by A. J. Markam
“…alright…”
I stroked her asshole with the tip of my finger.
Her mouth opened into a wide ‘O,’ and the light in her eyes sparked even hotter and brighter.
Then I eased the tip of my finger in.
Her breasts began moving up and down as she breathed faster.
“You can say ‘stop,’ you know.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered back.
Daaaaamn.
“I won’t, unless you say the safeword.”
She licked her lips, then said, “Stop.”
I eased my finger in a little bit more.
A delighted smile crept across her face. “No – stop.”
I began going deeper.
She began writhing beneath me, shifting her hips so that she was grinding down on both my cock and my finger.
“Oh… no, stop… don’t… don’t do that… no, stop…” she moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head.
I began to move my shaft in and out of her, and my finger deeper and deeper inside her ass.
“STOP… oh God… don’t, please, stop it…” she moaned, her eyes shut in ecstasy.
I’d never even done anything like this with Alaria.
This chick was kinky.
I used my right hand to squeeze one of her nipples – lightly at first, then harder.
“NO… STOP…” she moaned, so I pinched harder.
Her hips swirled faster and began bucking against me.
Then she did the unexpected.
She took my hand from her breast and put it on her throat.
I froze. Meaning, every part of my body that was inside her stopped moving.
Her eyes flew open and she frowned. “Why are you stopping?!”
“Do you really want me to… choke you?”
She gave me a huge smile. “No. Don’t you dare.”
Shit…
This was really of out of my range of experience.
Nevertheless, I began thrusting again with both my cock and my finger, and used my hand to lightly squeeze her throat.
Her eyes rolled back in her head again. “Oh God… don’t do that… don’t do it harder…”
I squeezed harder as I thrust faster.
“Oh GOD… tell me what you’re going to do to me when you finish…”
I let up on her throat. “When I finish?”
“When your… cock…” she whispered, then spoke normally again. “…gets bigger and smaller very quickly, and you yell bad words.”
“Oh – when I come.”
“Is that what it’s called?”
“Yeah. That’s what it’s called when you do it, too.”
“When I feel like I’m flying, and a white-hot light of pleasure has touched between my legs, and everything down there feels so good?”
“Yeah – exactly.”
“Why does your… cock get bigger and smaller?”
Huh.
Though she’d hesitated when she said it, she hadn’t whispered ‘cock’ that time.
“Uh… because white stuff spurts out of it.”
Meera’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Like white light?”
“Nnnnnoooo… not exactly…”
“Like what, then?”
“Sort of like cream.”
“Oooh! I want to see you come!” she squealed.
“You do?”
“Yes – will you show it to me?”
“Better than that – I’ll pull out and come on your stomach.”
She laughed with delight, then stopped to think. “Can you come somewhere else?”
“Sure, where?”
“Can you come on my chest?”
Daaamn.
“Sure.”
She seemed to think again. “Can you come on my face?”
Whoa.
That wasn’t a request I got often from women.
Translation: I never got it from women.
Not even Alaria.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
She stared at me right in the eyes. “Don’t you dare come on my face.”
Holy SHIT.
“All right,” I said, my eyes wide, as I began to rock back and forth inside her again.
“And stop squeezing my throat,” she said.
I drew my arm back –
“What are you doing?! I didn’t say the safeword!” she exclaimed.
“Oh yeah…”
This was getting a little freaky…
I squeezed her throat harder and harder, and thrust my finger deeper and deeper as my cock plunged into her faster and faster – and all the while she was gurgling and moaning and her cries were becoming more and more excited.
I doubled my speed, thrusting harder, faster, deeper –
“I’m coming!” she cried out. “Oh Yanok, I’m coming – I’M COMING – ”
She screamed. I held out for as long as I could, a good four or five seconds into her orgasm, but I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer. Her noises were pushing me over the edge.
I pulled out of her and leaned up over her body, my hand stroking my shaft.
Her eyes opened, and as she looked at my cock just inches from her face, I was sure she was going to start screaming, DRAGON! DRAGON! DRAGON!
But she didn’t.
She got a wide-eyed look of wild delight on her face and shouted, “Don’t come on my face! Don’t come on my – ”
“UNNNH!” I bellowed, and blew my load.
She gasped as white liquid splashed onto her forehead and nose.
“Oh… oh… ohhhh,” I groaned, and stopped jerking myself off as the last little bit dribbled out.
She looked up at me in ecstatic shock, like she couldn’t believe what had just happened. Like she’d seen some sort of heavenly miracle.
As I collapsed back on the couch (excuse me, the chaise longue) beside her, I watched her expression.
I was expecting disgust, or for her to run as fast as possible to the bathroom and start splashing water on her face.
That’s not what happened at all.
First she licked a bit that had dripped close to her mouth, and murmured, “Mmmmm.”
Oh my god…
Then she looked at me with an excited smile. “I liked seeing you come.”
Oh my GOD.
“Can we do that again?” she asked.
