His Redemption (TheCorsair and Xana)

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Aurianna could only shudder and clench as Matthias filled her with his seed, and his love. Her hands came down hard on the sides of his head. Catching herself before she hurt him too much more. One more deep kiss as her orgasm passed through her, and she carefully got off of him. She rested against his chest, head lying in the crook of his arm, leg wrapped around his. He caressed her as she shifted into a comfortable position for both of them, pulling the blanket over their nudity.

"I love you, Ari," he whispered

She smiled, or had she even stopped smiling since her release? She wasn’t sure, it didn’t matter, not really. “Is that all you needed? A breathtaking, mind-blowing fuck, and now you know how to love me?” She teased, giggling as she pushed herself up on her elbow. She brought her mouth up for a lazy kiss, a kiss that was more lips than tongue, a kiss that was their breathe against each other’s face and noses and foreheads pressed against one another. “I love you too, Matthias.” One last soft, lingering kiss, and she snuggled back down into the comfort of his arms, exhausted by the events of the day. Contentment took over, pulling up blanket, tucking it under her metal limb, and resting the cool steel hand on his chest.

She wasn’t asleep yet, just relaxed, trying to stay in the moment, hold that happiness tightly before it slipped away. Before she remembered the other Matthias, the demon. The mistress of torment, closing in on them even now, and how this town of humans could defend itself from a demonic army twice its size. How Clara was… How she failed her apprentice, again, how she had done nothing but fail the girl. She tried to drown out everything with the sound of his heart beating in his chest, clinging to the one thing, she had left in this world.
 
Earlier that same day...

Aunt Ingrud clearly hadn't wanted her to go hungry. Or to be bored.

Clara sat on a fallen tree, watching her horse - whom she'd named "Beauty", although she'd deny it if asked - and eating her lunch. When she'd opened the oilskin pack, she'd found a veritable feast: summer sausages, and hard cheese, and several small loaves of tough-crusted bread. Dried fruit and a small jar if preserves. And even two peach tarts. Which she'd justified eating first on the grounds that they'd spoil first. More than eniugh to see her on tbe wek-long journey to Fearfire.

And after that, she might not need the food.

Grimly shoving that thought away, Clara took a final bute of the second tart. Wiping sugary peach syrup from her chin, she stared upwards into the cerulian vault of the sky. It was such a lovely afternoon. Hard to believe that an army of demons was less than a week's march from Monsford.

Suddenly irritable, she picked up a stone the size of her fist and sent it flying with a snap of her wrist. It hit another stone, the force of the impact making both explode in a cloud of rock splinters. "Afodisia," she sighed, unsure if she were swearing or praying as she glumly rested her chin on her hands. "I'm bored. And lonely. All the great hero songs never mentioned that. Hrothgar Dragon-Slayer, bored and lonely."

She snirted, and then froze. Maybe it was just something that she hadn't consciously noticed, or maybe it was divine inspiration, but suddenly she was aware of others drawing near. Boredom and depression forgotten she snapped to her feet, shield ready and sword drawn. "Who's there? Show yourselves!"
 
From the trees, two familiar and welcome figures emerged. “Just us, Clara,” Sigurd said with his hands up, “Please don’t kill us.” He was only half playing with his remark. Thora followed behind n her white horse, shaking her head at her fiance.

Clara laughed lightly, letting her fighting instincts dissipate, “Never.” She sheathed her weapons as Thora moved closer, unable to hide her joy at seeing her close friends and…well, whatever they were now, after last night. “But what are you guys doing out here?”

“You think we would let you make the journey alone?” Thora asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Clara could help but notice as nice Thora’s leather armor looked against her figure, her breasts pushed up into a pleasing rack of cleavage. She shook her head, not sure she was up for another night like the one they had just shared.

She knew she should make them leave. This was her burden to bear, it wasn’t right to rope them into it. But she was just complaining about boredom and loneliness, wasn’t she? Besides, she might have been an Aspirant, training to be a Paladin, but it didn’t mean she was immune to danger, or anything that might happen on this trip. She might have been willing to sacrifice herself for Monsford, but dying before that would be a waste of time. Having two additional sets of eyes was certainly useful.

“I would like that.” Clara admitted, trying not to think about how her night might be spent from here on out. She tried not to notice that Sigurd’s armor also fit nicely against his hard muscles, and showed off his built arms, the arms that held her close as they danced and shared a kiss. She got up and packed her food up once more, needing the distraction of duty more than the distraction of desire, and climbed back up on her horse.
 
"See, Thora?" Sigurd laughed. "I told you she'd appreciate the company!"

Thora rolled her eyes. "Who told who?" she said in a sweet voice, elbowing him in the ribs. Her arm deflected off the boiled leather breastplate of his ring mail.

Clara shook her head as she packed her lunch away. "It doesn't matter," she told them both. I really do appreciate the company. But... are you sure you're..."

"Hey," Thora interrupted, hitching her thumbs in her belt, "just because we're not Paladins, it doesn't mean we're helpless."

Sigurd nodded. "We live in Monsford, Clara. We know how to fight."

At that moment, she was glad her back was to her two friends. Wiping a tear from her eyes, she made herself laugh. "All right, all right, you win. But..." a shudder passed through her. "What about Lord Verrier?"

The other two teens fell silent. "Well," Sigurd finally sneered, "in for a penny, in for a pound, right? We can always pretend the fest was for all of us."

"We do fit the criteria," Thora agreed, covering her nerves by striking a pose - hips cocked, back erect, chest thrust out. "The two finest youths of the kingdom." She laughed nervously. "Besides, we're bringing him news. Warning him of a threat to his lands. Surely he'll reward us..?"

They're as scared as I am, Clara realized. Maybe even more. And they followed me anyway.. Overcome by a sudden wave of gratitude and love, Clara spun and threw her arms around them. All three embraced, each drawing comfort and courage from the others. "Thank you," Clara whispered.

