Game Over

by Sahara Kelly

  "Eeeeuwww." He wrinkled his nose. "Nope. No fish kisses. No cookies. Squish off."

  The critter looked disappointed as it slid down along his body.

  Sir Lincoln breathed a sigh of relief then yelped. Loudly—although it came out as more of a choked gurgle. He'd swum smack dab into a large patch of clingy, tangled seaweed which at that moment was grasping at his limbs with softly sensual tendrils.

  It was kind of like foreplay with an octopus. If one was inclined to indulge in that sort of thing.

  As Sir Lincoln struggled to free himself, he made a mental note never to even think of having sex with an octopus. No matter what the reward might be at the end of it. He swam faster, his flippers churning up the waters behind him into a frantic whorl of bubbles and currents. Unfortunately, his movements only heightened the sensation of having his cock stroked by about a thousand delicate fingers.

  Realizing his frantic movements were making matters worse, Sir Lincoln slowed his pace, forcing himself to move his legs less haphazardly and consequently discovering the rather nice sensation of swimming amongst soft caresses. He didn't have the heart to thwack this foliage—it was doing much too nice things to his libido.

  And his cock, which seemed to be getting rather a lot of attention from the kelp bed, or whatever it was.

  Relaxing into the moment, Sir Lincoln let his mind wander as his thighs gently propelled him onward. He could, if he concentrated hard enough, imagine himself tangled in Zara's hair. It could be her mouth running up and down his cock, her tresses lingering around the muscles of his legs, her fingers catching on his ass cheeks.

  He sighed, a small stream of bubbles emerging from his lips and fascinating the fish still accompanying him, albeit from a respectful distance. Oh yeah—if ever there was a time to indulge himself in a fantasy fuck, this was it.

  Zara moaned.

  Of course she moaned—she was having wild monkey sex with the hero of the game. Who the hell wouldn't moan?

  She was quite naked...her full round breasts brushing their nubby tips against his bare legs as she sucked him. He was sucking her too as they lay side by side in the classic "sixty nine at ninety degrees rotated" position, or whatever that sexual guide book had called it.

  He had his head between her thighs and was doing his own impression of a vacuum cleaner hard at work, throwing in a touch of the Green Dragonfly thing now and again. Actually more again than now, since his concentration wasn't all it should have been.

  Hey. There was a Princess sucking his cock. Who could blame a guy for getting distracted at a moment like this?

  Her buttocks were full and flexing in his palms as he squeezed them. Zara was fondling his ass too, with strokes and digs of her fingernails. She took him deep into her throat—a heated channel that made his eyes cross even as he plunged his tongue deep into her wet folds and lapped at her juices.

  Fucking shit, this was good—almost too good.

  She moved her mouth, her lips finding his balls, her tongue—oh shit.

  Sir Lincoln squawked, sending an errant bubble up his nose and pulling him back a little. If he kept fantasizing about what she was doing to his balls, he'd never get to the main event.

  He drifted, letting his mind shift the bodies he was so vividly imagining.

  Now he was behind her, looking her squarely in the ass. She was on all fours, her shiny pussy gleaming and inviting. Oh yeah, baby. This was most excellent.

  Sir Lincoln grinned and reached for her hips, positioning his cock right at that hot little slit. He thrust, a deep and solid plunge that did a hero proud. And God, was she ever tight and ready for him.

  Her skin was silk beneath his fingers, her hair flying every which way and her body arching toward him as he sank himself fully into her heat. He could almost hear her cry of pleasure—gargled a bit, but there nevertheless. He withdrew and watched his cock, enormous and shining, pull free then plunge back home into her velvet fire.

  He took her forcefully—as all heroes should, of course. No messing around here, just some good, solid fucking. He tipped his hips with his next thrust, knowing that he was massaging that secretive little spot inside her, since it was his fantasy and damned if he was gonna give her anything less than the best fuck she'd ever imagined in her wildest dreams.

  One arm drifted down to find a breast, dangling and swaying as he pounded into her. Her nipple was huge and hard, just begging for a nice squeeze or two—yeah, just like that.

  Her inner muscles tightened around him as he fondled her, teasing and pulling on her sensitive tissue, giving it the good old "Sir Lincoln" treatment, which—this being his fantasy—sent shudders of delight through her body and made her shiver beneath his touch.