OH MY GOD.
“Except this time…” she whispered shyly, “…can you come in my mouth?”
I was hard and ready to go again in ten seconds flat.
17
I woke up the next morning to sunlight pouring in through the windows.
My head was pounding, though not nearly as bad as it usually did when I woke up in the gutter. After all, I hadn’t been drinking nonstop for the last 12 hours.
Just having sex nonstop.
A slight panic gripped me, and I looked over next to me in bed –
Meera wasn’t there.
Thank God.
She’d gotten all cuddly towards the end, which had been a little awkward. The sex was a lot of fun, but I wasn’t into playing boyfriend.
It reminded me too much of Alaria, whom I did enjoy cuddling with. And I didn’t want to be reminded.
Alaria.
Shit.
First I felt on overwhelming wave of sadness. That turned into guilt about everything I’d done last night – until I caught myself.
She always wanted me to sleep with other women. Well, mission accomplished.
Besides, SHE broke up with ME.
Fuck that bitch.
Besides, last night had been fun.
…mostly.
Meera was a little… out there. Crazy kinky, with an emphasis on the crazy.
Eluun’s lecture in the Temple of Pleasure had definitely come in handy, otherwise I might have freaked out a little.
I like sex as much as the next guy, but when you start getting into choking
, ass play, and spanking on the first date…
It was a little weird.
I definitely wouldn’t have expected that from a regular girl, much less an angel.
What was that I’d said about myself the other night?
Still waters run deep.
Ha.
If I was the bottom of a lake, then Meera was the Marianas Trench.
If I hadn’t been so exhausted when we quit, I would have left… but instead I’d drifted off to sleep.
I lifted my aching head to see exactly where the hell I was, and found I was in Meera’s circular bed. Except there were silk toga belts tied to the bed frame and strewn across the rumpled sheets.
Did we use those?!
…oh yeah, we did…
I seemed to remember both tying her up…
…and then being tied down an hour later as she had her way with me. And not gently.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and immediately grimaced as my hangover doubled in intensity. I winced from the light, but at least it was diminished by the sheer, gauzy white curtains.
I got up, walked to the window, lifted the curtains away from the glass, and squinted out.
Damn, what a view.
We were high enough that Exardus stretched out before me like a multitude of tiny white dollhouses and skyscrapers. To the left was the azure sea and the shipyards, and to the right were the slightly orange sand dunes that surrounded the city on all other sides.
I let go of the curtains and stumbled stiffly back over to the bed. I should probably go find Meera, get my clothes, and –
Oh. There they were, lying neatly pressed in a pile on a chair by the door, along with my belt, boots, and scepter.
Well… that was thoughtful.
I got dressed as quickly as I could (which was pretty damn slow because of my hangover) and then opened the bedroom door. Maybe if she was busy doing something, I could just sneak out undetected –
Nope.
She was sitting in a chair across from Stig on the couch (I refused to call it a chaise longue anymore, even in my head), and they were both staring at each other distrustfully.
Great.
Although damn if she wasn’t even hotter in the full light of day. Her skin was perfect white porcelain and her hair was like spun gold. Her toga was not only short enough to bare her long legs, it was just tight enough to reveal her killer curves as well.
It was a good thing she hadn’t been naked beside me in bed or I might not have ever made it out of the bedroom.
As soon as Meera saw me, she jumped up with a beatific smile. “Ian! Good morning!”
I winced at the loud sound and motioned with my hand like Hold it down. “Little quieter, please.”
“Oh,” she whispered as she ran over to me, “are you sick? Do you have a headache?”
“Just a hangover.”
“What is a hangover?” she asked, puzzled.
I stared at her – and then realized, Oh yeah, she’s a friggin’ angel.
“It’s a headache from drinking too much the night before.”
“Ohhhh,” she said, then put on a prim and proper schoolmarm expression. “Yes, no more alcohol for you.”
“Yeah, right.”
She grinned and threw her arms around me in a hug, which jarred my swollen, aching head.
“Gentle,” I groaned.
“Oh – I am sorry.” She eased up but nestled her head against my chest and giggled. “I missed you this morning. You are a sleepyhead!”
Uh oh.
The feeling of her breasts smushed up against me was more than welcome, but the ‘crazy girlfriend’ vibe definitely wasn’t.
I gingerly patted her on the back and looked over her shoulder at Stig.
He wore an expression like, Can we PLEASE just LEAVE already?!
I nodded at him like Hang on just a second.
“Yeah, uh… well…” I mumbled. “Um, last night was great and all… but we should probably get going.”
She pulled back and gave me an inquisitive smile. “Oh – where are we going?”
“Not… ‘we’ like you and me. Stig and I have to be going.”
Her smile fell. “What? But I’m having the servants send up breakfast.”
“Oh…”
That sounded good right about now – I was hungry, despite my hangover – but Stig vehemently shook his head ‘no.’
