This put him in a near trance of ardour, he leaned into the caresses like a cat,
it felt as if he would start purring any time. He reached for the breast he was not lying on, stroking it, feeling its soft weight in his hand. With my other hand, I started to give his other horn base the same caresses as the first, and it seemed he could hardly contain the feeling this gave him.
I felt his penis rise against my thigh, and I spread my legs to give him access to his release, which he promptly took, taking care to keep his proud horns within my reach. Feeling his penetration inside me again, I shared the ecstasy he was experiencing. He bent over slightly to take one of my nipples in his mouth, the whole top of my breast, gently sucking it, and licking the tip with his tongue. That sharp feeling reached right down, further and further, and when it met the place where his penis touched me inside, I exploded in the strongest high I had had so far. Feeling that high slowly ebb, flaring up with every one of his thrusts, I felt completely sated. Lukas now released my breast, and sat up straighter in his furious action.
No longer able to reach his horns, I stroked his chest, his arms, his shoulders.
Where did he get that energy? How could the small amount he ate ever become even a thin layer of fat if he spent it immediately on making love frantically? I just knew he needed this more than food, so I stopped thinking and enjoyed his release.
This time, he lay next to me, truly spent now, our bodies touching, limbs entwined. We kissed some more, but we mainly just lay there, enjoying the silence.
Chapter 6
He soon fell asleep, still low on energy I guessed, so I picked up one of the books and sat on the bed next to his sleeping form. The book was interesting, explaining where magic energy came from and how talented people could manipulate it. I read for a few hours, trying to understand what I read, and writing down questions for Paul.
When Lukas woke up, we showered together, and I decided to wear one of my dresses instead of my usual skirt and bodice. Lukas was watching me dress, and I'm sure that if he had not been sated totally not three hours ago, he would have jumped me again. 'Are you dressing up to convince Paul to make his love for you physical?' he asked.
I answered: 'Yes I am, does that make you jealous?' Looking at me questioningly he said: 'What's jealous?' That made me want to hug him, but I was sure that if I did that, we'd never make it to dinner. So I told him I couldn't explain quickly, and that it was better not to know the feeling anyway.
He added: 'If he sees you in that dress and still won't make love to you, he must be a machine instead of a man. You look like a goddess.' I took heart from his certainty of my success, for I did not feel nearly as sure. Paul was a very disciplined fellow, he could be dying of love and still not act on it, I feared.
But still I said: 'Thank you love, every woman wants to be compared to a goddess. Hair up, in a tail, or down?' His answer was clear: 'Down of course.
He'll want to touch it, it looks like molten copper. If he won't, he must really be made of steel.'
Looking in the mirror, despite my realization how beautiful I really was, that was exactly what I was afraid of.
I convinced Lukas he really needed to wear clothes when visiting, so he chose a shirt and a pair of trousers and put them on. He wore them well, not looking as uncomfortable as he must have felt. His hooves looked cute, peeping from under the pant-legs. His tail was just a small bump under his
shirt, hardly noticeable
Only the horns really betrayed his alienness. As we were ready to go, I took his arm and we went downstairs. I knocked on the door, and after a short time, Paul opened the door.
His face became a study in stunned amazement when he saw me. I'd never worn a dress in his presence, and he had clearly never really looked at me as a woman before. He did now.
The artist in him could not be immune to my perfect form, usually hidden in practical clothing. I saw it in his posture, in his face, he wanted to touch me, feel my glorious hair, run his hands through it, caress my perfectly symmetrical curves, bury his face in my luscious cleavage.
But he didn't. He didn't even hug me or kiss me, he just gently took my hand with both of his and kissed it gallantly, saying: 'Melissa, you are so beautiful you stopped my heart there for a second.' Then he shook hands cordially with Lukas, addressing him in Greek.
I could clearly see that Lukas did not understand Paul's behaviour at all. He stammered a greeting back, but he looked like he had been hit with a hammer. In his culture it must have been the worst sin to nearly die of admiration for someone and then deny it so totally.
