She straddled me and sat up, working her fingertips into my upper abs like a cat. Her hair flowed over her shoulders and a little across her upper chest, which was still covered by her Galderian bikini top. I felt the strength of her inner thighs against my hips as she squeezed. She began to slowly rock and undulate slightly, rubbing her crotch against mine. I glanced down and realized the leather flap covering my manhood had conveniently flipped upward as she'd landed on me. So, all that was between us was her thin cloth panties underneath her skirt.
Why the hell did I avoid this for so long?
She kept working herself against me, messing up the covers as her lower legs pushed into them, and scrambling my thoughts into mush as I let her ride. It was only a matter of time before one of us would be pulling her panties off, or at least out of the way. But what she was doing with them still on was working pretty damn good for me regardless.
I gained a moment of sufficient clarity allowing me to reach up for her. My plan was to show my interest in her pert breasts. I wanted to free them from captivity. She leaned down to welcome my effort.
We both jolted at hearing a loud banging on the door—someone slamming a fist against it repeatedly.
"Tara. I need some help downstairs." It was Cormac. He sounded annoyed, and it was clear from the tone in his voice he needed Tara right away.
You're fucking kidding me.
I didn't say anything, but I wanted to yell back and tell him to go away…at least for another twenty or thirty minutes.
Cormac knocked hammer-fisted again. "Sorry to wake you. The place is packed. I haven't seen it like this in I don't know how long. Can you give us a hand?"
"Yeah," Tara called out to him. "I'll be coming in just a minute!"
A clever double-entendre, I thought.
She kept working herself against me, clearly as quietly as she could.
Go away Cormac.
Another fist on the door.
"Shit." I blurted it out accidentally.
"What's that?" Cormac spoke through the door.
"Nothing," she replied to cover my mistake.
"Are you dressed?" Cormac asked.
"Uh, yeah," Tara said. "Just give me a minute."
"Not leaving without you," he said. "I know how you are. I don't want you to doze off on me and leave me hanging."
I heard Cormac trying the door. I glanced around Tara's smooth toned still-gyrating waist and saw the handle of the door turning.
She stopped moving. She and I stared at each other in a panic. We both spoke the same words at the same time, thankfully not too loudly. "We didn't lock it!"
She pushed against my stomach to launch herself off me, swinging her right leg over me and onto the floor. I let out an unintentional noise since her pumping my stomach caught me off guard.
I glanced to either side, hoping to see something large enough to duck behind before Cormac came in and saw me. Sure, he hadn't minded when Tara had flirted with me a while back, but catching the two of us in her room was a bad idea in anybody's book. No such luck. Aside from the bed, only a small nightstand, a washing basin, and a narrow dressing table were in the room. I looked down at my leather loin cloth, which was standing nearly vertical.
It was only Tara's impressive speed which saved us both from a conversation which would have been awkward at best and bloody painful at worst. I knew Cormac might not hesitate to lay into me under the circumstances. Maybe I was reading him wrong, but I didn't want to find out.
Just as the door moved open a crack, Tara bumped her hip into it, knocking it shut.
"Whoa," Cormac said.
"I'm not dressed," Tara replied.
"Oh, sorry. I thought you-“
"Hold on." Tara held the door handle as she looked at me and shrugged apologetically. I could tell she hated having to stop as much as I did. Well, maybe not quite as much as I did. I expected the aching would set in pretty soon.
I turned up my hands halfway, trying to gesture to her that it was what it was…and it sucked, but I didn't blame her.
She held one hand against the door and reached over to the drawer of her dressing table with the other. She opened the drawer and pulled out another pair of panties. She squirmed around, still holding the door shut with one hand, pulling down her panties with her other. She flung them over to me. They landed on my chest and I could feel their dampness. She'd been close before Cormac interrupted us. She managed to step into the new pair and slide them up under her skirt.
She mouthed 'sorry' to me, then quickly opened the door just enough to slide out before Cormac could get a peek into the room.
I gave them half a minute to get downstairs, then I got out of Tara's bed to go back to my room. I was still sporting a woody, but it was a short walk to the end of the hall, I thought.
I opened Tara's door and looked out. The coast was clear. I shut it and headed down the hall, with the dimmest of hope that Alara or Nithia might be awake.
Just before I reached our room, the door to Sydney and Monica's room opened. Sydney was standing in the doorway.
"Hey, you," she said, her blond hair catching the light from the lamp in the hallway. She smiled and glanced at my raised leather loin cover. "What are you doin'?"
I stopped in my tracks and looked at her. She was wearing a pair of light blue panties and nothing else. I knew she must've borrowed them. I was surprised by how Earth-like they looked, but what did I know about Galderian clothing, really? The thought was fleeting and of much less interest to me than her full exposed breasts and the fact she was standing in the doorway revealing them to me.
"Just heading for bed," I said.
"Uh, huh." She glanced down to my stiff predicament again, then she quickly checked the hallway behind me, apparently making sure we were alone.
I wanted to say something more to explain why she found me walking the hall as I was, but she moved before I could put together anything more to say. She came out from the doorway and stepped directly in front of me, wrapping her arms around my lower back. She inched closer, pressing her bare breasts against my chest. I felt the tip of my manhood against her pelvis. Instinctively, I put my arms around her too.