  He drew back once more and obeyed a wicked impulse, giving her a sharp spank on one white ass cheek.

  She loved it, crying out for more, begging him to do it again, punish her, he was her daddy, she'd been a bad little Princess...

  No wait, wrong fantasy. That was the other one with the leather and the chicken...

  He throttled down on his lusts for a dash of kink , satisfying himself with the good old-fashioned hammering fuck he was giving her. In and out, over and over, repeat as necessary. And oh yeah, it was working.

  Her tight sheath gloved him, wrapped around him like duct tape on a leaky pipe, massaging and stroking him until his muscles cramped and his lips peeled back from his teeth in a pre-orgasmic grimace of arousal.

  Yeah—thrust—oh yeah—out—shit—in—smack—motheroffuckingchrist—

  Gasping, choking and flailing wildly, Sir Lincoln of Green gave up the battle and came, trying to forgive himself and attributing the whole release to an accident of nature. It didn't count. Of course it didn't count. It wasn't Zara he was spurting into, but about a cubic mile of kelp. He shivered as his cock shrunk and risked a glance downward.

  The fish who had accompanied him on his fantasy-filled journey through the seaweed looked appalled as it swam clear of the murky cloud of cum it had barely managed to avoid. It gave Sir Lincoln a look of fishy disgust and flipped him a fin.

  "Don't give me that look. I was having a fantasy, okay? I can't be held responsible for your stupidity in swimming near the cock of a guy whose brains are with his sweetie. It wasn't personal, buddy. I do not—repeat not—have sex with fish." He glared at the retreating tail.

  Two other fish also stared at him then disappeared behind him. He distinctly felt the sharp slap of their tailfins against his ass and frowned. He was a pretty low key guy most of the time, when he wasn't horny and on a quest. But he figured that any dude should be allowed to have the occasional fantasy or two without being chastised by a bunch of piscine prudes.

  Gathering his stomach muscles tightly, Sir Lincoln of Green took in a breath, then released one of the championship farts for which he was renowned far and wide. The resultant boom had earned him free drinks at Ye Olde Pixel Pub on an occasional Saturday night, even as it rattled the tankards on the wall and melted a plant or two.Hah. That'll teach 'em.

  The fish managed to look disgusted and imitated the rather rude gesture made by their friend, flipping him a pair of matching fins as they hurriedly evacuated the area around his bubbling buttocks. He ignored them both. Stupid suckers.

  Bloody fucking hell. No wonder they called these waters the Seas of Evil.

  With renewed vigor—offset by an urge to nap—Sir Lincoln resumed his course to the grotto where the Mermaid Fairy awaited him. God only knew what he'd have to do to her to get his extra bottles of red potion. And God only knew if he'd have the strength for it.

  Fortunately no more fish seemed inclined to hang around him and he soon saw the yellowish gleam of light emanating from a reef wall. The grotto lay ahead. With, hopefully, some breathable air and a hair dryer. Maybe even a change of clothes. Wet tights were a bitch. Coming in said tights was even worse, even though the cool ocean water had probably done a damn good job of washing them clean.

  All he needed was about
ten minutes in a spin cycle or a patch of sunshine and he'd be on his way once more.

  After he'd dealt with that fucking Mermaid, of course.

  The bubbles from Sir Lincoln's gusty sigh spiraled above him and marked his trail—the path of one rather harassed and embarrassed hero. He decided it was about time for a motto or something. A few pithy words his mother could embroider on his underwear. Assuming at some point he got to actually wear underwear, since visible boxer lines beneath tights just wasn't the correct couture for someone of his stature.

  "Never give in. Never surrender." He tried it out. Not bad, but a bit dramatic and he thought it sounded vaguely familiar.

  "I'm from your government. I'm here to save you." He snorted. Yeah, like that would work.

  "Go Green. We're brave and...ummm... mean." Yuck.

  "I got the best damn sword on the whole damn planet and I know how to use it." Yeah, now there was a sentiment he could get behind.

  He was so busy considering mottoes that he forgot to watch where he was going and swam right into a wall of coral, a piece of which neatly sliced the top off the feather in his hat.

