I remember how she felt when she gloved me, seeped deep inside of me. The intimacy, even if it wasn’t sexual, at the time.
Or, maybe, it was. A bit.
The bed suggests itself; I’m not sure how to broach the subject. The others seemed to know from the outset, but Finna hasn’t mentioned her artifact status.
“So...you mentioned no aspirant had ever beaten your realm?”
Finna nods, smoothing a hand over the bed curtain, taking in the details of the ruin. “Not one. Not even when my trial came first.”
“But…” I clear my throat, a sharp sound in the cavernous space. “You know how the trials work.”
Finna stops exploring the room and turns on me with soft splash. “The aspirant solves the puzzle and we go into the garden. Would you like to go? I’ve explored enough.”
Even if the answer was yes, there’s still no exit, which is giving me some anxiety. Not the bulk of my anxiety, though.
“When an aspirant wants to claim...possess...activate-” Coughing, I look at her and just wish she understood, that this moment, of all moments, she could read my thoughts. “To bond we have to…” I’m a bastard, I’ve not always lived the cleanest life, but my mother was the daughter of a duke, good-hearted and cultured, and she managed to pound some decency into my hide. “We have to bond, Finna.”
Her eyes widen. “We have to what?”
I toe the floor. Rub my neck. I can’t quite meet her eyes, and the words....I don’t have any. Maybe lake nymphs just scatter goo droplets to procreate, and this is another one of those gross mortal behaviors Freya mentioned. “We have to, to couple. Do you under–”
She cries out, with disgust, no doubt, and falls onto the bed. Puddles, but quickly – the closest a being like her can get to collapsing. She doesn’t move. I think she’s fainted. This makes me feel extra-despicable for admiring the way her breasts bounce.
“Finna? Finna, if you don’t– we don’t have to do anything.” I’ll figure out the whole ‘complete artifacts’ arrangement later on.
She’s still vibrating, her entire body rippling. Oh Gods. I’ve fucked this up, so badly. I...Wait. Is she…
She’s laughing. She lifts her head, eyes merry.
“Finna…”
She raises up, gazing at me down the length of her body. “When I was new, the forest beyond the lake was tended by a dryad. In the night, his eyes were like red jewels, and he smelled like a cedar tree. The other creatures shunned him for the roughness of his bark or tendril branches.” Finna sucks her bottom lip, and it pops free with smack that I can feel right between my legs.
“We coupled again and again, sometimes for a whole night. When you’re made of primordial ooze…” Finna scoops a dab of goo from between her tits and sucks it from her finger, “A legendary creature with a phallus like a tree trunk is sort of a pleasure.”
My mouth goes dry at that image. “You were fucking with me. You knew what I meant all along.”
“Of course I did. But it’s also been so impossible, with the failure of other aspirants – or so repulsive because of other aspirants, that I didn’t give it much thought. And after the swamp...I didn’t know how eager you’d be.”
Fuck the swamp. Fuck Nechtan’s evil and all his bad decisions. He got what he deserved and hopefully he’s rotting in some hell. But me? I’m here with Finna, and the memory of her form over mine. Wet, thick, clinging.
The shape of her hair covers her eyes like thick bangs and the ends flip out at her shoulders, drawing attention to how slim they are, how delicate, above tits that jiggle with the impatient tap of her foot.
“It’s been a long time, Lir. A long time.” Finna spills from the bed and coalesces on her feet, sauntering toward me with a sway of her hips. She stops abruptly an arms-length away. Her nipples pucker, popping free, at the curve of her breasts.
Oh Heijl, oh Angmar, yes. Yes please. She’s so exotic, this feels forbidden. “Is this pleasurable for you? I’ve only been with mortal, or mostly mortal, women.” She doesn’t seem to have the bits that usually accompany feeling pleasure.
Finna laughs and caresses my cheek with a damp path of her hand. “This is the part of me that feels pleasure.” Her body ripples.
“You heard my thoughts, just now…”
Her smile is sly, accentuating her full bottom lip. “I felt pleasure when you were inside me. When I was inside of you. I felt every inch of you.” Her eyes dart below my belt. “Every. Inch.”