"This isn't the right-" Before I could finish saying it wasn't the right place or time, she cut me off, kissing me to shut me up. When she did, I completely forgot what I was saying. Her lips were moist and warm, and a perfect match to mine. I felt her hands move on me as we continued to kiss, mouths opening and closing, her tongue moving in to play with mine. The soft flesh of her breasts squeezed against me and she did something with her hips to tease her naked stomach against my primed loins.
Someone could've walked down the hall and said hello, and I wouldn't have noticed. We must've gone at it for a minute, pausing for gasps of air a few times. Then she drew back and looked at me. I was captivated by her blue eyes, which seemed to express her urges and some sort of deep longing. I got the sense she'd been wanting this even before I became Den the Conqueror. Maybe it was just my ego convincing me her desire went back to our time together in class. I couldn't be sure, but we had a connection.
"Come inside," she said. At first I thought she meant her, there in the hallway! She glanced back toward the open door to her room. Oh, right. I realized she wanted me to come inside her room. Of course, she meant the other thing too.
"Monica," I said. Then a flush of panic came over me as I realized she might have mistaken what I meant. I was trying to say Monica was in the room and that would be a problem if we went in there to get our naked on. But I immediately had the idea that she might have thought I was mistakenly calling her Monica!
I was being an idiot. The fact that I had wanted Sydney since the first day I saw her in class had my head scrambled. And after what she did for me in the cave, I wanted her more than ever. But since Monica had gotten pretty emotional about missing Brad, I knew she was off-limits, and she wasn't likely to want to hang out and watch Sydney and me sheath the sword.
"She's a
sleep," Sydney said.
Okay. I was freaking for no reason. Between Tara and Sydney, my hormones were about to launch me out of the atmosphere. I wasn't thinking straight…and I really needed Sydney…right then.
"How asleep?" I asked.
Sydney chuckled. "She's a rock when she's out." She gently took hold of my manhood. "Believe me. I've tested it."
I chose to believe her.
The room was dim, which made sense. Sydney closed the door once I had stepped inside. The lanterns I assumed were on the walls, like in my room, were completely out. Only a small candle burned on a stone plate atop the dresser off to one side. The flickering flame gave just enough light for me to see there were two beds, each of them quite narrow. I knew the lump under the covers on the bed on the left was Monica. The other bed sat four feet to the right of her.
Sydney took a few steps toward her bed, then turned to wait for me. She eclipsed the glow of the flame with her curvy body. She was standing nearly sideways—major boob curves on her silhouette. I traced the line with my eyes. The shallow of her lower back spilled out to the full curve of her ass. I watched her backlit figure as she slid her panties off, letting them drop to the floor. She slinked her arm up and gestured with a curling finger, telling me to approach.
No argument there.
I took a step and the wood floor creaked loud enough for me to worry Monica might hear it and wake up. I paused, with that one leg forward and glanced at Monica, then looked back to Sydney's shadowed figure.
"She's out," Sydney whispered. "I told you, she sleeps like a rock." She moved to the candle. A couple of seconds later there was a bit more light in the room. She'd lit a second one with the first. After she set it back on the stone plate she went to the side of her bed. I glanced at the other bed and saw that Monica had the upper edge of her cover pulled over her head. And while the two candles gave me a well-lit view of Sydney's completely naked body, their light barely touched the edge of Monica's bed.
The floor creaked a few more times as I walked toward her. I trusted she was right about Monica. So, I ignored the noisy floor and joined her. We stood facing one another, inches from touching—her champion boobs to my chest and my fast-becoming legendary manhood to her blond trim.
She didn't shy or try to cover herself as I gazed upon her, drifting my gaze over her curves. When I looked up to her eyes again, I noticed she was smiling.
"Like what you see?" she asked.
"Oh, yes."
She put her hands on my chest, and slowly moved them around, following the outlines of my muscles. "So do I." She ran her hands down onto my abs. "You forgot something," she said.
She was looking down. I looked down too. My leather loincloth was sticking out parallel with the floor. "Right," I said, reaching for the sides of it. I took it off, letting it settle at my feet.
Her smile grew. "Much better," she said. "Looks like you don't need any encouragement."
She contradicted herself, caressing my lower stomach as she moved her hand down to gently tracing the crevice between my inner thigh and the storehouse of my male vigor.
I didn't reply, not wanting to dissuade her current course of action—though I might've let out a faint groan when she passed her fingertips around me and drew them out over my peninsular aspect.
When her touch left me, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. She sat on the edge of her bed, which placed me between her breasts—a sword buried in the cleave between two great mounds. She looked up at me, smiled, and raised her eyebrows in a flash to further enticement—not that any coaxing was necessary at this point.