"Hey," Sigurd answered with a cocky grin and a voice laced with bravado, "what are friends for?"

Clara returned the grin with one of her own. "Right. Exactly." Releasing th m, she swatted Thora on the rump. "Now saddle up, you two. We need to make at least ten more miles by sunset!"

Thora gave her an appraising look. "And here I was," she said, licking her lips, "thinking we wouldn't saddle up until after we stopped for the night..." She held Clara's gaze for a moment, then giggled as the younger girl blushed scarlet.
 
The trio traveled for the rest of the afternoon without incident, keeping a steady pace while they joked and laughed and caught up on the years they had missed. The sun was red, and low in the sky when stopped for the evening. Cuddled around the fire, they shared a meal.

“So, Clara, up for another round?” Thora teased, pulling Clara into moist kiss. Clara was caught off guard, closing her eyes into embrace, caressing Thora’s soft curves. Clara’s mouth moved down to her friends supple neck, nipping at the lovely purple veins under Thora’s fair skin. Hands she couldn’t see roamed down her body, working at her out of her armor, massaging her thighs. She couldn’t deny an ache in her loins, but the further things went, the more she began to realize that ache wasn’t desire. She stiffened as fingers teased her slit over her pants.

“Sorry you guys, I am not up for it tonight,” Clara admitted reluctantly, “I am still tender from last night. It was my first time, after all. You guys go ahead, I’ll just watch.” She gave Thora one last long kiss before pulling away. Sigurd released a long exhale.

“Thank the Goddess, I wasn’t sure I could take another round with you two like last night,” He laughed sheepishly, leaning against a nearby rock while the two girls rested against him.

“No rush then. We have some time until we get to Mount Fearfire,” Thora mused, running her fingers through Clara’s hair. The group fell asleep like that, Clara and Thora resting their heads on Sigurd’s chest, holding each other’s hands, and legs intertwined. It was comforting, if not perfectly comfortable, and certainly warm enough for the evening.

When the sun rose the next morning, Clara rose with it. She let Thora and Sigurd sleep in for a while, making her way to the water to bathe, suddenly self-conscious about how she smelled, given the pleasant company she was now keeping. The water was nice this morning, a bit cold but not as bad as some of the times when she traveled with Lady Aurianna and Matthias. Plus she could lie out in the sun while she waited for her friends to wake up. And even have some fun this morning, before they headed out!

So distracted by sweet thoughts, Clara wasn’t immediately aware of the movement in the water. Not until it slithered closer, cool scales rubbing against her legs. She couldn’t help but let out a blood curdling scream as she processed the sensation, her greatest fears materializing before her. She moved to the shore as quickly as she could, the waist deep water slowing her some as she bolted for her sword. Thora and Sigurd were up, bewildered by Clara’s sudden screech.

“What is it?” Thora asked, war hammer in hand, shaking and disoriented. She didn’t even have time to be distracted by Clara’s nude and wet figure.

“SS…SSS…Snake!” Clara managed to choke out, as a twenty foot anaconda surfaced, snapping it’s jaws at the group.
 
Sigurd, always a heavy sleeper, was a little slower to respond. Sword in hand, he stumbled over. "What? What is FUCK!" The last word came out as a yelp as he saw the snake slithering out of the water.

Clara scrambled over to her clothes, and drew her blade with frantic haste. Spinning, gripping the hilt with shaking hands, she leveled the sword at the animal. "Sna.. sna... snake..." she gabbled. "Big snake!"

Relaxing a little, Thora shook her head and laughed. "Still don't like them?"

"NO!"

Running her fingers through her hair, Thora glanced at her fiancee. "Sigurd? Would you be a dear and take care of the giant snake?"

He leered at her. "I thought that was your job?"

She punched him, more or less playfully. "Idiot."

Chuckling, hefting his sword, Sigurd advanced on the beast.



The smell of roasting meat filled the little campsite. Mouth watering from the odor, Clara bit tenatively into her breakfast. It was good. A little chewy, perhaps. And the taste was reminiscent of beef without tasting anything like beef. Certainly not as horrible as she'd been expecting. "I can't believe I'm eating snake," she muttered.

"It didn'r bother you two nights ago..." Sigurd laughed.

Thora rolled her eyes. "You just aren't going to let that go, are you?"

"Nope," he declared, deadpan. "I'm kind of attached to it."

"Clara?" Thora asked, equally deadpan. "Can I kill him? It'd be a mercy at this point. Clearly, he's gone soft in the head."

Shaking her head, Clara finshed the last of her roast snake. "Hurry up," she told them. "I want to try and make another twenty miles by sundown."

"Should we wrap up the rest of this?" Sigurd asked, waving to the roasting meat. "There's not quite enough for everyone, but..."

"Yeah," Clara answered. "We can warm it up when we stop. And maybe Thora and I can share the snake..."
 
“Yes, I quite like the sound of that,” Sigurd teased with a wolfish grin to Clara. Thora pushed him playfully.

“Don’t forget, my dear Sigurd, Clara and I are quite capable keeping each other warm enough ourselves. Isn’t that right?” Thora rebuked, with an impish smile that matched Sigurd’s. Clara could only laugh in response.

“Alright, I will keep a civil tongue in my head, until one of you ladies request otherwise,” Sigurd suggestion, managing to fit one more innuendo into the morning conversation.


They continued their journey without much more interruptions that day, finding a concealed cave to rest in that night.

“So Clara, I had a question. Not that we aren’t glad to see you, especially now, but why didn’t the temple send more Paladins?” Thora asked as she ate her share of the remaining snake.

“Huh?” Clara asked absently, chewing the rather chewy meat.

“I mean, you were sent form the temple, right? Because of the demon army marching on Monsford? Is the temple sending more Paladins, to help us?” Thora asked, hopefully, the first signs that her friend was not as in control as she often appeared.

“We…we weren’t sent,” Clara said softly, turning away from her friends now.

