An oasis of love...

Kiril finds that the simple act washing her long tresses to be highly erotic an stimulating. And from Springs's hardened nipples, it's obvious that she feels the same.

"IKitten, gi melin" he says softly, but his voice trembles with the intensity of his emotions. By the time he is done washing her hair, he is so hard as to be almost painful.

He looks down at her, still floating in the pool of water, her light golden hair spread out in the water, and gazes at her.

 Her face, heart shaped, small but perky nose perfectly fitted to her face. Her Emerald green eyes peering through half closed lids, with long lashes, almost invisible in the bright sunlight. A small mouth, though he knows from experience that it can well accommodate, erhm, larger objects. And lips so luscious they practically beg him to kiss them. A delicate neck, nicely proportioned shoulders for her small frame. Then there is her chest. Her breasts are so perfect, as to be as works of art , and her nipples. And her nipples, why he might write a poem, nay a dozen poems about the stirrings they cause in him. Seeing the line of her ribcage, and how he has a desire to trace it with lips and tongue. Flat, firm stomach, leading his eyes further to her small waist. Why his hands, fingers of one hand can touch the other hand when going around her waist. Her hips, which feel so right under his touch, then there is her warm, hot, moist parts to consider. Or should he say worship. Yes, perhaps that is the better word. For if there is a truer temple of Love, of Eros, in the world, he hasn't heard of it. Her legs, though she is far from tall, her legs still seem to him to go on forever, and a more shapely pair, he has yet to see. Or imagine. Even her delicate feet can stir him. And now he knows that they are incredibly sensitive and loving on her feet can drive her into a frenzy.

At this thought a wicked, yet little boy mischievous grin spreads across his handsome face.

Slowly, he turns her floating body in the water until her right side is in front of him, her shoulder and upper arm in front of his legs.

Taking a wider stance in the pool, he places his left hand under her back, while his right moves to her nearest ankle. Before she realizes it, he has lifted the foot out of the water, bringing to his face, where he runs the tip of his tongue over the instep. She would have floundered and gone under without his supporting hand.

Kiril grins again at her squawk, which turned quickly into a moan, her entire body shivering, squirming in his grasp.

"Ah kitten, it is time for me to exact my revenge for losing this morning's challenge." he says wickedly. Wetting his lips, he puckers and kisses the arch, then instep, before putting her big toe in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around while sucking seems to have the desired effect as she thrashes, moans, shrieks, and laughs, seemingly all at the same time. That she is excited though, there can be no doubt. As he continues to lavish attention on the foot, she isn't without her own means of vengeance for his use of unscrupulous surprise tactics.

Grabbing him around one thigh with her right arm, she uses her left hand to grab his shaft at the base, and re-positioning herself to gain better advantage, levies a devastating counteroffensive. She runs her tongue over the head , down the underside, and then back to the head of his so very hard cock. Then she sucks the head into her mouth.

His loud groan brings a smile to her rather rather full mouth.

He redoubles his attentions, eliciting further shrieks, sequels and moans from her.

She then returns the favor. Soon the oasis is echoing to his grunts and moans of pure bliss, and her yells and moans of ecstasy.

So who wins this battle? Why both of them, of course!

o0o

SPLASH!

Her mind spins. Marry? Kiril? She feels his arms gather round her and his soft kisses on top of her head. A smile plays at the corners of her mouth. Marry? Her arms wrap tight around Kiril, she squeezes his waist, ignoring his sword digging into her hip she leans back, her eyes meeting his, “Then we’d best survive,” she says softly her fingers curling in his hair and pulling his head to meet her lips.

With a light and happy step, they find their way back in and down to the kitchens to grab some rather plain looking, but delicious offerings. Making their way to their bedrolls they notice that Penladan is not yet returned from his morning ritual and Connie must have located another room to set her many accruements in as her bedroll is missing from the corner.

“I don’t know how the cook turns such simple ingredients into such delicious food!” Spring smiles, popping the last bite in her mouth and washing it down with a drink of water. “I need to clean up,” she grins impishly, “Someone got me all dirty last night.” Her smile lingers on Kiril. She stands, grabbing a small bag and her one other clean shirt, “I’ll meet you back here?” she asks, as it seems they will be given a day off, some sightings during the night leave Alma with an oddly concerned fear.

Kiril grins wolfishly, “Or I could come with you and we can make our way over to the river and have a real bath?”

Spring’s eyes light up. “Could we? Do you think it safe?” her excitement at sinking into the water obvious.

Kiril nods, “I found a path that leads to a small grotto a few kilometres from here, we should be okay as long as we keep our wits about us.” He comes lithely to his feet. Spring takes his dish, “I’ll take these to the kitchen and we can go.”

Kiril gathers a few items and when Spring returns, they make their way out of the monastery, nodding to Othic, they start off, Kiril’s hand clasping hers as they wend their way through the desert, the heat only a promise of what it would be later.

The walk in non-eventful, although twice they thought they spotted a roving bunch of Gnolls, but they disappeared or formed into trees as they came closer.

“Oh, Kiril,” Spring clasps his arm as they make their way down a slope to, what could only be described as an oasis in the desert. A mirage! A thick circle of trees and low bush surrounded a deep pool of clear water. “It’s so... perfect!” She claps her hands. “When did you find this?”

He smiles, “When you ran the other day, you ran right past here. I noticed it. let me go down first, to be sure we will be alone.” He begins to descend the small slope, sword drawn as he carefully looks for unwanted visitors. He turns to tell Spring she can come down and nearly bumps into her as she has followed him closely.

He tries to frown and scold her, but she diffuses his concern with a quick kiss to his lips. He wraps his arms about her and twirls, her feet lifting off the ground before he stops, “You are a minx!” He kisses the tip of her nose before releasing her. “Okay,” he says, spinning swiftly, “Last one in is a mudwumpies’ pouch!”

He sheds boots, his breeches, and drops his sword before tugging off the shirt he’d put on to block the burn of the sun as they walked to the oasis. As the shirt comes over his head he hears, “SPLASH!”

His eyes bolt up, turning to be sure Spring is safe and spying a small pile of clothes consisting of a

leather skirt, a shirt and sandals. Spring is laughing, “You wear too much clothing,” she teases as she paddles in the cool water, her breasts floating just at the surface.

He shakes his head, a wide grin lighting his face. “Incoming!” He shouts as he runs the few steps and jumps into the deep pool, creating a great splash!

As he breaks the surface, he flips his hair off his face. “Are you trying to drown me,” Spring teases, bobbing in the moving water.

He swims close to her, reaching his arm out, and drawing her against him, their wet bodies touching. “Never,” he whispers as his mouth closes briefly over hers. His hands on her shoulders her pushes downward as their kiss breaks. “I will however help you wet your hair!” he laughs as he pushes her under the water.