Her words send blood rushing, and in short order there’s a lot more inches of me. She looks soft and wet, two things I’d kill for right now, and she smells like the roses all around us.
“Where do...is it the same as other females?”
Finna backs away and falls on the bed again. Her legs part and the flesh between them is smooth and glossy. Then it ripples, trickles and pours in on itself. She forms the most thick, perfect pussy. “Remember when I said you can stick it anywhere?”
Fuck, do I. “That was my finger.” It’s all I can think to say, staring at her glistening amethyst folds.
“I was hoping for more than a finger.” She winks. “And you can stutter and mumble all day, but I’m not ignorant. This may be my realm, but I read the books in the Great Library and I know the ways of other realms. Mortal men are deviant, filthy. Even if you don’t admit it. You men of the Talentless world have tastes…” Her pussy disappears. Finna raises to her elbows and it reforms between her tits. I can feel the eager drops on the tip of my cock, slicking to the inside of my leathers. My hand flies to my belt without a thought.
She laughs knowingly and scoots up the bed.
My cock is so hard. I think that every time, and then some erotic fuckery makes it worse. I ache, but I want to explore her, take pleasure in how unique and illicit her form is.
Finna pats her belly, jiggling it, not looking eager to be explored. “To answer your earlier question,” she breathes as I straddle her, “What a mortal woman feels between her legs I can feel with any part of my body. Any.”
There’s a soft squish when I rest my weight on her. Finna is slim and shapely, but the sound reminds me of dairy maids who would sneak into the university garden at night, soft bellied and thick thighed, flesh smacking with hands on their ankles and skirts up over their backs. A lot of farmer’s daughters were impregnated by incubi around the university.
Her flesh clings to me, sucking like tentacles and gloving my inner thighs.
“Your whole body feels it?”
Her eyes half close. “Mmhm.”
Bending my head to the pussy between her breasts, I drag my tongue up her pale purple mound. She tastes like sweet spring water and roses and spicy green plants. She shudders beneath the tip of my tongue and a moan vibrates through her.
This time I push. Her body has a tensile quality, resistance, but after I plunge my tongue into her hole a few times, Finna loses cohesion. My cock thrusts, pushing through into her lower belly. “Lir...Lir…” She ripples, and moans just as loud as before.
Her pussy is delicious, and so different. The shape, the look of it, is right, but the taste and feel are unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I run my tongue along her in long, slow licks, slowing when I reach her clit. I suck at it as I pull away, she moans, shudders, sending ripples along her entire body.
My cock thickens inside of her.
I continue licking, but suddenly, everywhere I put my tongue is her clit. I bring it low, and feel her tiny bud, and her wet hands in my hair tighten. I move it up, way up, and when my tongue darts out, her sheathed clit is there. She whimpers.
“Are you…Moving it?”
Yes. Gods, yes.
I don’t argue. I flick, quickly, and her bud emerges. I suck at it again, licking my tongue between puckered lips as she writhes and flows on the bed, and then she cries out. Her body ebbs and recedes like the tide as she cums, and when I pull away, a piece of her stays with me, on my tongue.
On impulse, I swallow it.
Her grin
is wicked. “I’m getting that back.”
“I can’t wait for you to try.” I give her one last lick.
Her hand smacks my forehead with a wet sound and she shoves my head away. Finna cups her tits holds them apart. A trickle of goo runs from the pussy between them, down her belly. It disappears between her thighs.
“I want to feel you,” she murmurs, rolling her nipples, absorbing and reforming them. She slicks a fingertip between her tits, playing with a quivering clit.
I grasp my cock and tease her with it. She’s like nothing I’ve ever felt, wet and firm, slick and yielding beneath. And the whole time I slide my head up and down, her flesh flows up mine a little. It sticks to me, gripping.
Finna arches without warning, burying me inside.
She whimpers, an animal gurgle, and her eyes roll back in ecstasy.
“Fuck. Did you-?”
“Oh. Ohh yes. And I’m- I’m…”
She wriggles beneath me, eager, but I’m caught up in the sight of my cock through her translucent body. She convulses against my shaft, works it on gelatinous ripples. Finna licks her lips. “I can taste you like this.”
