, poking against the material. She moved back towards the bed, sitting on it with legs slightly apart, and Almandar made to join her.

Ravette followed him, grasping awkwardly at the ties on his trews. Jiranda was lying back on the sheets now, one knee bent so that the shift slid down over her sheer thighs to reveal a flash of her panties beneath. Almandar climbed onto the bed beside her, kissing her on the mouth as the other woman finally managed to undo his trews, sliding them down over his legs.

He and Jiranda kissed again, and he reached down to the hem of her shift, pulling it up. She leaned back and raised her arms to allow him to pull it off and cast it aside. The rest of her body was as flawless as her legs, her stomach flat and narrow, her breasts pert with dark aureoles and narrow nipples. Her skin was soft and supple, feeling wonderful beneath his questing fingers. He bent down to kiss her collar bone, lightly squeezing one breast with his hand as she kissed the top of his head. His lips soon followed his hand, and his tongue flicked against the hard little nipple, gently teasing it, and making her moan in pleasure.

Her voice was pleasant, he reflected, with a rich timbre that surely made her a good singer. It was a voice he wanted to hear moaning much more before the night was out; just listening to the sound of it was erotic, let alone what he was doing to her body at the time.

Ravette had joined them, easing herself onto the bed, and pushing them forward to make the best use of the little available space. As he continued to tease Jiranda’s breasts and feel her back and upper thighs, the other woman was running her own lips over his earlobe, and then down the back of his neck and along his spine. Jiranda squirmed against him, murmuring some soft encouragement as Ravette moved ever lower towards his buttocks.

Almost reluctantly, Almandar rolled over onto his back, his undershorts tenting under the pressure of his erect cock. Jiranda rolled over him slightly, kissing his lips, chin and throat, and running a hand over his belly. Ravette, meanwhile, had moved lower until her head was level with his shorts.

She pulled them down, as the brunette wrapped one of her long legs around his nearest, her toes rubbing against the tops of his own feet. Almandar groaned as Ravette’s fingers ran the length of his cock, feeling the length of it. Jiranda paused in her kisses, and joined him in looking down to where the sandy blonde ministered to his erection, her blue eyes wide as they flicked between her prize and the faces of her two companions.

With deliberate slowness, Ravette stuck out her tongue, and licked the underside of his cock. She planted a small kiss on the engorged tip, then took his balls gently in her hands, sucking on each in turn. The half-elf gasped as she continued to caress his straining erection, and Jiranda moved awkwardly down the bed to kiss his navel and squeeze the inside of his thighs.

The two woman shifted positions, by some silent mutual agreement, and soon it was Jiranda who was wrapping her lips around his cock. She took the head part way into her mouth, tasting his pre-cum while Ravette sucked on one of his balls, gently teasing his scrotum. Then they were both licking him, one on each side, beautiful, yet contrasting, faces pressed together as their eyes sought his. He grunted, his hips jerking involuntarily, and strained to stop himself cumming immediately as the delightful torture continued.

He managed – but only just – and it seemed that they had taken the hint, not wanting things to be over so soon. They both pulled back, Jiranda to lie beside him once again, and Ravette to kneel astride one of his legs. She was still wearing her shift, he noticed, but only for a second more, for soon she had pulled it up and over her head, throwing it across the room so that it landed on a far dresser before falling to the floor.

Fully exposed, he could now admire her breasts properly. They had pale pink aureoles, with long nipples that she was already fingering, as she moved her body to make them bounce, obviously well aware of how much he would want to fondle and kiss them. This was clearly a woman who knew her own assets.

Jiranda, meanwhile, was rubbing her crotch against his hip. He reached around to feel her back, questing lower towards her tight buttocks. She pulled her panties down then, pressing skin to skin and running her fingers across his nipples. He glanced down, at the dark-haired mound grinding against his hip, gripping her buttock more firmly, then turned his gaze back towards Ravette.

Sensing his need, she leaned forward, shuffling up the bed to bring their heads level. Her large breasts hung down, emphasising their already impressive size, and he grasped one, kneading it beneath his fingers as she reached forward to kiss him on the lips. She moved to flop down beside him as he moved his attention to her other breast and continued to kiss her passionately.