In our society it was proof of total self control, mind over body, a sign of manliness if you please, but in his it must have been a gross rudeness and probably very unhealthy. I took his hand to comfort him, he was really upset, but at the same time I did feel a bit rejected by Paul's behaviour Still, he had made it clear he needed more time, and I had promised myself I would stick it out, so I would.
I'd explain it to Lukas later, and maybe share a little love with him to relieve both our feelings. For now, Lukas would not be able to dwell on them, for Paul invited us to enter his palace. I suspected he must have been more used to riches than I was, for he was not stunned with admiration of the total, but rather very much interested in the detail.
He studied the wood panelling, the stairs, the mosaic floor with so much patience, that Paul and I got a little restless and went ahead. Paul said something to him, and I heard the answer: 'Sure, I'll see you in the kitchen.
You don't mind my hanging back?'
Paul said something in Greek again, and then him and me walked into the lovely kitchen.
Alone, Paul showed a little more feeling, saying: 'Melissa, have you any idea what you're doing to me looking like that?' I decided to play it cool as well, and replied: 'The idea was to have you fall at my feet and worship me.'
'Well, you nearly succeeded in that, it took my utmost discipline to act casually. I thought we had agreed to just be friends until you had your talent under control?' he said in a pained voice. 'No, you decided that, because you were afraid to get hurt,' I retorted, 'I'd rather take the risk, loving someone is always a risk.'
He clearly didn't want to discuss it any further, he had trouble looking at me but also couldn't keep his eyes off me. He nearly whispered: 'I didn't realize you were so beautiful.' There had been way too much talk already, and this wasn't helping. I said: 'I'll respect it if you don't want to become intimate with me, but don't expect me to start acting like a stranger.'
And I took him in my arms and leaned against him, resting my head on his chest. It was so good to smell him again, and feel his strong body. I felt him tense at first, then give himself over to me, allowing himself to enjoy this little bit of intimacy.
We stood there, with me imagining him on top of me, stark naked, thrusting his manhood deep inside me, the thought giving me an instant thrill of intense lust. What he felt I don't know, but the way he clung to me proved it was not indifference. He even dared running his hands through my hair, saying: 'I've tried polishing copper to this sheen, but I couldn't do it.'
When Lukas came in, Paul released me instantly. But Lukas of course did not claim me, and he was very happy to see me where I desperately wanted to be.
Still, his entrance was the end of our little bit of intimacy, but it had been enough.
Lukas and I sat down at the table with a cup of tea, and Paul busied himself with food, listening to Lukas' praise of his workmanship and taste whilst he prepared a meal in the same way as yesterday, only with Greek style cheese instead of meat, and a lot more oil. Apparently Paul thought Lukas needed to eat some fat to gain weight.
Lukas did understand without being told that Paul had made all of this, every little detail, with his own hands, and he was clearly very much impressed. He said: 'You are clearly a gifted craftsman, even an artist, as well as a highly ranking magician. No wonder you have little time to spend on women.'
Of co
urse this was meant as an allusion to Paul's rejection of my blatant
attempts to get him to bed me, but Paul reacted quite embarrassedly, apparently understanding it the wrong way, and thereby revealing more than he would have wanted. I filed that new knowledge away for future use, and waited to hear what Paul would reply, of course depending on his own translation of what he said: 'Thank you, I think.'
Lukas had more observations about the house, having compared it to my apartment as well, and seen the differences in spaces. He also professed a great interest in seeing Paul's workshop, where all those beautiful things had been designed and crafted. Of course, Paul was happy to offer him a tour of the workshop tomorrow, during my working hours.
I worked mornings on the sites of the buildings I inspected, then usually spent some more hours calculating and drawing at home, in preparation for the next day. It was a great job, giving me plenty of freedom and quite an adequate salary. It also would enable me to study magic with Paul for a few hours each day.