She grabs his hand and pulls him off balance until they are both frolicking, splashing and teasing one another. Kiril goes back to the pack to retrieve some soap, immediately moving to hold Spring as he rubs the cake of soap over her body, taking great care of her nipples and between her thighs as he lathered and washed her gritty flesh.

“Oh, Kiril, that feels so nice,” she sighs as his fingers glide between her folds. Pressing against his hand, she gasps suddenly, as she feels her body quiver through an orgasm, “Oh, Kiril! Oh Gawds!” Her fingers leave indents on his arm.

She goes to take the soap, eager to show him how much fun bathing can be, but he shakes his head... “No melamin,” he whispers, his fingers stroking through her long, dirty tresses, “I want to wash your hair for you kitten.” She nods and turns back to him, floating, as his hands starts to play with her hair... she shivers as she feels her nipples pebble and her abdomen clutch...

o0o

Sly little minx...

When Kiril wakes, he immediately realizes something is wrong. But what?

Oh, he isn't in his bedroll. He's in the secret room, he realizes. Reaching for Spring, he then knows what caused him to wake. She isn't here.

Rising, hurriedly dressing in his leggings, boots, buckling his sword belt on, ignoring his shirt, blanket and lantern for now, he exits the room.

Not seeing her in their sleeping area, he tries to think where she might be.

He sees no signs of struggle in the area, nor does he notice Blaze.

Perhaps she is at the washing area? No, not there, and no sign she has been there this morning.

Morning, huh! this is a good hour and a half earlier than his usual rising, and he is by far the earliest riser of any of the monastery's inhabitants by a large margin.

Perhaps a run? He leaves the building, and finally sees tracks, A small foot, delicate steps, yes, he has found her tracks, and they are very recent.

No sign of anyone else with her, or following her. Okay, then she is out here of her own volition. Good! He most likely won't have to kill anyone then.

He sees a guard. "Spring out there?" he asks.

"Aye, ‘bout a quarter turn past she went out, she did," the guard then grins, "I think she's a'waitin fer ye. She's out thar whar ya always be doin yer sword drills, she be." Then he winks.

Kiril just grins, then mutters, "Oh, what a sly minx!" Then to the guard, “Othic, thanks for keeping an eye on for me."

The guard, Othic replies, "Oiy, keepin’ an eye on that one sure ain't a chore, now is it. Besides which, I be seein’ ya praticin, I ‘ave, and you just be a'keepin that thar blade of yurs pointin’ aways from me, be if ya don't be a'mindin. I figures if I keep an eye on the wee lassie fer ya, ye be doin’ that thar li’l thing."

“Othic," he replies with a heartfelt grin, "that is absolutely the most I've ever heard you say at one time. And I promise to keep my sword pointed away from you. I love her you know, so you have my gratitude."

"Aye laddie, a blind man could be a'seein how ya felt. And she's a likely lass, she be. I'm a'thinkin that the two of ye will be makin’ a powerful, strong couple, i'm a'thinkin. Ya done goood lad, as did she in agreein’ to ya."

“I haven't asked her yet, Othic. I thought we should perhaps we should survive the cleansing first," Kiril says.

Otihc grins at him and replies, "Might not hav put it into words laddie, but the question, its been asked, and answered, its plain to these ol eyes, it’s been."

Kiril beams at that, waves at him, and as he turns to head out to find Spring, he says to Othic. "Thank you again. Now I have a beautiful woman waiting on me, and that's something way to good to pass up. So enough talking with you, you old reprobate!" And he moves away.

Meanwhile, behind him, Othic chuckles, and continues his watch of the surrounding area.

Kiril moves stealthily to his usual training area. He wants to see how keen Spring's senses are, as this too, is a good skill to train in. So, moving silently, blending from shadow to shadow, he makes his way. Soon, he becomes aware of a presence. It's her. Circling around behind her, he is able to move to within a few paces of her back. He stands motionless and still.

About two minutes pass when he hears, "You’re standing behind me aren't you?" Springs says in a perfectly normal conversational tone of voice.

"Yes kitten, I am" he says, the humor he feels leaking out in his tone.

"And this is a foundation for future training. Being aware of your surroundings, but not today's. And my Love, very clever of you, getting up first. Now turn around please."

When she does, he steps forward, putting a hand on each of her hips, lifting her up into the air, then bringing her back down to pull her close to kiss.

Laughing softly, as sound carries way too well out here, he tells her, "That was my showing that I concede your victory in my challenge to you. By the way, Good Morning, and, I love you!"

Spring giggles, and says, "Well I need to win more often then, if this is my prize!"

“See that you do," he warns with a smile. "See that you do, as your forfeit is ghastly indeed!" he teases. "But, now, let’s get started.”

He has her follow his example as he warms up, then starts basic lunges, strikes and blocks. He sees that she is having some problems keeping her focus, so he stops her, deciding that some training in meditation would be helpful.

After she had copied his seated position, he says to her, "I will now try and teach you some simple meditation exercises. This will help you to ignore distractions, even fatigue and pain from injuries as you improve. It will be useful, I believe when your casting spells in the middle of the bedlam and chaos of battle also, not just for melee."

"Now I want you to try and blank out of your mind of everything but my voice." He continues talking softly to her for awhile, then he changes his instructions. "Good, you’re doing good. Now push my voice, so it seems to come from far away, as if from the wind.” His voice continues and then he says, “Now hear your heart, the beat of it, ignore everything else.”

Now Spring feels her body being shaken. Her attention snaps back, and she sees Kiril kneeling in front of her, gently shaking her, with a warm smile lighting up his face.

“Spring, melamin, you are a natural. Look in the sky."

She does. The sun is rising. What? It should be at least another three hours.

At the bewildered look on her face, Kiril chuckles, and says, "Mela, you've been in a trance for a long time. I was going to do more tumbling, but this is, for many, a very difficult skill to understand and gain. Now we can work on your ability to enter into this state at will, and to retain a conscious state of mind for your task at hand, while blanking out that which distracts. It took me several weeks to do what you just did. I am very excited at this progress of yours."

“But, it is now time to go back and get breakfast. Again, well done!"

He helps her stand, but before heading back to the monastery. he reaches out for her hand. Clasping it, he looks deeply into her eyes. Kiril says to her, "Spring, Gi melin! And I want you to be prepared. When we finish clearing this city, I will have a question to ask you. I would ask now but for two reasons, I want to have us survive the trials still ahead of us in these damnable ruins, and, while I am certain of my feelings, I want you to have more time to examine your own. I hope you already know what I am to ask. I am going to ask you to marry me. And if you decide to say no, I will still love you, and will protect you with every bit of skill at my disposal.

And then he gathers her in to his arms, kissing the top of her head.

o0o

Wakie... wakie...

Laying on top of him, his shaft expanding her backside, she trembles again as his fingers tease her, stroking lightly over her hyper-sensitive flesh, down her tummy and back, squeezing and caressing her breasts.            