“What do you mean?” Sigurd asked, running his hand down her arm.

“We weren’t sent from the temple. We fled the temple.” Clara admitted, suddenly shaking as the night replayed itself in her head.

“You…fled?” Thora repeated.

Clara wasn’t sure if she should tell them what she saw. If it were Lady Aurianna, she would lie, make something up, play it off like it didn’t matter, or change the subject. She would hold it in, behind a cold expression. But, Clara wasn’t Lady Aurianna. She couldn’t hold all this in, not any more.

“My mistress was…raped,” Clara said, feeling the tears flow freely now, “I saw it. Her…Her fiancé, he…he hit her… and he forced her…Goddess…and his friends, they… I killed them.” She wailed into Thora’s arms, shaking hard as all the emotions she had held on to, held on tightly to, for Lady Aurianna’s sake, came up.
 
FFM smut scene: Clara, Thora and Sigurd
  • Index
    • Thora wrapped her arms around Clara, giving Sigurd a wide-eyed look of shock and horror as she did. Sigurd, startled by the revelations, mirrored her expression. "But..." Words failed him for a moment. "But... they're Paladins!"

    "I know!" Clara sobbed, shaking in Thora's embrace. "I know. But they... he... they... oh, Goddess!"

    Thora held her tighter, stroking her hair. "They... they didn't..." She tried to think how to ask the next question. "Were... did you..?"

    Clara shook harder as the meaning of the question percolated. "No." She squeezed her eyes tight, trying not to remember the details of that night. "But... when I... I stopped them. Killed them. They, they would have. They, they joked about it. Laughed."

    "But they didn't," Sigurd said, kneeling down and embracing both women. "But, uhm, why did you have to run?"

    Thora nodded. "Surely, surely the Paladins would have believed you? Known it was self-defense?"

    "Because..." Clara gulped. "Because... that bastard... her, her fiancee. He escaped. Started... started calling... the guard. Claimed that... that Lady Aurianna was.. was a demon... demon servant." Which was mostly true. No need to mention Matthias.

    "But..." Sigurd started to say.

    "She'd been captured. By Baath-Me'el. And escaped. And we'd just killed six P... six men." There was a grim expression on her tear-streaked face. "We didn't want to, well, get a, a posthumous apology. So, we ran."

    "Gods," Thora whispered, holding her friend close. Sigurd didn't say anything, because "I'm glad the bastards are dead" seemed the wrong thing to say at that monent.

    Slowly, in stages, Clara wept out her fear and grief. Her trembling eased, then stopped. Finally, spent, she sighed. "Thank you," she whispered, kissing Sigurd's cheek.

    "That's what friends are for," he whispered back, giving her an uncertain smile.

    "And thank you, Thora," she said. She only intended a quick, affectionate kiss. But something surged through her, a wild need for closeness and comfort and joy, and she found herself deepening the kiss. Her tongue slid between her friend's lips, exploring the wet heat oif her mouth as she pressed herself against her friend's supple form.

    Her chest heaved as she broke away. "I want you," she gasped, love and lust dancing in her dark eyes. She turned a little, dragging Sigurd into a deep kiss. "Both of you. Right now."
     
  • Index
    • Thora tried to meet Clara’s passion and need, but her friend’s unbridled emotions consumed her, to the point Thora could only shiver as she experienced it through her. Still, she tried to return some of that ardor, kissing at the back of her neck as Clara turned her attention to Sigurd. Thora was working at the buckles of Clara’s armor, while Sigurd held her face tenderly, kissing her with increasing desire. Clara only pulled off for a second, tearing her brigandine off with all of her holy strength.

    There was a raw, animalistic urge surging through her, a need to fill the void within her with love and sex. She was only half-conscious of it, only aware of the ache for hand upon her, lips tasting her, bodies pressed against her own. From behind Thora’s mouth was on her neck again, like fire on her skin, and Clara was arching back into her, shuddering in her longing. Sigurd came forward, with Hands on her breasts, caressing and cupping and teasing at the nipples, filling them with blood and yearning.

    Clara was wriggling out of her pants now, the heat radiating between her legs more than enough to keep her warm. Her friends followed her lead, sliding alongside her as her back found the ground, surrounding her with love and comfort, as Thora’s mouth pressed hotly against Clara’s once more. She didn’t stay there long, moving along Clara’s body, planting gentle kisses in her wake, smiling as Clara quivered into every one. Thora moved down her arms and chest, lingering on Clara’s stomach before continuing to savor her strong, athletic thighs. Their fingers intertwined, Clara squeezing Thora’s hand to indicate her pleasure and need.

    Thora’s journey ended between Clara’s legs, lifting her thighs over Thora’s shoulders. Thora’s tongue was sweet and soft against Clara’s sex, the warm muscle perfectly suited to tease her slit, collecting the desire dripping from within her. “Thora….” Clara moaned, eyes rolling into the back of her head, breasts heaving under the weight of her pleasure.
     
    Sigurd lost a few moments on the sweetly erotic sight of his lover and his friend moving against each other, pale skin contrasting with tan and dark hair contrasting with copper. Clara moaned, back arching as she lifted her hips into Thora's mouth, and his cock throbbed in sympathy. He sank down next to the two women, one arm sliding under Clara's back and the other running through Thora's hair. Clara moaned Thora's name again, shuddering with delight, and his lips found hers as he drank his fiancee's name from her mouth. Her arms wrapped around him with surprising strength, pulling him deeper into the kiss, and then she tore away as she cried out in pleasure. "Goddess! Yes!" she cried, then gasped as Sigurd nipped his way down her throat and turned his attention to the hard peaks on her small, firm breasts.

    Thora smiled up at her friend, green eyes meeting dark ones. Her tongue played over Clara's mucky slit, caressing her intimately. She raised herself up on her knees, rear in the air as she slid one hand down between her own legs, and soon her own muffled moans mingled with Clara's as her fingers slipped in and out of her own sex. Then, with a small sound of frustration, she reached up and gently pushed Sigurd away with fingers slick with her own juices. Clara barely had time to whimper at the loss when Thora straddled her face, and then her fingers dug into the flesh of Thora's rear as she tasted the older girl's arousal.