Jiranda pulled his head to the other side, and he kissed her instead, realising that both women were equally eager to be pleased. He wrapped the nearest arm around the brunette, pulling her into his side, then turned back to Ravette. She had moved up the bed slightly, so that her large breasts with their long pink nipples were almost thrust into his face, and she had already pulled off her panties. He moved his other hand to embrace her, holding both women tightly as he feasted his kisses on Ravette’s breasts, licking them, sucking her nipples, lightly nipping them with his teeth and making her cry out in pleasure.

Even as he did so, Jiranda was kissing his neck and shoulder, running her tongue up towards his ear, her legs twining with his, the movements of her groin against his hip growing more urgent. He released both women, and sat up, turning round to sit on his hands and knees, both women beneath him.

They shuffled together on the bed, arms touching as they lay on their backs facing him, making use of the limited space. He looked from one to the other, admiring both of them. Jiranda’s small breasts were heaving, the dark nipples fully engorged. Her narrow black bush looked inviting, between those long, silky thighs. Her dark eyes were round, focussed on his own, her breaths long and shallow. He could sense the desire in those eyes, silently begging him to take her first.

Ravette’s sandy blonde hair was arrayed about her in a halo, mussed up on the sheets, a few long strands sticking in the sweat covering her swollen breasts. Her curvaceous legs were slightly apart, the golden bush damp with her own desire, her blue eyes focussed, for the moment, not on his, but lower down, to where his cock hung, equidistant between the two. For a second he was paralysed with indecision.

But then Ravette made the decision for him, grabbing his erection, and moving her hips up to meet it. He thrust hard inside her, and she let out a gasp of pleasure, possibly tinged with a little triumph. He positioned himself on top of her, her breasts squeezed against his chest, grinding his hips again and again into her waiting cunt.

Her cries were loud and passionate, willing him on. She wrapped her shapely legs around him, rounded thighs almost against his heaving buttocks as he continued to pound into her. The size of her breasts made it difficult to kiss her from this angle, their prominence forcing his own chest upwards so that he rested partly on his arms.

Jiranda half sat up, caressing his back with one hand, and then kissing his earlobe. “Don’t forget to save some for me,” she whispered, sounding almost plaintive, her voice so quiet that he could barely catch the words over Ravette’s increasingly loud cries.

He slowed his pace, grinding into the blonde more slowly, earning a deep groan of pleasure as she adjusted her own motions to his new rhythm. He glanced aside to Jiranda, the woman who he had first intended to make love to this evening. She was watching them both intently, and he guessed, by the way she was fingering herself with one hand and squeezing a small breast with the other that, while she was frustrated for the moment, she was also deeply turned on by the sight.

He reached his nearer hand down towards her, rubbing it over her groin as he continued to thrust into Ravette. She helped him, guiding his motion as he tried to pleasure both women at once, moving fingers and hips with the same pounding rhythm. It was, he had to admit, an awkward position, and he suspected he was not doing as good a job as he might were he able to give her his whole attention, but he did not want her to feel left out.

Underneath his body, the blonde was moving her hips with increasing vigour, rising to meet his thrusts with ever greater urgency. He responded in kind, reluctantly slipping his hand free from Jiranda’s pussy in the process. Ravette’s blue eyes were wider than ever, her long hair in total disarray. He sensed the brunette moving up beside him, first glancing down to watch his cock heaving into the other woman, then watching her face from over his shoulder.

Ravette came with a loud cry, and Almandar gasped as he joined her, his seed pouring into her pulsing cunt. They remained together for a while, her hips still straining against his, prolonging the pleasure for as long as possible, as her cries softened to breathy pants.

By the time she released him, he had fully softened, and he collapsed back on the bed beside her, trying to steady his breathing. Jiranda still lay beside him, her desire still unrelieved, but there was nothing he could do for her at the moment; he needed too much time to recover.

Ravette lay on her back, sweat-mired breasts still heaving as she caught her breath. “Whew…” she said at last, in a long exhalation, “that was good!”

The other woman bit her lip, looking slightly pained. “Perhaps,” she said softly, “but…” she left the statement hanging.

“Jiranda,” said Almandar, trying to sound soothing, “I couldn’t forget you. I just need a moment.”

“Mmm,” was the only response he got at first, but then she began to slowly stroke his chest, running her fingers over the hair. “It certainly looked good,” she said, after a while, and then kissed his shoulder. “Just don’t be too long.”