I reached for her breasts, to work myself between them, but she lowered her back down to the bed before I took hold of them. She turned as she put herself fully onto the bed, resting her head on her pillow and drawing her legs up from the floor. She puckered her lips and kissed me through the air. Then she splayed her legs wide, letting her ankles drop at inch over each side of the narrow bed. She raised her hands above her head and took hold of the short vertical posts which ran between the upper and lower horizontal wood beams of the headboard. I marveled at her body—her breasts sitting as two impressive upright mounds below the seductive visage on her beautiful face, the sloping valley of her stomach and the gentle rise of her pelvis and fullness of her hips leading my eyes to the soft blond patch pointing to her offering.
"It's your move, hero," she said.
I leaned down and placed my right hand on the bed beside her shoulder and reached over her to brace myself with my other hand as I lowered myself onto her. As our bodies met, I tasted her lips, then her cheek, her neck—slowly moving my sword across the velvet landscape beneath it. Her eyes closed and her head tipped slowly this way and that, responding to me as she moaned. I worked my way down from her neck, pressing my mouth into the soft flesh of her breasts, then kneading her areolae with my lips and gently biting against her nipples.
She arched her back and drew her chin up, pushing her head deeper into the pillow. I felt her lower body churned against me. She let go of the posts behind her and ran her hands over me, moving them down to my hips. I felt a gentle pull as she tried to bring me into her. I obliged, sliding myself up. I felt the building perspiration dampening both our bodies.
She let out a short gasping cry and desperately flung her hands back up to grab the headboard as I pushed myself inside of her. I eased off and coaxed her more slowly for a few seconds until I felt she was ready to take on more. Her breathing became more audible and I felt her matching my rhythm. I shifted my weight onto one arm and massaged her breasts with my other hand, while still building her up. I put more into it—and into her. The small bed started creaking and the headboard began smacking the wall. I glanced to my left and saw Monica was still under the covers. I kept going.
I felt the wet heat building inside her and I was fast climbing to the summit. Sydney was becoming much more vocal, no doubt losing sight of discretion as she was more caught up in the moment. She was groaning and moaning, and though I was concerned she might wake Monica, the sounds Sydney was making were feeding my intensity. Our bodies were fast becoming slippery as we'd both built up a good sweat. The sweet smell of her was intoxicating. Our combined movement became stronger, each thrust more forceful and steady. I felt my chest muscles tighten as my lower body swung in and out of extreme tension. Sydney's thighs squeezed against my legs and her knees bent, while her ankles lifted from the sides of the bed and rose up above my back. I watched her huge breasts sway and crash against one another.
Months of lustful yearning after her were playing out and I wasn't holding anything back. I had no thought of Alara, Nithia, or Tara, giving myself entirely over to Sydney for now. It was obvious she was taking every inch of me I could give, and she showed no signs of holding onto any self control. The bed rocked and, in the final moments, even jolted a few inches off the floor as our bodies shifted with each effort.
The torrent I'd built inside crashed through the dam and flooded into Sydney, while hers exploded against me.
Almost simultaneously, three voices called out with unrestrained intensity—mine, Sydney's…and Monica's!
"Oh, my god!" Her voice rang out from my left.
Before I could flash a glance toward Monica, an insanely bright light burst up at me from Sydney's chest, momentarily blinding me. In an instant, the light vanished and my body dropped onto the bed where Sydney had been. She was gone. I was completely fucking freaked out.
Monica started screaming!
Chapter 25
I pushed myself up to get my face off the blanket. What happened? Sydney had vanished beneath me. I felt her body against mine one moment, then she was gone. I turned to Monica, who was still screaming. She had recoiled back against the headboard of her bed. She was naked from the waist up. Her eyes were wide with panic. She was looking at me and erratically waving her hands.
I sat up and moved to face her directly, with a desire to calm her down—though I was still
flipping out in my head about Sydney vanishing. "Monica," I said, moving my outstretched hands lower, palms downward. I meant to signal for her to quiet herself, if possible. Her screaming was doing nothing but adding to the stress of the situation, but I didn't blame her.
I realized I had nothing on and my sated lower member was still an imposing presence, and not what she needed to be looking at right then. I pulled the cover over my lap. "I know you're freaked out," I said, "but I don't know what happened either. Please quiet down and we'll figure this out."
She'd been screaming so intensely, I guessed it was more exhaustion than my reasoning which made her stop. She sat with her back pushing firmly against the pillow behind her. She pulled her knees in toward her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "She's gone." She slowly shook her head while staring at Sydney's bed.
The door opened. Alara and Nithia came rushing in. They both stopped in their tracks and looked at Monica and me.
"What's going on?" Alara asked.
"We heard screaming," Nithia said, as she glanced around the room before returning her eyes to me. "You're sweaty."
Monica pulled more of her covers up around her legs. "That was me."
"She means the screaming," I said. "Not the sweaty."
"Why?" Alara said. "What's wrong? Den, what are you doing in here anyway? I thought you were with-"
"Yeah, long story," I said, cutting her off intentionally. I was a little embarrassed by my room hopping, though it wasn't really planned. "She was screaming because Sydney was here a few moments ago…with me, then she disappeared."
"What do you mean, disappeared?" Alara glanced back to the door. "You mean she just left?"
"Wow, that's gotta be a little deflating," Nithia said.
Dennis the Conqueror: A Harem Fantasy (Sword and Sorority Book 1) Page 18