  Once again spiraling bubbles marked his sigh. Even heroes apparently couldn't avoid having one of those days...

  - - -

  Neither could heroines.

  Zara wandered aimlessly around her chamber, unsatisfied and irritated. All she asked for was a simple fuck, goddamit. Was that so hard to come by? Now it seemed some demented programmer had sealed her pussy shut. It wasn't Velcro—she'd checked. Carefully, of course, but in the privacy of her shower she'd explored herself quite thoroughly. And non-arousingly. Which had been a bit of a battle in and of itself.

  She'd felt nothing preventing penetration. She couldn't see anything either—after balancing precariously on one foot while the other waved above the sink. Not the most elegant of positions, but when looking up one's own ass it was hard to be graceful.

  Nope, there wasn't a damn thing she could find to explain Thunder Nimbus's assertion. Perhaps he'd just tried to cover his own premature cloudburst by inventing a nice little bit of urban myth.

  She shrugged and idly thumbed through her copy of the latest erotic romance by her current favorite author, Sahara Kelly. She couldn't bring herself to read any more—she was turned on enough as it was. Besides it was some weird stuff about fairies and dragons. Talk about freaky fantasies...

  A solid thunk on her door made her jump. Oh God. Here we go again.

  Tightening the belt on her robe she opened it cautiously. "Hello?"

  "Greetings, Princess Zara." Two men stood before her, almost a matched set. "We are Ren and Kyu. We have come in answer to your prayers for pleasure."

  "Ah. Well...okay then. Come in."

  Zara watched them enter and close the door politely behind themselves. When she'd said "almost" a matched set, she'd been right on the money. They were of a similar height, both well-muscled in a lean and sporty sort of way, and both wore those distinct robes that screamed martial arts.

  Both had black belts tied around their slim waists. Both were armed. She wondered if she was going to be fucked or tossed to the mat—best two out of three falls or something.

  "I am Ren. This is my brother Kyu. We are famous fighters who travel the world righting wrongs and protecting the innocent." They smiled happily.

  "Brothers, huh?"

  Ren put his arm around Kyu's shoulders. "Yes."

  Zara wondered about that for a minute, then decided it would only complicate matters if she pointed out to Ren the genetic impossibility of a California surfer-dude type having an obviously Oriental brother.

  "Ren. That sounds familiar. You don't happen to have a little Chihuahua with a bad attitude tucked away someplace, do you?"

  "Wrong game."

  "Oh. Sorry." Zara blushed apologetically. "Well, anyway, how nice. It's a pleasure to meet you both." She dipped her head as per the rules for Princesses greeting guests.

  "Hai." Kyu smiled sunnily and bowed.

  "Hi." Zara's lips were starting to hurt. These were real cheerful fellas.

  "We hear you need some help with your—um—problem." Ren whipped out his katana blade and whirled it expertly around his head.

  Kyu followed suit, producing a set of nunchakus from one pocket and whizzing them through the air with ease.

  "Oh swell. If I need flies swatted or mosquitoes filleted, you two sure are the ones I'd call." Zara stepped back, well out of range of any flying blades or bits of spinning wood. The last thing she wanted was a new hairdo courtesy of Ren's katana.

  They completed their little weapons demonstration with a few moves designed to show their inscrutable courage and nerves of steel. Ren tossed his sword mid-whirl to Kyu and caught Kyu's nunchakus in return. They leaped upward, screamed "Hiiiyaaaa!" and landed simultaneously, posing in perfect balance.

  It was quite visually appealing, but what the hell it had to do with fucking, Zara hadn't a clue. She sighed. "Look guys, I really appreciate this, but I've been told I can't get myself any decent action because of some spell or something."

  Ren sheathed his sword and removed his belt. "We are invincible, Princess. We are here. You will come." He grinned confidently.

  Kyu shrugged out of his Gi. "Hai."

  "Yes. Hi again." Zara shrugged. Sheesh, these are friendly guys.

  She unfastened her silk bathrobe. "Okay. Who am I to argue? Give it your best shot, boys." She sat naked on the edge of the bed and waited.

  They tossed their clothes to the floor and stood in front of her, eager smiles on their faces. Ren was a real nice hunk of dude with that shock of California-blond hair and eyes as blue as the Pacific on a good day with no smog. A smattering of curls dappled his nicely cut chest, highlighting his munchable pecs.