    For a moment, Sigurd merely watched as the two women licked and sucked at each other, lazily stroking his aching cock. Then he slid his hands over Thora's back, his lips following in their wake as he kissed and bit along the curve of her ass. Thora moaned into Clara's sex, then gasped as Sigurd nudged Clara's head to one side and lent his own expert mouth to Clara's enthusiastic one. Two tongues caressed her nether lips and clit, pausing occasionally as they stopped to taste her arousal on each other as they frantically kissed. Groping, Thora found Sigurd's cock and began to pump in time with the two tongues on her sex, her own ministrations to Clara becoming scattered and distracted as pleasure ripped through her until finally, unable to withstand it, her body shook with the force of her release and she screamed her pleasure into Clara's dripping sex.

    Sigurd's fingers dug into Thora's ass as her hand worked on his cock. He groaned in delight at the wonderful friction, and the feel of her walls gripping his tongue, and her taste on Clara's lips. Closer and closer he got, feeling his balls tighten and his cock stiffen as his pleasure built and built. "Close," he groaned, his lips against hers. "Goddess," he groaned again, letting Clara swallow his words and Thora's arousal. "So... fucking... close..." And then, seemingly without warning, his cock spasmed and his seed splattered against the two women. He bucked his meat into Thora's hand as he painted her and Clara with his cum, dimly hearing Thora's release. And as if their own orgasms were the signal, Clara screamed the single word "FUCK!" as she followed her friends over the edge.
     
    While the three might have wanted to get another round of climaxes in, the weight of Clara’s admission and the exhaustion of riding twenty miles got the better of them. So the folded up into sweaty heap of body, lazily kissing and fondling one another until all dozed off. It was nice to wake up the next morning not feeling too sore to ride all day. Clara felt especially refreshed, the weight of what she had done and held in lifted off her shoulders.

    Throughout the day’s ride, Clara couldn’t shake the feeling they were being followed. No, not merely followed, stalked. By midday, Sigurd ad Thora caught on as well, and the group was anxious. There was little choice but to push forward , and hope whatever followed in their wake got bored of the pursuit, or found easier quarry.

    Thing grew tense as the sun began to set, and there was no hint of losing their hunters. Worse still, distant howling and barking could be heard, given the group an idea what might be hounding.

    “Wolves…” Sigurd murmured, hand on his blade.

    “How many do you think?” Thora asked scouting the surrounding for their foes.

    “Hard to say,” Clara added, trying to focus on the sounds of twigs breaking and bushes swushing. “More than one, at least.”

    The wolves appeared to answer their question, eyes glowing white. The three soon discovered that these were not common wolves, each one just a touch smaller than the horses they rode. Their massive jaws could easily crush a head and break even the larger bones. The three dire wolves spread out, circling the adventurers, snapping at the horse’s legs.

    Clara struck first, slamming the flat end of her broad sword against the side of one’s head. The wolf yelped and retreated, but the other two lunged in response. One hooked it’s jaws onto Thora horse, latching into its leg. Thora jumped off before she could be thrown, slamming her war hammer into the wolf’s back to get it to let go of her horse. The wolf released its prey, snapping at the petite girl in retribution. Clara rushed in to Thora’s defense, sheathing her blade deep into the beast’s stomach. The animal fought wildly until Thora caved in its skull with a powerful downward slam.
     
    When Thora's horse went down, Sigurd wheeled his horse around to help her. This is what nearly killed him.

    His horse screamed and the world spun around him as, more through luck than skill, he threw himself clear. The ground roared up to meet him, and everything greeted out in a blur of pain as he bounced on the hard-packed trail. Dazed and aching, he groped for his sword. With a snarl the third dire wolf was on him. He brought his left at up by reflex, trying to defend himself, and screamed in pain as massive jaws crunched into his forearm. Desperately he drove his dagger into the beast's neck, hanging on tight in a frantic effort to keep his arm from being tornf from his shoulder as the massive head shook him.

    "Sigurd!" Thora screamed, momentarily numb with horror at the sight of her fiancée griped by bloody fangs. Then she rallied, bellowing a war cry as she charged and kept on the wolf's back. Sigurd crashed to the ground in a shower of blood and froth as the wolf shook, trying to dislodge the unwanted weight. She dug fingers into fur, then reversed her hammer and swung. The pick end smashed deep into the wolf's skull, and it went wild with pain. Clinging to the thrashing beast, she threw her weight against the handle. For a long heartbeat nothing happened. Then a sickening crack sounded as the spike tore free, bringing skull fragments and brain matter with it.

    Clara kept the dying beast, landing by Sigurd as Thora rolled to her feet. The remaining dire wolf looked up from the carcass of the horse, a menacing growl thundering from gore-drenched lips. "I'm get it's attention," Clara said, raising her sword. "You hit it from the side."
     
    Clara fended off the other wolf while Sigurd and Thora battled theirs. Clara heard the bloodcurdling scream that came from Sigurd, as well as the war cry from Thora, but she couldn’t turn her attention from her foe. She could only hope they could handle it. The wolf tore into the fallen horse, getting in its meal before striking the remain humans. Clara was about to strike it down, sword hoisted high in the air…

    “Wait!” Thora shouted, standing before Clara. Clara stopped short, a confused look on her face, but wanting to trust her friend. “I have an idea. Tend to Sigurd, please.”

    Clara looked over to her friend, wanting to trust her, wanting to believe she had some plan to subdue the fierce wolf before them now. She could only nod, turning to Sigurd and examining the injury on his arm. Goddess, it would be a miracle if he didn’t lose it. She began praying, grateful she had become more familiar with the incantation for lay on hands. White energy surged from her fingertips, undoing the damage the wolf’s jaw had done to Sigurd’s hand. It was still injured, but the severity was greatly lessened, as she wrapped the wound with some bandages.