Her breathing is erratic, as waves of intense pleasure continue to flood her. This was something Gryfaw and Nasko had said was another way to rid themselves of the poison, although they had never asked her to do so.

Was it something she wanted to repeat? He was still buried deep within her. She tightened her muscles, and released them absently at first, as she contemplated seriously her answer.

Slowly and irregularly she began, but soon a consistent pattern, and, assuming Kiril isn’t moaning in pain beneath her and his hands are not pinching her nipples or rolling them between his finger and thumb because he wants her to stop, she closes her eyes and licks her lips, her head tipping backward her untidy hair falling along Kiril’s shoulder his lips nuzzling, daring to slide her fingers downward, along that spot that Kiril....’oooOOoO, yes...’ she groans on top of him as her body shudders with the merest touch of her finger, her muscles tensing as it tears through her.

His arms wrap tight about her, crushing her easily into his, as his hips drill upward, another orgasm quivering through his body, his gift filling and seeping out as she feels his hot ‘poison’ burn her innards. Little waves of ecstasy shiver through them as they lay, gasping, a light sheen of perspiration coating their warm skin.

“Maybe not often, but,” she rolls on top of him, her breasts mashing into his chest, his arms moving to cradle her, then scratching lightly down her back, along her spine, cupping her butt and squeezing.

“But what, kitten?” he murmurs, his lips kissing her shoulder.

She squirms and looks down at him, their eyes adjusting to the near blackness as she did not give him time to light the lantern, still she can only see the outline of his body against the pale blanket. “But,” she smiles, her lips finding his, “I don’t think I want to say never.” She tucks her head under his chin, resting her cheek on his chest, her face flush. A heat beginning to cover her whole body as his fingers lightly tease over her naked flesh.

Snuggled thusly, lost in imaginative thoughts, they both drift to sleep comfortably, wrapped in each other’s arms.

It is Spring who wakes first. She quietly unfolds herself from his arms, and, miracles of miracles finds her shirt, pulls it on and slips silently from the room, going quickly, with a huge grin on her face, over to the area Kiril uses for his workouts. She sinks to her knees and waits for him to arrive... “Challenge me to get up early, will you?” she smiles...

o0o

Add to our repertoire?...

"Kitten, if this is not to your liking, it will stop, and I will never do this again. But if you find pleasure in it, then it can be added to our repertoire of activities. But relax, and give your body a chance to adjust," Kiril says to her softly.

As he says this, his hand has gathered more moisture from between her legs to coat his shaft with.

"I am beginning, relax melamin (my love), relax," he murmurs into her ear, bending over her bent form and he guides himself into her. As the head pushes past the ring of her anus, Spring lets out a small gasp, but no cry to stop, or of alarm. But Kiril stops momentarily anyway, before continuing to push his length into her bowels. Finally he is in as far as it's possible. Once again he pauses.

"Mela?" he asks after giving her time to adjust to the new sensation. Spring just nods her head forward, and  whispers, "Go ahead."

So he pulls back, then forward, slowly, slowly increasing the tempo of his movements.

His left hand moves to her face, cupping her chin, he gently moves her head around. "Kitten, *mibo nin (kiss me)," he says, then their lips meet, his tongue moving to engage hers in a dance of passion.

She is so tight. Spring is incredibly tight normally, but this is, is almost agonizingly tight. Kiril has to fight for control of his body.

He is plowing her quickly and deeply now, but his concerns for Spring seemed to be misplaced as she is groaning in pleasure. "Kiril!  My Warrior! Oh Gawds! Oh Gawds!"

This is too much, and he releases a torrent into her backside. He lowers himself to a sitting position (it was either that or fall down as his legs were threatening to give out on him), pulling her down with him. It's now, as she sts in his lap, with his member still erect and in her ass, that he realizes that she also had orgasmed. Her fluids are wetting his groin, flowing down to his sack.

"Spring, my love, is this something you want repeated in the future?" Kiril asks her. Holding her in a loving embrace, still erect; still ensconced inside of her.

o0o

In the dark closet...

His arms wrap around me and my tummy lurches in anticipation, his breath warms my neck, his lips soft and feather light as they trail down my neck to the crux. I press myself against his lean form, feeling the level of his eagerness pressing against the small of my back.

I giggle softly, raising my arms and clasp his head before turning to face him, his hands resting on my hips, his head tipped down. My arms wend their way around his neck, my fingertips kneading gently. Lifting up on my toes, my mouth captures his, my fingers teasing through his hair.

His hands lower and I find myself cradled in his arms, our lips never breaking apart. He begins to move and, after he stumbles once, I release his mouth and nibble his chin as we ignore the others and enter the small closet room and close the door...

He lets my legs slide smoothly down once again as his lips crush mine, our desire so intense we are tearing at each other’s clothes to remove them and feel the heat of our skin, touching.

It is dark in the room, but I remember its dimensions, its surfaces – where the blanket lay. My body throbs, my nipples firm, press into Kiril’s chest, his hands squeezing and kneading my curved derriere, sliding along the crevasse.

My lips move to flick my tongue over his nipples. Tiny and firm, they feel like buttons, shiny buttons. My tongue laves upon them, hearing his growls and groans of pleasure. “Oh Kiril, gawds, I want you so much,” my hands pull his lips to mine again, “I need you. You are my life, my stars, my being. Gee eye melons,” I whisper to him, my Elvish still woefully lacking..

His words, whispered back so softly, “I love you my mela, my kitten, my angel.” send shivers rocking me.

He backs me up until we stand on the blanket, Kiril kissing down my neck, my shoulders. Slowly he turns me, so my back is against his chest, his hands sliding up to capture my breasts in his hands, cupping them, squeezing and gently teasing the nipples to even further hardness, if that were possible!

His left hand remains tweaking my nipple while his right hand sinks to between my thighs. I wantonly part them, allowing his fingers to open my lips and strum the length of my pleasure zone...

Feeling very aroused it takes him no time until I am a massive puddle of melted honey as he brings me to an earth shattering orgasm, my thighs trembling, my flesh feeling as if it were humming.

“Bend forward, kitten,” his arm, staying wrapped around my waist, creating a fulcrum. Hesitating, I do so, feeling slightly off balance.

I feel Kiril slowly, and precisely lower me, his body exerting great control as he also bends behind me, his knees reaching the blanket before mine. “There is another way that we can experience pleasure together, my kitten and I want to show you. This like the first time, will be painful, but, again, like the first time, the pain is fleeting and the pleasure is intense,” his teeth nip my ear gently, sending a vortex of swirls colliding in my tummy!

His hands trace my buttocks, gliding along the seam, slipping until I feel his digit pressing my anus...

“Kiril?” I gasp, uncertain. 

o0o

Of Harpies and Genies...

A Harpy. Hearing about them is one thing, seeing one, well, that's quite another subject. And it was interested in me as its new paramour? No thank you. And Spring, well to say she wasn't amused is like saying it's just a little warm here in the desert during the afternoon. No, my kitten wasn't at all happy. Which warmed my heart to no end.