  Kyu was dark, his hair cut short and straight across his forehead, almond-shaped eyes glowing at her from beneath black brows. His body was smooth as silk, the gleam of his skin throwing the shadows from his muscles into very tasty definition.

  Then she got to the good stuff.

  Zara licked her lips. These were two fine—no, make that outstanding—cocks. And yeah, they were both outstanding, as in standing out hard from the guys as they neared the bed.

  Ren's pubic hair was a tuft of sandy blond whorls nestling around the base of a thick and solid cock. Already erect, the head was flowering into a purple-red instrument of delight.

  Kyu, on the other hand, was bare. Not a tiny hair marred the perfection of his groin, thus making his cock look like a battering ram. Long and aroused, it featured just the slightest curve to it. The sort of curve that designers try very hard to imitate when it comes to vibrators. This was a "hit my G-spot" dude if ever there was one. Leave it to the Japanese to come up with the right shape.

  "It would please us to please you, Princess." Ren's voice was getting a bit rougher around the edges and he cleared his throat. "Would you care to...examine us before we fuck you?" He glanced down at Kyu's cock. "Damn. I knew I should've shaved. If it wasn't for those frickin' itchy stubbly bits..." He frowned.

  Zara ignored him, dazzled at the thought of two cocks at her disposal. This was really doubling her pleasure and doubling her fun. Screw the chewing gum. Give her a nice hard popsicle any day. Two nice hard popsicles? Mmm...mmm. Where to start? Decisions, decisions...

  Tentatively, she reached out both hands, grasping a cock with each one. It was awkward, though, making her twist uncomfortably and squashing her breasts. "Um...Kyu, why don't you come over to the other side of the bed?"

  "Hai." He bowed and nodded, following her instructions.

  "Yes. Hi." Zara waited for him to kneel beside her, feeling the bed dip as Ren copied his "brother's" actions.

  "Okay. Better." Now Zara had both cocks within easy reach and she could settle down to play.

  It was fascinating how similar and yet how different they both were. Ren's was a little thicker but lacking that really neat curve that Kyu presented proudly. Zara ran her h
ands softly up and down both lengths, stroking them, learning the interesting little dips and ridges, stifling a giggle as they sucked in air and gasped a bit at her touches.

  "Most enjoyable, Princess..." Ren was hoarse. "Most enjoyable indeed."

  "Well, if you like that then perhaps I might try this..." She opened her mouth wide, pulled Ren close and sucked him.

  "Fucking shit..." The expletive burst out of his mouth.

  Zara slicked her tongue over him. "Like blow jobs, huh?"

  "I'm from California. Whaddya expect?"

  "Good point. But let's be fair here..." She turned to Kyu. "You too?"

  "Hai."

  She paused and glanced at Ren. "Why does he keep saying hi to me? I'm about to suck his cock. We're sort of past the hello stage here..."

  Ren swallowed. "Dunno. Does it matter? Just do it, okay? Then do it to me again...pleeeeeese..."

  "Whatever." Zara tasted Kyu, noting the different flavor, the slight hint of something that might have been a tangy Oriental spice. Wasabi?

  It was delicious, leaving her hungry for more. She returned to Ren, blending his light and fruity essence with that of his brother as both mixed on her tongue. I'm gonna be starving in an hour or so...

  Both men pressed forward, encouraging her, urging her on in her oral quest for pleasure. Eventually Zara did the unthinkable—she took them both into her mouth at once.

  Ren groaned aloud as she drooled over them, sliding her slippery lips around as much of them as she could take. They were leaning against each other, staring down at her, glassy eyed with lust.

  "Oh my fuckin'..." Ren could scarcely speak.

  "Haaaiiiiii..." Kyu's face was flushing and his body trembled.

  Zara pulled her head back and took a deep breath. "This is fun, guys, but perhaps it's time to get down to business..."

  "Don't stop, oh God pleeeeese don't stop..." Ren nearly sobbed.

  Zara thought for a minute. "Okay, how about this? I'll suck you off if Mr. Friendly here goes south and takes care of my needs at the same time." She giggled. "Pretty kinky, huh?"