He leaned over towards her, kissing her tenderly on the lips, and taking one of her hands in his. He gazed down over her naked body, admiring how her shape was so different from Ravette’s. His other hand stroked her hair, and they kissed again.

Releasing his hand, Jiranda began to explore his body, brushing her fingertips over it, feeling the shape of his upper arms and legs, his chest and stomach, slowly straying towards his groin, where Almandar began to feel the stirrings of passion once again. Jiranda smiled as she watched his cock stiffening, still only semi-erect, but beginning to rise above the bush of his pubic hair.

With a grin, she sat up in the bed, and moved to sit astride him, legs either side of his hips, pussy hovering just above his growing erection. She slid her hands down her body, dipping between her thighs to rub her clit, fingers coming away damp with moisture. His cock stiffened further as she manoeuvred it again against her inner thigh, the skin so silky smooth and unblemished. She moved gently, rubbing him against her, and slowly lowering herself until the head brushed against her pubic hair, the rough texture contrasting with that of her skin.

She looked down, satisfied that he was fully erect now, and raised herself up slightly, before pushing his cock inch by inch into her tight, waiting pussy. She let out a deep moan as he penetrated her, again letting him admire the musical sound of her voice. Slowly, she began to move herself up and down on his cock, gripping one of her breasts with one hand, and rubbing her groin with the other, sometimes dipping down to feel the shape of him as he thrust up to meet her.

Almandar reached out to her, and she leaned forward slightly so that he could caress, first her flanks, and then the unattended breast. She continued to moan, throwing her head back as she gave vent to her passion. He could feel her tight buttocks pressing down against him as she lowered herself, pushing him as far in as she could, and then moving back up until he was almost free.

The half-elf closed his eyes, savouring the sounds and feelings that flooded his senses. He could just listen to those moans of pleasure forever, especially if she continued to move like this.

Then he felt lips against his, and opened his eyes to see Ravette kissing him. He kissed her back, wondering if she was up for a second try herself later on. He soon got his answer, as she leaned across him, pressing one breast into his open hand – the one that was not already fondling Jiranda’s smaller mound. Then she moved, swinging one leg across his chest, pushing herself up until her breasts obscured his vision of the other woman, still sliding up and down on his cock.

He kissed them, savouring them, and taking another opportunity to suck on her large nipples, but soon she moved out of the way, shifting up so that it was now her pussy that filled his vision, her luscious thighs planted on either side of his head. She was damp, her pussy lips swollen with renewed desire, the nub of her clit close to his mouth.

He needed no further encouragement, and began to press his mouth against her slit, kissing and licking her as her own gasps joined Jiranda’s. He sucked her clit, and Ravette cried out, her wide hips now moving into his face even as more slender ones ground themselves against his lower body. He looked up, over her belly to watch those large protruding breasts bouncing as he continued to pleasure her.

The cries and moans of both women mingled as their pleasure heightened. Neither seemed to mind sharing him, and he was delighted to oblige, moving with increasing vigour as his strength returned. Ravette’s cries were becoming shorter, more urgent, loud enough to almost drown out the melody of Jiranda’s. He renewed his attentions on her, driving his tongue deeper, tasting traces of his own semen, licking and sucking on her swollen clit.

Watching her breasts bounce, he saw Jiranda’s arms reach around the other woman’s body, gripping those heaving globes, tweaking the long nipples beneath her fingers. Ravette let out a shout of pleasured surprise, and leaned back into the other woman, giving her a better purchase.

“Holly goddess! Oh, fuck, yes!” the blonde screamed, her body bucking as she shook with the sudden unexpected force of her second orgasm, her hips grinding into Almandar’s face as she did so.

The sound and feel of the other woman climaxing evidently came close to driving Jiranda over the edge, too, for she increased the pace of her thrusts on Almandar’s cock, flesh slapping hard against him as those wonderful moans reached a crescendo. They climaxed together, his own groan still muffled by Ravette’s body, and she letting out a long, groaning sigh as her spasming cunt drew out the last drops from his cock.

As the three of them cuddled together on the narrow bed afterwards, Almandar reflected that tomorrow was another day. A day when entirely different things might suddenly become clear…