But in the end, we gained an ally, and avoided a confrontation that may have seen another of us on a pyre. One never knows how the tides of battle will fall. Though I still need to explain this to Alma, but that's for the morning.

But we also gained valuable information. A Genie has taken over as the chieftain of the local tribe of Gnolls that control the ruined city. A Genie. That could be much worse than the demon. And we lost Valeros to that fell creature.

I wonder if we can find more allies. We only number four, and there are, i'm afraid, plenty of Gnolls to act as a buffer for the genie. This will most likely be our most extreme challenge yet. We are all of us improving in our respective areas of expertise, but still...

Well, we can only press forward, cautiously, and do the best that we can. I say say do, not try, as try denotes a chance of failure, and I am confident that in the end, we will persevere.

In the meantime, I have a young woman who is waiting for me to finish an interrupted bit of Love making, and that is something that is entirely to important to delay any longer. I may not have the light magic active any longer on the gem, but I have a lantern and plenty of oil for it. Now where is she?

Ah, I see her.  Such a lovely sight she is, she has moved my sleeping mat next hers, making one larger mat for us both. She is just coming to her feet, and her lovely backside is in perfect profile.

Walking up behind her, I wrap my arms around her, and kiss her on the neck. "Oh kitten, we have a date to continue, come my mela (love). I already have the blankets and lantern ready. Gi melin! (I love you)"

o0o

A couple...

After dressing, but before they leave the room, Kiril takes her into his arms, "Laito cath, Gi melin. ten'oio! (Kitten, I Love you, forever!) Now let's go see who is being so rude, and why." he says, but in his eyes dances amusement.

He grabs his blanket, pockets the gem, ( Spring hears muttering about wasted investments , lost time, or some such) and opens the door for her, but keeping an arm around her waist.

Those seeing them see this. He, 6'4",  a lean, rugged, extremely fit 220 pounds, blonde of hair, blue eyes that go from light to dark, depending on his emotions, graceful, confident and self-assured in his gait, like a predatory stalking feline, and handsome features. She, 5'2", her Elvish heritage plain to see in her diminutive and slender  frame, but yet, it is evident that her figure will be much more curvy and full, due to her Human lineage in another couple of years, a mere 105 pounds, and that after a large meal and soaking wet. A pert nose, small mouth with full, very kissable lips. Emerald green eyes, and long pale blonde, nearly white hair down to her waist. She also walks with fine, delicate steps, gracefully traversing any area she passes through. Like, well, a cat. And beautiful, stunningly so.

They make a handsome couple, and a couple they indeed are, as any seeing them together can now easily deduce!

o0o

Ídhron cened i chenθeg n'i *gellog...

His arms close about her, his flesh touching hers burning his imprint against her. Her eyes dampen again as his words flow across her so elegantly. Her mind opens and some of his speech, the parts in Elven she begins to translate in her mind. “Gi melin, [I love you],” she whispers against his chest, lifting her head to look into the deep blue of his eyes. “Gi melin...” His head tilts and Spring lifts her lips to his...

Their mouths meet and Spring lifts on her toes, pressing firmly, her arms sliding up his torso, to his shoulders, her fingers tangling in his long hair, tugging his head down to hers.

Her breasts crush against his chest, tingling as they fill, engorged with a life of their own, her nipples like daggers. His arms wrap around her, cupping her bottom, kneading her taut globes.

A thrill runs along her spine and she whispers in his ear, “You have brought me so much; taught me, please, may I suck the poison from your snake? Sevin dhâf gîn an laved i *'wî gîn? [can I lick your penis?]”

Not waiting for his answer she slides her body down his, her lips kissing his flesh as she lowers to her knees, her fingers trailing lightly down his skin.

Her lips kissed his abdomen, and around the base, her tongue flicking randomly. Her hands clasp his hips, her fingers tapping erratically on his rock-hard rump. Her mind tries both to ignore the reason she is so good at this and the lessons she’d been taught, while expanding, letting his reaction to her movements guide her.

Licking up from the base, to his smooth, toadstool-shaped tip, drawing her nails along the underside of his scrotum followed by her wet tongue as it wraps around and suckles, kissing the bulging flesh.

Spring licked his shaft up and down, several times, her fingers fluttering between his thighs, capturing his sacs and gently massaging them as they fill and hardened, her lips caressing them, her hot mouth engulfing them, suckling as her fingers dance across Kiril’s chest, softly circling his pecs, flicking her thumb nail over one nipple, then the other, smiling shyly as his sharp intake of breath gives her courage.

She opens her mouth wide, her eyes looking up into his, as she takes his head into her mouth, her tongue swirling along the tip, sucking as she draws it deeper into her throat... her nails scratch lightly up and down his cock, her fingers teasing his balls, his ass. His cock easily hits the back of her throat and he groans as she swallows, closing her throat tight against his rock hard sword, before releasing it, only to repeat the action again and again.

He groans his hips moving of their own accord, sliding his member in and out of her mouth, he shudders, barely stopping his load from shooting as her tongue grabs his balls, one at a time, then both, as she swallows his cock deep in her throat. She gently massages his pole, his body shaking.

She opens her eyes and looks up at him, her mind willing the thought, Ídhron cened i chenθeg n'i *gellog [I want to see your eyes when you cum...]...

She can hear his rapid gasps and sharp exclamations, his thoughts eluding him as he grips the back of her head, pressing it against is belly pumping short, fast strokes feeling her throat open and close around his pulsing appendage until he stops, a pause; fleeting as his hot cum hits the back of her throat, his blue-eyes gazing into her deep-green ones, her throat eliminating the ‘poison’ easily, gently licking his softening baton before pressing her cheek against his thigh, hugging him tightly.

He sinks to his knees, his lips finding hers, his hands running up and down her naked back...

No sooner have their lips met when they hear the drum call to attention...

Spring and Kiril, together groan their frustration, “As long as we have I pledge myself to you Kiril,” Spring whispers so softly... "Gi vethor veleg [my mighty warrior]..." They lethargically gather their clothes, Kiril kissing Spring’s buttock as she bends to retrieve her shirt...

o0o

Timing, good and bad...

"Your timing is impeccable!" Kiril murmurs into her ear. "I arranged for a little surprise." He reaches down, taking her hand in his.

Leading her to the wall where the hidden door that lead to the secret room that we had found some days earlier, he trips the release, and they enter. "Close the door," he says softly to her, releasing her hand. As she turns closing the door, enclosing them in darkness, he pulls out the small gem that he had taken as a share of the loot a couple of days before. The same gem that he had the cleric Zastoran cast a spell of light on just a quarter hour before, in exchange for a few coins.

"I was concerned when you weren't in your sleeping area, as you haven't been an early riser. But I see that your hair is damp, so I surmise you were exercising or bathing, perhaps both. If you would like, you could train with me in the morning, if you can rise that early," he grins at her, the implicit challenge in that last remark.