    “What is she doing?” Sigurd asked, trying to look past Clara at his fiancé.

    “I don’t know, but try to have faith,” Clara offered, helpfully, she hoped.

    Thora approached the wolf slowly, weapon still drawn, held out before her in defense. The wolf eyes her carefully, not stopping it’s consumption of Sigurd’s mount. Thora began speaking, softly at first, so quietly that only the wolf could hear. The beast eyed the girl, still gnawing at the insides of the dead horse, lazily licking the blood form its fur around its maw. Thora repeated the chant, increasing in volume, growing closer to the beast. A growl dripped from its bloodied tongue, signifying its resistance to Thora’s claim. She did not back down, she did not flinch, even as Clara and Sigurd held their breaths in utter terror. A snarl grew form it’s fangs, almost ready to snap at Thora as she drew closer still. Clara had to swallow down her fear, because she knew this was the crucial junction. If she showed dread that Thora could fail, the beast would sense it, and she would, most certainly. Thora’s slender hand reached towards the wolf, it’s white eyes following it, ready to devour it in a single bite…

    Thora pressed her hand against its neck, and almost immediately, its demeanor calmed. Its eyes changed, from the glowing white to a faint yellowish golden color. It did not stopping feasting upon the horse, but no longer concerned itself with the woman beside it. Thora petted it gently for a couple moments longer, exhaling in relief.

    “Thora! What…What did you do?” Clara asked in pure amazement, eyes wide.

    “Lord Verrier’s presence is…it’s too much, for the creatures here,” Thora started explaining, still petting the now docile dire wolf. “His power seeps into the soil, into the water, into the air. It changes the land, and the creatures residing within. Warps them, until they are savage shells of their former selves, animalistic rage their only outlet for the power surging through them. I just…calmed the rage. Relieved the stress of the dragon’s influence.”

    “Incredible,’ Clara could only murmur, in awe of her friend’s gifts.
     
    "Yeah," Sigurd said, eyeing the dire wolf cautiously. "She's pretty awesome. I mean, I don't understand more than half of what she says about Lord Verrier's influence, but..."

    "I serve Lady Afodisia," Thora smiled, rubbing the wolf's head. "In a different fashion from Clara, but I serve nonetheless. And She, at least, has the skill to soothe his rages." A smile. "So why shouldn't her priestess be able to soothe the rage of His creatures?"

    Clara glanced at the wolf with the ruptured skull. "I didn't see much soothing there."

    Thora shrugged. "They hurt what is mine. And I also serve Lord Verrier, do I not?"

    Sigurd laughed, then winced and hissed his pain as his arm throbbed. Turning at the sound, Clara crouched down and examined the wounded arm. "Broken," she finally declared, after Sigurd cried out as she probed the wound with her fingers. Blood still seeped from punctures, testament to the savagery of the bite. "Fractures in both bones of the forearm. We'll need to splint it." Her gaze turned to Thora. "Unless you have magics that will set and heal bone instantly?"

    Thora shook her head. "Poultices and herbs that will speed it, but nothing instantaneous." A pause. "You want to splint it, or shall I?"


    "You're sure about this?" Sigurd asked, concerned and skeptical. "I mean, we could just ride two to a horse."

    Thora shook her head. "No, we couldn't. My horse is injured, and shouldn't even carry a rider until the foreleg heals."

    "Well, you and Clara then..."

    "Get on Beauty," Clara told him, "and stop arguing. I can outwalk a horse any day, really. Hell, if I had to I could probably carry you and still outwalk a horse. So it's not going to kill me or slow us down for me to lead Thora's horse."

    Thora finished adjusting the saddle. "And besides," she said with a grin, "I'll be a wolfrider! How awesome is that?"

    Clara grinned her agreement, and Sigurd rolled his eyes. The wolf, for her part, merely sniffed at the saddle-straps. Still giggling, Clara took the reins of Thora's horse. "Incredibly awesome. Now saddle up. We've still got ten miles or so to make before we camp."
     
    Settling down to camp that evening

    “The wolf needs a name,” Clara declared, as they cooked the rest of the dead horsemeat, and distributed it among themselves and the wolf. “It’s a…girl right?” Clara asked Thora.

    “I mean I didn’t get down and check…but yeah, it’s a girl,” Thora said with a laugh.

    “So, what should we name her?” Clara asked excitedly.

    “Wolf? Is that not good enough?” Sigurd asked, trying not to let the pain make him bitter, but not succeeding very well.

    “No, she needs a name. A proper name,” Clara insisted, scratching her behind her ears. The wolf closed her eyes in contentment.

    “Well, I’d say Beauty, but it seems that one is taken,” Thora teased, as Clara pushed her friend, and Thora pushed her back, albeit with far less strength. “But I do agree with you.” She rested against the large wolf, still gnawing at the horse’s femur.

    “Hope,” Clara said softly. Thora and Sigurd turned to look her now, quizzically.

    “Hmm?” Thora prodded Clara.

    “We could name her Hope. Lady knows we could use some of it,” Clara commented, trying to be positive. She had a conflicted smile on her lips, as she met her friend’s eyes.

    “I like that, “Thora nodded in approval, petting the wolf’s belly. “Hope.”

    Sigurd laughed weakly, picking at his food. “Hope.” He murmured, shaking his head. “I hope she is better behaved than her pack was.”
     
    After a time, Thora spoke up again. "So. What are we doing?" She held up a restraining hand as both Clara and Sigurd began to answer. "No, no, I mean... i know we're going to seek out Lord Verrier. But... what are we doing? When we find Him?"

    Silence for a moment, broken by a sharp crack as Hope broke the horse femur. Finally, Clara drew a deep breath. "Well, there's no way that, that Monsford can hold out."