“Really?”
“Mmhm. Just a little, but your cock, the drops of salt you leave inside me…” Her eyes roll back again.
I thrust into her, mesmerized by the jiggle of her, the blurred silhouette of my cock, and how her body changes. Before, there was a barrier, a thickness to her outer flesh. When I cup her tits, clutching them around my shaft, small globs cling each time I withdraw. There’s something about being covered in the woman I’m fucking that’s so amazing.
Finna pushes my hands away and kneads me with her breasts through each stroke. She slips a hand inside her chest, flowing together but not completely. Something like fingers curl around my cock. She jerks it in short, sticky movements that tear a groan from my chest.
“Enough!” Her arms trickle and solidify around my waist. “Off.” She smiles up at me from beneath her sweep of hair. “I’ve never had a mortal man. I want to try other things.”
“And I’ve never had a limonymph. I don’t think I can stop.”
“No?” Her word is breathy, faux incredulous.
I can’t answer, just stroke into her cool, thick goo…
Until she thins and runs over the bed’s edge into a puddle on the stone. She’s laughing before she has her shape back. “You’re not really in charge. I know mortal men think they’re the hero everywhere, even a woman’s bed...the books made that clear but-” She winks, “I have you, Lir.”
“Then gods and all, have me.” My cock is wet, covered in globs of her slime that run to the root and trail across the sheets to rejoin her. It’s like being licked- slowly. It’s delicious torture.
Finna makes a surprised sound. “You like to be licked?”
“Stop doing that!” I thought only Meridiana could read my thoughts like this.
“Don’t blame me.” She rakes me with a sultry, judgmental look. “You’ve lain with a succubus. And part of me is lost inside you after we crossed the swamp, so you’ve mixed your mythological beings. Your deviant tryst is to blame.”
She shoves me back and puddles between my knees. “Did she use her tail?” Finna doesn’t wait for an answer. Even as she grips the root of my cock, a tentacle of her slime oozes up to my ass, firms, and presses half inside.
In the tavern, in the camp, we used to mock men who enjoyed buggery or anything close. But this...a gorgeous woman violating me, pleasuring me? I have to eat my words.
“What about her tongue?” Finna digs the tip of hers into the base of my shaft and drags. It flows around my cock and tugs the skin as she goes. My balls melt into her tits, rolled by the flow of her chest and bounced by quick strokes of her tongue that paint me in strings of purple goo. Finna’s lips part and her mouth gloves my shaft, my balls. She’s not sucking exactly; small thrusts of her head make a wet slurping sound, but the sensation is like flowing water and honey.
I grip the sheet and twist.
Finna hums against my length, a sound that grows quicker, more feral. Her head plunges down, sinking me impossibly deep, and she shudders on a last moan. The long sounds of pleasure come from inside of her, and I can feel them through her gel.
“Gods damn. Did you...?”
“I told you,” she pants, dripping now, barely the consistency of jelly. “Every part of me.”
If mortal men and women could both cum from a man getting sucked off? I shudder. We’d be extinct in two generations. I’d be part of our downfall, no doubt.
Finna oozes up my thighs until she’s astride. I’ve already been inside her, but when she lowers herself and I breach her thick barrier, I gasp again.
She doesn’t move, but the goo around my cock oscillates, squeezes in a pulsing rhythm. My balls tighten, and I grind my teeth, trying not to spend already. Finna’s face tips down and she watches me inside her, seeming as fascinated as I felt the first time. She presses through her belly with two fingers and pinches the head of my cock.
My body comes clear off the bed. This drives me deeper into her, and Finna shrieks her delight. She oozes over my hips in rivulets. When I grab her thighs she squishes through my grip.
We fuck each other hard, Finna gelled to my cock while I pound her. Each thrust shakes her entire body. She wriggles, cries out, and a small gush of purple ooze spills hot onto my belly and thighs. She cums on me like this again and again. It adds to the vulgar, wet smacking and sucking of our bodies. Pleasure twists in my gut, tightens my balls.