"But this spell won't last all that long, and so..." he unbuckles his sword belt, laying it down on the ground. Shirt comes next, followed by the boots. By this time, Spring has seen that a blanket, his blanket is already spread out on the ground. Then she pulls off her shirt. Kiril's head spins. The sight of her bare chest is enough to have him stop and just stare. Seeing her in the light is definitely appealing!

"You are enchanting, did you know that? he breaths out huskily. He moves the couple of steps, gathering her in his arms. "Ni melig? Do you love me?" He repeats in the common tongue, "Gi melin; [I love you]."

Before she can answer, he says, "Spring, whether you do, or not, doesn't change my feelings. I will never hurt you, will strive to always be there for you. But our occupation, as we are only to aware from Valeros's death, is dangerous. We don't know how long before either of us follow the path he now treads. I want to give you a lifetime of Love before that may happen.

"Ned i postog a nin, ni bant. Which means, When you lay beside me, I am complete. Let us share our passions while we may." He shakes his head ruefully, grinning. "Damn, I have spent too much time with Elves, can't stop talking like them," his grin widens.

o0o

Elocution Lessons soon...

His elation turns to desolation as he sees the mat empty.

He doesn’t have long to wait, or wonder, Blaze’s almost muted ‘caw’ as he swoops through the roof’s missing skylight, landing gracefully on the arch overhead, gives away the presence of his mistress, and Kiril sees a shadow, that can only be Spring, enter the conservatory.

Spring steps silently through the quiet monastery, stretching and shaking her quivering muscles from their morning run. This morning she’d awoke alone. Her mind and body once again alive and being tugged in so many directions.

At first she felt a profound sadness at finding herself alone. Only until her mind conjured up a vision of Kiril, his muscles straining, his blades flashing – she shivered, “Yes, I will have to be disciplined as he is. No laziness for me.” At that thought, she pulled off her nightshirt, pulled on her day shirt, and found her path around the building, her elation, that she can’t quite explain, bursts forth and she can’t stop herself from exploding into a full run, her bare feet gripping the sand and avoiding the sharp stones, the guards shaking their heads as she lops passed.

Four circuits later, breathing hard, Spring makes her way to the wash area, stripping, and dipping up a bowl of cool water, and using a sliver of lye soap from a large block sitting on a shelf, she wipes the sour smell from her skin. “This too!” she grimaces as she sniffs her shirt, before plunging the white–now–greyish shirt into the bowl of water, scrubbing until it’s as clean as its ever going to get. “I wonder if there is a seamstress in the crowd? – I could really use a new blouse.”

Dumping the filthy water, washing the bowl and rinsing the cloth replacing it on the round rod to dry, Spring pulls the wet, dripping blouse on and heads back to her things. “I’ll change into the night one while this dries.” She nods to Penladan as he makes his way out for his morning routine and shushes Blaze as he swoops down the hall and out.

She looks up as she enters the conservatory, the dawn light weakly chasing the darkness away, and sees Kiril, his rugged form backlit by what little light there is. Her heart jumps and that funny feeling clenches her stomach. She wants to run and throw herself into his arms. She starts to, then hesitates, her emotions cutting off her thoughts before they form into complete sentences.

She continues walking to him, unconsciously swaying her hips, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. She slows to a near stop when she is a few feet away, uncertainty, nervousness both serving to worry that maybe she was reading too much into his actions...

She looks at him, her eyes meeting his and dropping away as an unaccountable fear plummets into her stomach. Her eyes blur and she blinks fast before they can drip. Her body tenses and then soars as he steps forward, his arm wrapping around her much smaller frame, his lips brushing her temple. “De veleth e-guil nîn.” [You are the love of my life.]

“Anton vela then and gin, [I give you my love],” she murmurs, once again hearing his low-rumble as he chuckles, squeezing her tighter.

“Elocution lessons, soon ci velethrilen, [my love].”

o0o

Contemplation...

Waking, as usual, well before the dawn, Kiril is pleased to see Spring laying spooned to him, She looks so beautiful, like an angel, he thinks.

He would love to wake her, and continue exploring her sexual charms, but Sandstorms are notorious for sapping one's energy reserves. Like his. He doesn't remember falling asleep, barely remembers laying down.

But, he feels the need instead to express his gratitude in being alive, at having steadfast companions, albeit, one is new, but he is confident she will prove to be one as well. But mostly for finding the treasure that is his Love, Spring. Then grinning to himself, he musses, "I do believe I've come down with Spring Fever!".

So, this morning, he kisses Spring on the lips, whispers to her "Sleep Well Mela en' coiamin (Love of my Life)!", and gathers his blade, which for some reason he has decided to rename "Tempest", as it just feels right, and makes his way silently to the newly cleaned shrine to Seranrae.

"Divine one, I don't count myself among your flock, but I respect and honor your ways. And here in these lands, you hold sway, so I wish to express my gratitude at the blessings that you show to my companions and myself. I have you in my thoughts and heart."

Finished with his prayers, he does what he usually does, goes out to the desert.

Ending up at his usual training area, he strips down, using sand to cleanse his body, then contemplates his life.

"Valeros, a valued, hearty companion. Though he played on Spring's naivety, which would have most likely caused a confrontation if he had lived. Still I will miss him. Penladan, introspective, brooding, and hard to figure. Still, he is a game fighter, and can be trusted when things get dicey. Constance, or Connie as she likes to be called. Don't know yet, but I feel that she will turn into another trusted and faithful person to call friend. Then there is Spring, so unexpected, but so welcome. My life is irrevocably changed, and I wouldn't want any other way. My heart is lost to her. ENOUGH! Practice!"

And Kiril becomes a blur of motion as he moves, slashes, tumbles. kicks and punches , As the sun starts to finally crest, hr stops, scrubs again, dresses, and heads back in. And he goes looking for a certain young Sorceress, and he is smiling.

o0o

Sand Devil...

Gritty sand and howling winds are starting to find their way into the monastery. “Kiril,” she worries.

             

She wipes the grain of sand lodged in her eye and her heart jumps when Kiril slips under the arch. Shyly, she wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight as he crouches to help her secure her meagre belongings. "Is it bad?" she asks, as they batten down.

             

Her things secure, they move to his and then proceed to help Connie and Dan, and the others, packing every living thing into the sanctuary, where they are assured they will best weather the storm. Spring looks at Blaze. "Well, come on," she spits out a few more grains of grit. "Get that feathered butt in there." She pictures him soaring into the sanctuary, hovering over Dashki, and, "Don't you dare, Blaze!" She laughs.

             

As the heavy door is drawn closed the sand is already whipped up; swirling. Taking their places near the front they sit to await the end of the storm, wondering if there will be anything NOT buried in the sand as it howls like the banshees themselves are out there.