    Sigurd and Thora nodded. "Right," he agreed. "They're just hoping to delay the advance."

    "Exactly." Clara bit her lip, trying to put her thought process into words. "But... the Kingdom's are Lord Verrier's. And, and we know he's fought to protect his own..."

    "But when the Kurguz invaded Leshane," Thira pointed out, "he did nothing."

    "But they swore to uphold the Covenant," Clara countered. "Do you think the Host of Tornent would do the same? And besides," she continued, pushing on before her friends could answer, "remember the songs of the Kettlepit Plague? When the dead rose and beseiged the Kingdoms? And threatened even the Heavens?"

    Thora nodded, and Sigurd pursed his lips thoughtfully. It was a well known tale in the Kingdoms. Of how Lord Verrier had sought to protect His lands and His people. Of how He had taken Lady Afodisia - in Her guise as the Dragon of the Sun and the Moon - as his mate. And hiw together They had ended the plague and laid the dead to rest once more. "I... see," Sigurd said, slowly.

    "Lord Verrier's power has kept the Kingdoms free of the demons, " Clara said.

    "It's why the beasts of field and forest are so savage," Thora added, stroking Hope's flank.

    "So, I doubt He'll welcome an invasion," Clara said. "So, I'm going... to ask Him to, to act... quickly."

    "We're," Sigurd corrected. "We're going." Thora nidded agreement.

    "No!" Clara snapped, horrified. "No! Because... because, if necessary..." She swallowed, hard. "Because the Tribute is our sign of obedience to the Covenant. And, and, if necessary... then I'll serve as Tribute. To, to remind Him..."

    Thora and Sigurd shared a long look. A look filled with unspoken communication. "We're not leaving you, Clara," Thora said, softly.

    "You have to!" Clara answered, anguished. "You're my friends! I'm a Paladin - or would have been. Dying to protect you... to protect others... is part of my duty. If necessary. But you..." she groped at the air. "You've got your whole lives left. Marriage. Family. Getting old together. And I, I, I love you too much to, to..."

    "We love you too, Clara," Thora murmured.

    "That's why we're going with you," Sigurd agreed. Both of them scooted closer, taking Clara's hands - Sigurd a little carefully. "Because you need to get old with us, too."

    "I'm," Clara started to say, but Thora laid a finger on her lips. "Shhhh..." she smiled. "We've talked about this, Clara. Sigurd and I. We're going with you. To Fearfire. To Lord Verrier. For as long as we live."

    "Just say you'll go with us, too," Sigurd added, smiling.
     
    Clara could hardly hold back the tears as her friends insisted on traveling with her. It was a noble gesture, and yet she knew in the back of her mind, she couldn’t let them. She appreciated the company, and needed it too, as the fight with the dire wolves proved. She loved them, loved them both, and this was not their burden to bear.

    Lady Aurianna, what should I do? Clara bemoaned into the night, as she cuddled up to Thora, who rested her head on Sigurd’s shoulder. The two of them were already almost asleep, but the questions of Clara’s duty kept her up this evening.

    Lady Aurianna had offered to make the trek for her. Clara was quite sure that had she been well, she would have insisted, and left before Clara could have stopped her. She would have lied to protect Clara’s feelings, and did what she wanted. Did shat she would have had to do.

    By tomorrow evening, they would be at the base of Mount Fearfire. Two more days to reach the summit, and Lord Verrier. Clara knew what she had to do. Leave them behind, so they could live their lives, the way they were supposed to. They didn’t need to know what she intended on doing. They would try to stop her. Try to sacrifice themselves too. Clara couldn’t allow that. So, her determination steeled, as she held Thora close to her, kissing her friend behind her ear, and taking in her sweet scent.


    Clara woke the next morning to the lovely smells of breakfast, stretching and yawning contently.

    “Morning” Thora called out, boiling a pot of water, while she munched on an apple. She hadn’t yet put on her armor, and the sight of her friend’s soft body under her traveling clothes made Clara’s heart flutter.

    “Morning,” Clara managed, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Then a bitter smell accompanied the savory aroma of cooking meat.

    “I’m making some moon tea this morning. I am guessing you need some too?” Thora offered, pulling out a small tin. Clara recognized the smell, from a week ago, when she still traveled her mistress. Right before every went to hell.

    “I…umm… do I?” Clara sked, still not completely processing what Thora was asking her.

    “Well, your Paladin calling is going to be cut pretty short otherwise.” Thora joked, pouring the boiling water into two cups, and handing one to Clara. The stench was strong, and Clara wasn’t going to be able to stomach it. “It’s best to drink it down quickly, before you can taste it,” Thora offered, and demonstrated.

    Is it even going to matter? Clara thought to herself, and sighed, before drinking down the tea, coughing heavily. “Ugh, that stuff is terrible.” Clara complained, handing the cup back to Thora.

    “Yeah, but it’s better than the alternative. At least, until you are ready for that.” Thora pointed out, putting it all away in her bag. “Or we can cut Sigurd off, and just entertain each other.”

    “Well…It’s not that bad,” Clara admitted with a smirk and a giggle.
     
    "What's not that bad?" Sigurd asked, followed by a loud "SHIT!" and a thump as he forgot himself and tried to push up on his injured arm. "Ow. Goddamnit." Both girls laughed, and he looked abashed as he managed to sit upright. "Oh. That stuff."

    Clara sniggered, and Thora smiled, and both of them finished the drink. "Yeah," Clara said. "It's not that bad. Although, uhm, pregnancy really doesn't end your service as a Paladin. Several instructors at the Temple were moms or dads who had chosen to stay behind while their kids were small."

    "Maybe," Thora said. "But are you ready?"

    "Goddess, no!" Clara laughed, once. Then she stared down into her mug, imagining having a child. Imagined sitting lije this, ten years from now, talking and laughing with Thora and Sigurd and holding his baby. Then she sighed, realising that it would probably never happen. Not now. "Right, lets saddle up," sbe said, pushing the sudden, aching loss away. "Long way to go, today."