Then, dinner was ready and we sat and ate, talking about Lukas' people and their customs, and about our Victorian customs. Paul said everything in two languages, Lukas and I both spoke our own.
Lukas enjoyed the meal very much, after being starved he had much more use for a light meal like this, even though he looked as if he could use the calories of something like those sausages on the market. But rich food could still make him very sick. Still, Paul dared to offer him a slice of home-made pie as dessert, with cream on top. It was delicious, and Lukas dared to eat all of his generous slice. He was clearly doing really well.
After dinner and the washing up, we sat in the living-room for a little while, checking out the books Paul had fished out of his enormous collection to help Lukas learn the language. And Paul took the time to answer all the questions I had accumulated whilst reading his books on magic.
I learned I could expect to discover magical abilities that I would develop spontaneously. And by practising discipline and meditation I would be able to direct the abilities more accurately, and control them in acute situations. I was really curious what abilities I would get.
Lukas listened with interest as well, his people also knew magic he said. In fact, it was widespread, his people knew little technology, using magic for most utilities that we were improving with steam and electricity, like lighting and heating our houses, and heating water for cooking and bathing. This
interested Paul immensely, and I was certain they would discuss the differences between both societies a lot in the near future.
Lukas was clearly intrigued by the technology that Paul used, even invented.
Paul asked if Lukas had any magic of his own, and Lukas replied that he had some experience with its use, instinctively, but that he had no magic he could use consciously. His father apparently was a high-ranking magician in his country, and all his siblings followed in his footsteps.
It seemed as if our Lukas was a bit of a black sheep in the family, not amounting to much in the eyes of his father. Paul told him that in our world, magic often took some time to break through, especially at a more profound level. This intrigued Lukas, for apparently he was only a half-sibling to his more talented sisters and brothers, his mother having been of his own kind, the people with horns we generally called satyrs, and his father human. 'My mother had no magic,' he said, 'and I had only a tiny, unconscious bit, and that was before my captors shaved off my hair.'
'Wait a second, ' I exclaimed, 'you have hair?' Lukas laughed at my surprise:
'I'll have you know I have curly hair to rival Paul here. Those demons shaved it off after I pulled a trick on them, nearly getting them to fight each other They shaved me, and not gently, just before I escaped. The welts on my back were the result of my feeble attempts at resistance.' That was quite a revelation, I thought he was naturally hairless. I couldn't resist, I had to feel his head, and indeed, there was a little stubble there. There were also the cuts I noticed yesterday, reminding me of the welts on his back.
I asked Paul: 'Do you by any chance know anything of healing?' Paul answered: 'I'm not a doctor, but I can treat wounds when they're not infected.
Comes with the job of guardian, it's a bit of a high risk job, and some of the people I come into contact with distrust doctors. In really bad cases I can sometimes use magic, but not always.'
That was good enough for me, and I asked Lukas: 'Would you mind showing Paul those welts, I'd like to have his opinion on their condition.' Lukas answered cheekily: 'Any excuse to take my clothes off,' and he stripped himself of his shirt.
Seeing his mottled skin with the angry red marks reminded me of yesterday night, when I had held him in my arms, still sticky with blood. It caused me to feel a surge of love for this young man, looking so different, but feeling so familiar already. Paul was clearly a bit shocked at the extent of the damage,
he hadn't realized Lukas was hurt as well as emaciated.
He sat next to Lukas and probed the welts, noticing that the skin around them was not swollen and that they were clean and scabbed over. 'They must hurt quite a bit, but they are not infected and are healing well,' Paul said.
'Melissa cleaned them yesterday night. It hurt like hell, but apparently it worked, ' Lukas explained. Paul looked at his head as well: 'And this is from the shaving? The cuts are deeper but narrower, and also clean and on their way to healing. I can feel your stubble too,' Paul said, stroking Lukas' head to enjoy the feel of the tiny hairs. Lukas was undergoing the attention with his eyes closed like a cat, so predictable and yet so endearing.