             

The ground shaking and subsequent ripping of the heavy wooden door open releasing the fury of sand upon those hiding behind benches and the pulpit, is enough to send everyone into a screaming panic. More frightening is the large beast expecting entrance. Spring's heart sinks. She is sitting nearest the beast, she must face it first... and the wind is at his back.

             

The encounter is on. Connie, Dan, Kiril and Spring wrestle mightily to bring down this beast while battling churning sand and howling winds. Closing the door as the creature collapses, gasping and coughing, Spring seeks out Kiril and, sitting next to him, grips his hand, squeezing it, leans her head on his shoulder, her back against his side, his arm protectively around her. The storm shrieks, the wind’s whistle nearing deafening levels. Talking is impossible. (Well, actually, talking is possible, it is hearing that is the miracle.)

             

Spring looks for Connie and finds her a few feet away. She looks to her side and sees Dan. She reaches out and squeezes his upper arm, Kiril nudging them closer together. They close their eyes, keep their faces covered, and wait.

             

It seems a long while until the storm passes, but it does with all the fury it had when it descended, leaving sand dunes inside the monastery and changing the landscape outside yet again.

             

It is a long day of shovelling sand. Night time brings millions of glittering stars, a moon the size of the earth, and really cold temperatures. Sleep, blissfully, claims them all swiftly... Spring grinning from ear to ear as Kiril drags his belongings over to her area when they swept out the mountains of sand earlier, curls contentedly with Kiril’s solid chest against her back and his one arm her pillow, the other over her waist, his hand tucked in her ribs, his head resting on hers... snoring...

o0o

It's going to be a bad one...

Kiril, feeling the impending sandstorm, rushes back to the monastery. Thankfully, he was already redressed, when the sky turned black in the early morning sky.

And his first thought? Spring! Protect Spring.

The alarm is already being raised, and the place is in a turmoil of activity as people start to secure items before moving into the main temple area to wait out the blow. As he moves through the people, rushing here and there in frantic haste, he narrowly avoids being run into by Dashki. Not trusting him before, but now knowing that he has also duped Spring, he quickly grabs him by an arm. Squeezing, hard, very hard, he hisses at him, "Never go near her again!"

"Who? Dashki replies, trying to shake off Kiril's grip unsuccessfully.

Eyeing the man with utter disdain, and clearly evident loathing, he says, "You think your clever, and you might be, somewhat. But your not as smart  as you believe if you think I will not take your head if you approach her again. Only because our employer still has a use for you has let me allow you the privilege of still drawing breath". As he says this, his hand continues to c;amp down, in a crushing grip.

Then, with a shove Kiril releases his grip, and continues to the courtyard.

Upon entering the courtyard, he sees that she is away from where he had left her, and back to her own sleeping mat.

"This is going to be a bad one, we must hurry, It is coming on us with unnatural speed" he says loudly for all three of his companions to hear, but his eyes are on Spring as he does.

Moving to her, he helps her secure her belongings, before attending to his own. He is gratified to see her accompany him and assist with his bedding and pack.  He softly says to Spring as she helps him, "Good morning. I hope you slept well. And please know that your place is with me, if you desire it. I desire nothing more in this world than that!" Noticing the rosy hue of the blush that started when he mentioned her sleeping, or lack there of, he can't help but grin.

Connie and Penladan are done with their possessions by this time too.

Out of time for anything else to be said, the ever-mounting ferocity only too evident as the edge of the storm hits.

An errant gust brings a mouthful of sand into Kiril's mouth, and lungs, as the four of them join the rest of the encampment in the temple, slamming the doors shut and barring them.

o0o

Spring awakens...

Yawning, stretching her muscles, Spring blinks a few times. Her body tingles and a warm blush spreads over her entire body as she replays every delicious moment of the night. She blushes again when she recalls the noise that erupted from her. Biting her lip, she rolls to find Kiril gone. She frowns, disappointed.

Her eyes blinking at the gritty, dry tinge of daybreak, Blaze screeches, dipping into and down, off to the side, dive-bombing? 

She perceives a shadow slipping around the corner. Instantly on her feet, mindless of her lack of attire, she bounds to the hall where she nearly bumps into Dashki, Blaze pecking at his head, swooping and flapping those strong wings.

“Blaze!” She both thinks and utters aloud. The bird swoops and she watches him flip and soar through the opening in the roof, turning a full circle before gliding back to land on the arch overhead, keeping a close eye on them.

“Did someone just run by you?” she asks, peering past him, wondering what Blaze is up to?

             

“No, no one at all. A rodent perhaps,” he concedes, his mouth watering as he stares at the vision in front of him. Noticing his gaze, she frowns in disgust, spins around and starts to walk off. “I do have a problem, though my dear. One you have been gifted to eliminate? If you’re finished with Kiril?” he suggests.

Spring turns, Dashki’s hand holding his ‘problem’. “You filthy vile toad!” Her eyes flashing, her fingers curling, short nails biting into her palms. She surmises he has spied on them. Giving a short-snort, she mocks, “Aww, poor worm all filled with poison?” She can’t help herself, she blasts an icy patch on the ground in front of him. The accompanying crackle and ‘pop’ startles him. 

He hops back. “My dear...” 

“You won’t be requiring my services any longer, Dashki, but I, we, will require yours. You will provide us with information as we require and you will speak of our conversation to no one.” Her eyes narrow, meeting his darker, stormy ones without wavering. “I may not be able to best you should we wage war, but I will inform the Priestess of your nightly sojourns toward the city...”

He startles, thinking no one has seen him. Truthfully, Spring only saw him go once, she’s guessing, and judging by his reaction, she feels she is correct.

His face hardening, without a word, he turns and stomps away, a backward glance, “If looks could kill, ‘eh, Dashki,” she daringly taunts, waiting until he is out of sight before returning to her corner, and remembering her mat is on the other side of the room.

Delighted she didn’t back down (although her insides quake), she returns to acquire her mat, blankets and nightshirt, coughing as the winds start to swirl. “Dust storm is coming,” she thinks, pulling her blouse over her head, hoping Kiril sees the change in the atmosphere and doesn’t get caught out in it.

She watches the entrances for Kiril while she finishes packing her belongings, straightening her mat and blankets, returning them to her corner. Shyly she wonders if she should leave them next to Kiril’s, but insecurities win-out.

She sits down on her mat, crossing her legs, her ankles on her thighs, her hands clasped in her lap as she empties her mind and clears her thoughts, wrapping her mouth and nose in a cloth.

She does have to start over when her mind keeps focussing on Dashki and her particular dislike for the odious fellow. Then it focuses on her nocturnal adventures and a soft smile plays upon her lips. The pleasant memory entices her to relax and soon she finishes her meditation, brushes her long hair with a boar’s bristle brush she made when she was younger, braids it, and spies Kiril entering the room. A swell of pride washes over her and tears prick the insides of her eyes as she watches him. ...Until the Priestess begins to shout, her foghorn voice bringing warnings of an impending sand storm.