    "Yeah," Thora sighed, recognizing Clara's change of mood for what it was. "We should be in the foothills tomorrow." She caught Clara's eye. "All three of us."

    Sigurd stuffed some cold horseflesh in his mouth. "You gonna ride that thing again?" he asked, indicating the wolf.

    "Yep." Thora grinned. "Best ride I've ever had."

    "Don't you mean second best?" Sigurd leered back.

    "Nope." Thora patted Hope's flank. "She doesn't need a nap after only two or three hours."
     
    FFM smut scene: Clara, Thora and Sigurd
  • Index
    • The day’s riding went without much trouble. Hope didn’t fight Thora’s direction much. She did catch a half a dozen rabbits along the way, and ate most of them as well, but it didn’t take much time away from the overall trip.

    So that evening, amidst the rocky foothills of Mount Fearfire, Clara once again sat down to a meal of roasted rabbit. So much had changed in that time, since she fled temple with her mistress, and her mistress’ demon. To think she fled to avoid death, and here she was less than a month later marching towards it. This was her fate, wasn’t it? Her destiny? Most people go their entire lives without finding it. Oh, how she how envied them.

    She cuddled up to Thora and Sigurd as they finished their meal, fighting down the feeling of loss she was experiencing. She need the distraction, of her two friends against her. Thora ran her fingers through Clara’s hair, pulling at the knots gently, lovingly. This was all the invitation Clara needed, to drink a deep kiss form her friends lips. Both girls moaned into the kiss, hand and fingers exploring each other’s bodies, the heat between them rising greatly with each moment.

    “What about me?” Sigurd asked, kissing Thora’s neck from behind. Clara broke off the kiss from Thora for a moment, pulling Sigurd in now. Sigurd brought his good arm up, cupping his fiancé’s breast, as Clara pulled him in close. Thora turned her head to kiss Sigurd now, her hands going under his shirt to feel his abs against her hands.

    Clara stood now, stripping out of her clothes, watching the other two kiss and grope each other, and bit her lip at the sight. The tow stopped for a moment, catching sight of Clara’s nudity beneath the moonlight, and both sighed in near unity.

    “You look good enough to make a man woeful that he is injured,” Sigurd bemoaned, unable to hid the growing bulge in his pants.

    “Well, why don’t you lie down. Thora and I can do the work,” Clara offered, pulling Thora up to her. Clara kissed her beautiful friend, savoring her neck and breasts as she worked the buxom redhead out of her clothing. Sigurd used his left hand to stroke himself, a slow, steady pace while he enjoyed the show. Soon both women were nude, bodies touching, sliding against one another.

    “So, Thora, you want his tongue or his cock in you?” Clara negotiated, bringing her breast up to her mouth to lick and suck her nipple. Thora moan into the night, throwing her head back in pleasure.

    “Why don’t I sit on his face, and we can share his cock. Get him all lubed up so you can ride him,” Thora recommended, bring a hand down to squeeze Clara’s ass. Clara squealed, and giggled, looking up at Thora.

    “I’d complain about you two taking about me, as if I weren’t here, if it weren’t so hot to hear how you two plan on using me for your pleasure,” Sigurd admitted, stroking himself harder now, his cock throbbing in longing for the two beautiful women before him.

    “I don’t say you could talk!” Thora snapped playfully, pushing her fiancée down, and sitting on his face.
     
  • Index
    • Clara nudged Sigurd's legs apart and knelt before him, leaning forward to kiss Thora as she did. She moaned with pleasure as the redhead cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples until they were almost painfully hard. Her own hands gently peeled Sigurd's hand from his cock, then gently wrapped around his hardness and began to stroke up and down. "Has he finally put his tongue to better use?" she grinned.

    Thora threw her head back and moaned as Sigurd's tongue thrust into her slit. "You have no idea," she sighed, moaning again as the flexible organ expkored her depths.

    Clara's tongue filled her mouth, thrusting deep in unconscious imitation of the tongue in Thora's sex. As she did she played with the drops of precum leaking from Sigurd's cock, spreading it gently over his blunt head. "Better than me?" she purred.

    "Goddess!" Thora gasped as the tongue circled her clit. She leered at Clara. "We'll have... to test that. Sometime. Not... now..." Her hand joined Clara's on her lover's dick. "Think he's hard enough?"

    "Not sure," Clara said, pouting a little. "Let me check." Scooting backwards, she crouched low before Sigurd. After losing a moment watching his tongue and lips on Thora's slit, she wrapped her lips around his head and thoughtfully sucked the precum from him. He gasped into Thora and tried to buck his hips, but the grip the two had on him made that difficult. "I don't know..." she said, thoughtfully. "Mind checking?"

    Thora leaned down, spreading herself wider for her lover as she did, and sucked his head into her mouth. Clara released her grip on him as she did, then ran her tongue up his pulsing shaft. When she reached Thira's lips, the redhead let him slip from her mouth as the two girls kissed. "Getting there," she purred. "But... ah! It's... it's.... uuuh... your, your.... call..." She closed her eyes, sighing as Sigurd explored her sex. "You... you get him, him, first..."

    "Hmmm..." Clara mused playfully, lips hovering over his wet head. "Maybe..." She took him in her mouth once more, lips sliding down his shaft until they met Thora's hand. He gasped loudly at the feeling, the gasped again as Clara's lips began sliding up and down. "I think he's ready," she finally decided, letting his spit-shined meat slip from his mouth.
     
    Clara climbed up Sigurd’s body, meeting Thora in another hot kiss, as both women sat on top of him. Thora brought her hands down to Clara’s sex, teasing her clit and spreading her lips open to take her fiancé’s cock. Clara whimpered at the touch, holding Sigurd in place to slid herself over him.