He was probably right. It would have been cool to hang out in the penthouse for a while longer, but I was starting to get the distinct impression that I was a fly in the ‘boyfriend trap’ web.
Best to make a clean break and get the hell out of here.
“That’s really nice of you, but we still need to get going,” I said.
“Why?” she asked, like a three-year-old not getting the hint.
“…why?” I repeated, my brain fumbling clumsily for a reason that wouldn’t piss her off. It latched onto the most pressing one. “Because we have to make a bunch of gold to pay off Jabba the Hutt.”
She frowned. “Who is Jabba the Hutt?”
“…never mind. I just owe somebody a lot of money, and we need to figure out a way to pay him.”
“Oh, I can give you money!” she said brightly, and reached for the tiny silk purse hanging at her belt.
I put my hand her arm to stop her. “That’s really nice, but no.”
“Why not? You need it to pay off Jabba the Hutt!”
“Varkus the Goblin, actually.”
She frowned. “I do not know this person.”
Yeah, I doubt an angel would know the name of a mob boss.
“Look, you’ve done enough for me already. I can’t take your money.”
“But I want to help,” she pleaded.
“Unless you have 4000 gold, it’s not going to help much.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s how much you need?”
“Yes.”
She shrugged. “I could give you 600.”
WHOA.
Stig lost his impatient Can we get out of here? look and transitioned to a more Oh ho, what have we HERE? expression as he jumped down off the couch and drew closer.
Meera continued, “In a couple of weeks I will get my monthly allowance, and I could give you another thousand – and then more a month after that.”
“Who gives you an allowance?”
She blushed. “You remember how I was banished from Silaros?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, the All-Father did not wish me to suffer, so I am afforded this apartment and a stipend by the temple.”
Jesus.
If they would have given me a penthouse and 1000 gold a month, I would have definitely started going to church.
But it was the ‘couple of weeks’ part that gave me pause. Although the idea of all that sex sounded good, I didn’t know if I could take Meera for that long. Too damn straight-and-narrow.
Well… outside the bedroom, anyway.
Plus, it just wasn’t right for me to take the girl’s money. Not when I didn’t really want to be with her.
“Look, that’s very kind of you, but I just can’t do that,” I said.
Stig threw out his arms like What are you DOING, you IDIOT?!
Meera pouted, then quickly recovered. “Well, if you want to make money, why do you not simply raid the dungeon at the Tomb of Tharos?”
“There’s a dungeon near here?” I asked, surprised.
This was the first I was hearing of it. Then again, I’d never been to Exardus before.
“Yes, in the dunes beyond the city. There are many adventurers who gather there and go inside to find money and treasure.”
Hot DAMN. This might just be my ticket out of this Varkus mess.
Dungeons were scattered throughout OtherWorld, and ranged from the small and simple to the elaborately complex. Unlike in other games where you could get magically transported to dungeons as spots became available, you had to physically travel to ones here.
Th
e good thing about dungeons in OtherWorld was that they scaled their difficulty according to the abilities of the player. In other words, Level 5 players could run a dungeon, and then ten minutes later a group of Level 90 players could run the exact same dungeon, and the computer would adjust the difficulty and hit points of the enemies accordingly.
The higher the level of the player, the better the loot that dungeon creatures dropped when you killed them. Not just money, but armor and magical artifacts that added to your stats (and which could also be sold to pay off greedy, loansharking, ship-building mob bosses).
Which meant that I could grind the dungeon repeatedly and make enough to pay off Varkus on a week-by-week basis.
The bad thing about dungeons was that you needed five people to enter: a tank, a healer, and three damage dealers. For the uninitiated, those are just roles that people played, not classifications like ‘Warlock’ or ‘Mage.’ The heavily armored tank would engage enemies and draw the monsters’ aggro (basically their aggression/attention). The damage dealers would do just that – inflict damage on the monsters. And the healer’s job was to keep everybody alive, especially the tank.
The roles weren’t set in stone. Healers could inflict damage. Damage dealers could tank if need be, if they had enough hit points and armor. And if they were something like a Paladin or Druid and had magical abilities, tanks could also heal.
But usually people assumed a role according to their expertise and stuck to their lane. You needed all five players working together as a unit to survive.
Well, technically you could enter a dungeon with fewer than five people by checking off a box in your menu options, but things got exponentially harder if you did, and not just because you were missing a person or two. It was generally accepted that the game deliberately screwed with teams who went in with fewer than five players. Healers’ spells became suspiciously less effective. Damage dealers would only inflict 75% of their normal damage. Monsters were deadlier and more resilient than their stats would lead you to believe.
Only the hardest of the hardcore ever went into a dungeon with fewer than five people, and only for the challenge and bragging rights, because the loot drops didn’t get any better.
It made sense. OtherWorld wanted to promote interaction between gamers and cooperative play, so it incentivized going out and meeting new players. After all, if everybody could run a dungeon solo and get all the loot for themselves, then a lot of people would do just that.