Sighing in frustration, Spring dresses quickly, feeling sticky and decidedly unclean. She can sense the tiny particles churning already.

“A bath. I really want a bath... and someone to wash my back,” she smiles surreptitiously at Kiril...

o0o

Forever is not long enough...

Raising his head, looking down at Spring, Kiril is moved to a depth of emotion he never dreamed of. “I love you, will always love you,” he softly whispers to her. Spring is already asleep. She is at peace.

He had watched all of his companions since joining up with them. He had heard her restlessness night after night. Now for the first time, she seems content. Maybe she will return his love. He prays that it will be so.

And then he remembers her attempt to respond to his endearment in Elven and has to sternly fights the urge to laugh. “It's just too cute!” he thinks to himself, his powerful frame quivering with suppressed laughter. The tremors finally subside, and thankfully without waking her.

“Seriously need to help her with her Elven,” he murmurs lowly to the night. And he lays his head back while reaching for the blanket. Drawing the blanket over them, making sure that she is fully covered from the chill desert night, he warmly kisses the top of her head, his arms wrapping themselves around her. His roughened, calloused hands gently caress her, while he murmurs softly, so softly to her, in Common this time as perhaps she might hear and understand, even while she sleeps.

“My love, forever is not long enough to love you.
I yearn for your kisses, your touch.
Forever is all that I can promise you.
Until the end I shall provide a haven in my arms.
I am yours, my love, forever!”

As he starts to drift off to sleep himself, he prays. “Gozreh, watch this one please. She is special, Iomedae, you who shines your Glory for all to see in the sun, we are under your gaze, Surely you see that her innocence and honesty is worth cherishing, as I do. I beseech thee, grant your Divine blessings to her. Irori, as I seek to perfect my skills, know that it is so I can protect her. Without her, I will have no need, no desire to continue following the Way, extend your hand to her, I humbly ask of you. Nethys, she is of your Arts, And, as I have honored you through my songs, I ask that you extend your protection to her. And lastly Serenrae, your temple is here, and now re-established. I shall do all I can to ensure its sanctity while I may. Perhaps you can lend the aid of one of your angels to keep  watch over her? She is worthy,  more so of any others that I know to receive your aid.”

Hands finally quieting, one cupping a breast, the other resting on her shapely derriere, A smile on his lips, Kiril falls asleep.

But like usual, he wakes a few hours before the sun does. Gently he disengages himself from a still peacefully sleeping Spring. Tucking her securely under the blanket, he places a kiss on her lips.

Gathering his sword, and putting on his pants, he looks at the sleeping forms of Pendalan and Connie, whispering a soft, “Sorry,” to them, as he remembers the ruckus that Spring and he produced during the evening. Not at all sorry that they had become lovers, but at the disturbance that their activities would have caused.

Looking up, he sees Blaze watching him from the top of the southern courtyard wall. “Watch her carefully please. Come to me if there is trouble.”

Kiril then leaves, moving through the quiet building as quietly as he can, which is quiet indeed.

A few minutes later, when he is outside in his usual training area, he strips back down, and scrubs himself clean with sand, before gracefully folding down to a lotus position.

He meditates, prepares himself for his exercises. Once he has achieved a suitable state of mind, he literally explodes out of his position on the ground, and moving at full speed, slashes out at an imaginary foe. And he continues, whirling, tumbling, flowing. One move begets another, His style of combat, that of a series of flowing movements, and lethal strikes. As he has already proven, the style is very effective. What he hits, knows it was hit. If it survives, of course. But as Jessaril had also told him, this need to always be moving necessitates light armors only, so he himself, though elusive, just won't have much protection from return blows from a hard pressed melee.

Thinking of Jess, he says to himself. “Blessing to you Jess. Your teaching me the crafts of war are paying off. And your patience in teaching me how to make love to a woman, well, priceless. You did say that there was someone special waiting to be found. Well, I found her. You'd like her Jess. And she is special. Very special. Beautiful, warm, loving. A little to trusting perhaps, but gifted with a wit and intelligence while still being fragile. All together a mixture of naive innocence and no-nonsense approach to solving problems. And I already know that I will give my life up, if it keep her alive and well. Yes Jess, you were right yet again. I did find her. I do not yet know if she will return my love, but she owns mine.”

Standing still now, still naked, Kiril looks at the red tinged but slowly, if steadily, lightening darkness in the Eastern sky, he prepares to greet the the rising sun. And he is smiling.

o0o

Melee and combing...

Stars still twinkling, reflecting Kiril's face - he looks so joyful, Spring shivers, every nerve in her body throbbing. She senses an almost feral emergence undulate over him as he shifts over her, rolling them until she faces upward, arching her spine as his cock drives inside of her, drawing mewls from her open mouth, his body hovering over hers, rubbing his rough chest onto her sensitive nipples, their pointed tips extending as they make contact, the blood swelling them to near pain.

"Gawds!" she cries out as he raises her leg until she has them wrapped around his waist; his hips, his 'snake' driving deeper, her muscles contracting instinctively, gripping, the rocking motion seeming to please him as much as her, his breathing becoming shallow – her nipples scrape his chest, the peaks so engorged – the tingles in her groin, his hard cock stretching her – she is barely able to pant as the rip-tide begins to flow over her, the crashing, ebb and surge – the silence of the sandstorm released rushing in her ears.

Kiril’s lips locking with hers capturing her whimpers; her mewls of enjoyment as she feels the poison erupt inside her, searing deep within her belly, her strong-thighs gripping Kiril as energetic waves roll over her being. His own shudders in tandem with hers, his endearing whispers warming her; his lips nuzzling her neck, her throat.

His fingertips trail along her receptive flesh, and she alternately squirms from his touch and presses against it, goose bumps guiding her mindless moans. When his finger lightly wisps across her nether lips, (its calloused surface strange, in contrast to her soft, nearly hairless skin eliciting another groan), and slides between her folds, her hips rise wantonly and press eagerly into his digit.

"Oh, gawds, Kiril..." her throaty growls embolden him, he slides atop of her.

Her eyes open wide as she watches him scamper, leaving wet kisses down her stomach and abdomen until his whispers floating to her bliss-filled ears. She gulps as she fathoms his intentions, her thoughts swirling, like a spell caught in a whirlpool’s vortex.

He holds her eyes as his hands clasp her foot and twist her leg, manoeuvring it to his lips, his short beard-stubbles tickling. His lips caress her instep, down to her toes and up along her calves, his teeth grazing, eliciting contrasting gasps and mewls. Staring in wonder at how her foot; her leg! can cause so many sensations to run riot through her mind – the colourful explosions bursting with each touch of his mouth, his tongue, his lips...