Finna bends and presses her mouth to mine. Her lips smell like roses and cling to mine like sugar syrup. Her tongue pours into my mouth and gobs of her seep into my nose. She’s filling me in and out, just like she did in the swamp. She comes on, almost forcing her way into me. Taut with near painful need, I let her fill me.
Brief fear, excitement, and the surrealness of it push me over the edge. I cum hard, almost violently. I can taste her cum, like seawater and roses, and my own, and feel her convulse around me, inside me. We fuck each other from the inside, a few more thrusts, before she flows out of me and melts half puddled against my chest, jiggling softly.
I can see my cock inside of her, the spurts of cum hot and cloudy in her translucent belly. The image will be with me for a long time.
Chuckling against my chest, Finna dips a finger inside and trails a gooey string of my cum and her slime up to her lips. She sucks it off with a long mmmm.
“The succubus,” she murmurs, breath cool on the sweat of my skin, “Was a creature originally compelled to be seductive. But the nymph?” She writhes, milking my spent, throbbing cock until I whimper. “We were insatiable by nature, and by choice.”
“You do this because you enjoy it?” I’m so exhausted and still so turned on that I can’t form a more coherent response.
Little gelatinous clumps run wild over my body, all the bits Finna lost to her arousal. “Maybe a little too much. I won’t tell you what happened to the dryad.”
I stiffen under her.
She chuckles again, flowing off me. “He was already countless millennia old when I was created. He didn’t return to the pantheon unhappy.”
This terrifies and intrigues me, proving that a mortal man’s weakness will always be his cock. “Hey,” I muse, fumbling for my armor. “Still no door.”
“Oh, it opens further back, near the lake, so far as I know.”
“Then...why did you bring me up here?”
Finna smiles wickedly. Her belly convulses and my cum ripples inside her. It’s thinning, dissipating, being absorbed. “I was afraid you’d run before I got my chance.”
“I seriously doubt it.” But I also wonder if I should have.
That poor fucking dryad.
-The Garden-
“So, how many others are waiting?” Finna asks as we pass into the garden.
“Three. A succubus and an alicorn. Have you crossed paths with either of them before?”
Silence
.
“Finna?” I glance back. She isn’t there. Not just invisible; she’s gone. Her door has closed.
“What the-?” No one comes to greet us. Not even the Gardener. As I walk further out into the garden, I can see the change. No terrace, no chambers. The center staircase and double doors are gone. The temple’s inner ring is smooth, unscalable, impenetrable white stone. It should be afternoon according to the Gardener’s timekeeper, but the sun is noon-bright in a blue sky, turning the stone blinding.
No voices, no shapes. “Hello?” I pass where the terrace should be. “Meridiana? Freya? Anyone?”
Pass the south side of the temple, where the second four chambers should be.
Blank and empty.
I wander into the grove’s cool, loamy shade. Vines trail thick tree trunks and flowering bushes in shades of pink, red, and purple dot the glade, full blossomed and well kept. In the center, kissed by a shaft of sunlight, in a grassy mound. Atop it sits a stone reading stand.
If I came here another time, I feel this would all be different. It has a surreal impermanence.
The stand holds a single piece of rough paper.
Sacrifico.
It’s written in bold ink across the center of the page.
The thing you fear most. I hear Finna’s caution.
To lose everything. I lost everything before I came here and now it feels I’ve lost again.
I take out the astratempus. Day still passes. Or night; whatever time it really is. The gold arrow has moved a few notches. A few hours left before the day ends, and so much temptation to give up. If time is passing, it means I haven’t completed the day’s trials. My soul still hangs in the balance.
I have to figure this out.
Circling the wall again, I see a shadow I didn’t before; maybe because the sun has changed. A smooth stone hand extends from the wall, made of the same white stone. All the fingers are gently retracted but one. It seems to point at the ground. Nothing. Lush green grass and a cluster of small amethyst flowers. I rake through them. Poke the cool soil. No answers.
At a loss, I circle further up, to where the staircase stood. A hand extends, flat and palm up.
Temple of Cocidius Page 12