I was actually looking forward to tonight, before going to sleep we would probably make love again, my hands on his horns, his hands on me. But tomorrow was an early day, and I needed my hours of sleep. So I proposed to Lukas to go back to our own apartment, which he agreed to.
Paul asked Lukas: 'Will come to me tomorrow? I can help you with your English, and you can help me in the workshop. No-one will see you there, and you'll be safe and not feel lonely.' I was really grateful, for I didn't look forward to leaving him all alone for a whole day.
And Lukas told him: 'Yes, please. Such a stroke of good luck that you speak Greek.' At this, Paul said cryptically: 'That may not be a coincidence. I'll have to look into that.' As we climbed the beautiful stairs to the front door, Paul seemed to be a lot less sure suddenly, which I took as a sign that he wanted to be intimate in his goodbye to me, but didn't know how to start. No longer hindered by doubt and insecurity towards him, I embraced and kissed him, and he not only returned it, but also leaned into me and dared to touch my hair again.
I'd rather have had him run his hand over my breasts, but with patience that moment might still come. With Lukas looking his encouragement to me I kept Paul in my arms until he started to get restless, then I released him and Lukas and I went upstairs.
Chapter 7
Once in my apartment, Lukas had a night snack, and I asked him: 'I suppose that not accepting an offer of intimacy from someone you love would be very rude where you come from?' Lukas confirmed: 'Very rude indeed, I have a lot to learn if I ever want to fit in here. What Paul did tonight, just kissing your hand instead of showing you some real affection, when you had clearly dressed up especially for him, would have meant the end of his chances with you. It would have been an insult.'
I nodded, observing: 'And here it is a sign of self-control, of manliness even, and it shows great respect to the lady in question. He actually accepted quite a high level of intimacy from me. That doesn't mean I wasn't disappointed.'
Now, Lukas looked at me in an intense way, and said: 'Will you allow me to make up for your disappointment by showing you my admiration for you?'
And though I really needed my sleep to be able to get up early the next morning, I did want what he offered, so I nodded to show him my consent.
He took off his shirt and trousers, folding them neatly and laying them on a chair. Then he offered me his hand, and led me to the bedroom. There, he sat o
n the edge of the bed, and instead of watching how I undressed, he unbuttoned the whole front of my dress, then helped me out of it, laying it over the same bedroom chair as his own stuff.
Seeing him naked made me realize this was still his natural state to me, and to him as well, for he had no consciousness of being undressed at all. Soon I was totally naked too, and Lukas clearly showed his appreciation of my body.
Starting with my feet, he held every part of my body, stroking it, kissing it, admiring it.
As he slowly moved upward, of course my excitement grew. He invited me to sit on the bed, and sat on the floor between my legs. Kissing my inner thighs, he came ever closer to a part of me that now wanted him intensely.
But he kissed it, tasted it, and moved on to my buttocks, my belly, my breasts, my neck, and my mouth. His hands ran through my glorious hair, and he bent over me to kiss it, too. Then he went back to what he had only tasted
before, and gave it his undivided attention. After that, our lovemaking turned a lot rougher, and it ended with Lukas totally out of breath, and me totally sated.
The last thing I did before falling asleep was warn him: 'If you want to make love tomorrow morning, you'll have to wake early, for I have to be up at first light.' Excitedly he asked: 'Can I wake you, you know, by entering you? Like this morning, only with you not scaring me?' Already half asleep I agreed:
'Yes you can. You are really something, you know.' And then I fell asleep, dreaming of an intensely blue sea, craggy rocks, and venerable old trees standing in dry tilled earth.
That morning I had a different dream, a very stimulating one. I was riding wave after wave of intense pleasure, a burning hot spot between my legs the centre of the blissful rolling movement. It was a very nice dream, probably brought on by the awakening of my sexual feeling by... waking a little bit I realized I was not just dreaming.
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