Gasping, her eyes rolling back, her fingers stretching and contracting, moving of their own volition to knead her breasts, aching with a tenderness she doesn't understand. Her fingers pluck at the nubs in concert with Kiril's mouth; his tongue, as he educates her body's potential, his tongue bathing her legs so sensuously her skin prickles like it’s on fire and she never wants it to go out!

Her eyes fly open again and she briefly gazes into his eyes before shuddering, her head dropping back, her mouth open, her hips rising, pressing against his mouth, his tongue tracing the apex between her thighs. "Oh gawds, Kiril," she breathes, her frosty breath rising to the rafter, her fingers unable to stop crushing and tweaking her breasts.

"Kiril!" she inhales loudly as his tongue folds around her pearl.

Unable to lie still, her head thrashes from side to side, her fingers reach to caress his head and wind themselves in his fair hair, urging him deeper, her groans warm the air around them.

Taut like a bow-string, her legs suddenly flail and close tight, nearly crushing Kiril's head. “Oh gawds,” her pleasure gushes. “Oh gawds; oh gawds...”

Her mind blown, shooting stars erupt in, what used to be, her wits... Colourful explosions shooting up the black backdrop of her brain, unable to control the firing order as sprinkles of glitter-like tints shatter and shower to earth. She gradually descends with them.

Her fingers, clutching his hair, relax; his hands, (having hastily cupped the insides of her smooth-thighs as her muscles clamped, vise-like, around his throat preventing her from asphyxiating him), now loosen as she slowly returns to this plane, her body weak as a newborn.

Tears trickle from the corners of her eyes. She feels overwhelmed; her mind blown, she mouths words that have no meaning; guttural sounds, uttering. His arms close around her, her hands fidgeting, move themselves along his body, his back; grasping.

Her panting, harsh, her body glistening, her lips press into his shoulder, kissing, his torso, twitching against him.

Her legs open and wrap around him as she becomes aware of his hardness, her fingers sliding between them, closing around his throbbing, rock-hard pillar, stroking up and down, heeding Kiril’s gasps. She guides his manhood to her sopping opening and presses, sliding it in just a bit.

Kiril groans and rolls her over, impaling her again, as she rides his stroking appendage her nipples brushing his lips, her hands on the ground on either side of his head, her feet press against the ground, her bent legs moving her torso up and down.

Eyes closed, her tongue darts out to moisten her lips, Kiril's hands clasp around her waist, unexpectedly, squeezing, as his seed, again, warms her channel; his rough breath and swift jar of his hips rising, and pressing her waist downward, causes Spring's innards to contract, clasping Kiril, gripping tightly and tenderly releasing, grip, release, her own hips rolling forward. Sitting upright, her naked torso riding his girth squeezing, milking his now softening member. Swaying, she leans down, her body laying along his, their breathing slowing.

He shifts slightly, cradling her along his side, her one arm pressed around his neck, her other resting on his chest, her lips tenderly kissing his chest.

Her eyes slowly close, her lips murmuring to Kiril. Sensing she is destroying the beautiful language, she reverts to common, "I believe no one could be as fortunate as me... Kiril; my desire, my fear, my life..."

She kisses his skin lightly before lifting her head, her eyes burning in the darkness, her teeth biting her lip, "Melee and combing," her tongue twists the language inside out. She listens to his chuckle as she lowers her head back to his chest, her eyes closing tiredly.

Yawning, she whispers, to herself, ‘I think I'm in love.’ Her arms tighten around Kiril, happily relaxing, feeling both, safe and secure, something she hasn't in a very long time...

She hears Blaze screech and contentment, again, fills her. She drifts to sleep, her last thoughts, memories of shadows that were her parents, fill her with sadness... She snuggles Kiril tightly...

o0o

As you wish...

When he hears the words, "Can we do that again? Pretty please?" the smile that lights up his face could rival the very sun.

He doesn't say anything. Instead, Kiril acts on her plea. Grasping her firmly, he rolls them both over. Smiling even brighter than before at the widening of her eyes, he thrusts his still very erect, very hard self forward, impaling himself inside her hot wetness. Not harshly, but firmly.

Making sure to leave his left arm under her slight, but, oh, so firm, body, keeping her back arched, and thereby causing her breasts to be thrust higher, he sets a steady rhythm, Increasing the pace with an ever increasing tempo.

Then he says in her ear, "Lift your legs up," and his right hand slides from her hip, down her leg to her calf. Lifting the leg, he wraps it around his waist. As she understands, and joins her other leg, crossing her ankles instinctively, he drives even deeper, filling her completely with each thrust. In addition, he makes sure
to have his chest, slide over her upturned breasts, keeping the nipples stimulated. Not continuously, as that could irritate instead, but occasionally.

Seeing her hyperventilating, and the flushing of her face and neck, the spasms around his engorged manhood, he realizes she is about there again, and he loosens his own control, just to be one with her. As they climax together, moaning into each other's now lip-locked mouths, Kiril manages to murmur, “Mela en' coiamin" (Love of my life). Collapsing on top of her, he rolls himself to her side, nuzzling her neck and ear, teasing her with kisses, mere flicks of his tongue, and little nips and sucks to her earlobe.

As she starts to squirm again, he raises himself on his elbow, looking down at her. His other hand meanwhile is trailing his fingertips over her stomach and breasts, before finally sliding down, all the way down, until his calloused fingers are teasing, then gently sliding between her legs.

Unconsciously Spring opens herself to the pleasant sensations. A smile crosses Kiril's face, and before Spring knows what he is doing, he has moved himself to a kneeling position between her legs.

At her questioning look, and the, “Wha,” that she starts to say, “It is time for you to receive the same service that you had previously been tricked into doing. But I am not tricked, and I will show you pleasure upon pleasure. I promise! And I think, hope, you will be able to understand the difference between the act when not understanding, and when it is a conscious act of Love.”

Not seeing or hearing anything negative from her, he reaches his right hand out to her left leg, and moves his hand down her flank until he grasps her delicate foot, lifting the foot, bending the shapely leg,he brings her foot around until its before his face.


Holding her foot in both hands, he wets his lips with his tongue, never taking his eyes from hers, he then puckers his lips and kisses the arch of her foot, with a bit of tongue added in.

Hearing the gasp escape from her, he continues. Over the next couple of minutes, he slowly kisses, licks, and sometimes lightly nips her flesh, from her foot, down the back and inside of her calf, then, behind her knee, down the back and inside of her thigh. Finally, he is outside of her long sought for pleasure center. Now his hands are once more massaging and probing as he traces his lips and tongue around and over her clitoris. His teeth, not to be left out of the feast, lightly tease her too.

Seeing that he is having trouble holding Spring's thrashing, twisting body, even with his not inconsiderable strength. And as far as not waking others, her shrieks of pleasure would require a spell of silence to censure at this point. And Kiril, doesn't care about others right now anyway.

No. she is what matters. All that matters.

And seeing. hearing her in the throes of passion has made him hard enough, that he feels as if he will burst. He has never been happier!

o0o