    “Goddess,” She murmured, until she buried him in her wet heat. She could feel the frantic pulsing of his cock within her tightness, throbbing against her inner folds. Thora was still teasing her clit, massaging her slick opening full of cock. Clara groaned as she start moving along Sigurd’s length, gasping as his girth stretched her, the friction of their union driving her wild. She nipped hungrily at Thora, teeth nibbling at her ear as she sought relief from the intense fervor coiling in her core. Sigurd thrust up into her, as Thora rubbed her clit and Clara could only moan, shivering against the attention she was receiving. Somehow, she managed to bring her hand to Thora’s clit, mirroring her friend’s movement, trying to match her pace.

    “Fuck, it feels so good,” Thora exhaled, the combined effort of Sigurd’s tongue and Clara hands pushing her towards her orgasm. She bucked her hips against Sigurd now, unable to control herself, unable to stop herself, the sights and sensations overcoming her pleasingly. Sigurd tried hard to please her, focusing his attention on her building arousal. It was difficult to concentrate, with Clara’s slit squeezing him so lovingly, gripping his cock with a tight, moist fist. Thora’s fingers weren’t helping, or that is to say, they were helping, help him reach his release, pushing her over the edge, no matter how hard he tried to hold back. Being used to please these two women, as they fucked themselves on him, kissing and moaning into each other’s mouth was unbearably sweet. So she pushed himself into Clara, meeting her hips each time she bounced, filling her body with his meat, splitting her upon his cock.

    Clara writhed hard on Sigurd, losing herself in the passion of the moment, throwing her head back as she sheathed his cock again and again, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” They weren’t even words anymore, just sounds escaping her mouth as she rode Sigurd’s cock with abandon.

    Thora grabbed her roughly, filling her mouth with a needy tongue, crying out her release into Clara’s hungry mouth. Sigurd followed suit, pushed his length with Clara’s depth, pumping his searing cum into her, coating her with his lust. It was Clara’s turn now, convulsing on his meat as Thora fingered her clit, quivering at the euphoria of their bodies working in tandem.

    Clara and Thora tumbled off their fuck toy, holding each other close as they kissed and caught their breath. Both came forward to kiss Sigurd, eagerly tasting Thora’s desire on his lips, and then upon each other’s lips. The salty sweet taste on Sigurd’s mouth made Clara greedy, As she pushed down her redheaded friend, licking and sucking at Thora’s cunt, and thrusting two fingers in and out.
     
    Thora gasped, shivering with need as Clara pushed her to the ground and pinned her hands above her head. The sight of the hunger in the Paladin's eyes, the aggressive way she claimed her mouth, made liquid heat pool in her belly. She writhed beneath her dark-haired friend, molding her body against Clara's smaller, stronger form. She whimpered as Clara's mouth left hers, then gasped aloud as the Paladin's lips worked down her body. Fierce and hungry, Clara wasn't gentle, and the tiny shocks of pain as Clara marked throat and breast and belly made her gasp for pleasure.

    "Cum for me," Clara breathed, her voice a husky snarl as she drove two fingers into Thora's dripping snatch. Her tongue joined her fingers, exploring Thora's folds hungrily. Her legs went over Clara's shoulders and her fingers twisted in dark hair as her body bounced and heaved under Clara's assault. Gasps became moans became cries of pleasure as Clara fucked her with fingers and tongue, until her whole body arched taught and she screamed with the force of her orgasm.

    Sigurd stared in awe as Thora collapsed to the ground, breasts heaving as she fought for breath. His cock, rock hard from where he'd stroked himself watching the show, rested forgitten in his fist. Clara rose up on all fours, mouth glistening and hair tangled and eyes filled with hunger. She prowled towards him on hands and knees, moving like some jungle cat, and she pulled his hand away. "I know how she tastes," replacing his hand with her own. "But what about you?"

    Before he could answer, her lips surrounded his meat. She bobbed up and down his shaft, her eyes never leaving his. On the third try he felt his head bump the back of her throat, and her purr of delight rumbled down his shaft. His eyes closed as he fell back, hips thrusting into the wet heat of her throat. Then there was cold air on his shaft as she rekeased him.

    "Uh uh," she admonished, pinning his hips to the ground with one arm. Her other hand cupped his balls. "You cum when I'm ready." And then her mouth was on him, around him, lips wrapped around the base of his shaft as she swallowed him whole, and alk he could do was thrash beneath her at the excuisite torture.
     
    Thora watched Clara swallow Sigurd’s meat, heaving from the force of her own orgasm. It seems Clara was voracious in her appetite. It took a moment to two or recover, before Thora could join in once more. She came behind Clara, bring her mouth up to Clara’s drooling snatch, returning her friend’s earlier attentions. She could taste the mixture of Sigurd’s seed and Clara’s lust, and she lapped hungrily at the blend. She brought her fingers in as well, thrusting and twisting within Clara’s depths. The pleasing momentum was enough to interrupt Clara’s rhythm on Sigurd’s cock.

    Clara groaned against Sigurd, as Thora fingered her hard and fast, a slick noise filling the air, unable to hide the bliss she was feeling. She bucked against the fingers inside her, pushed her towards delight, distraction her from teasing Sigurd. Still, she bobbed up and down his meat, lathering him with her saliva, groaning at the musky scent of his manhood. His moans and cries were sweet, as they were torn form his lips. Her hand slid down in time with her sucking, until she released him, seeking his hand blindly as he grew harder and pulsed between her silky cheeks.

    “Clara!” Sigurd cried as he shuddered his release, rich streams of semen filling Clara’s mouth and flowing down her throat. Clara hungered for his seed, licking every errant drop, meeting his eyes with a lustful look. She turned to Thora as Sigurd grew soft, let her friend taste the hot cum on her tongue and taste her own yearning on Thora’s.

    Thora did not stop finger fucking Clara, merely adjusted for the new position they were in, determined to bring the younger woman to her own orgasm. Clara fought back, biting hard into Thora’s throat as the sensation became too much, leaving her with a dark red mark as her cunt contracted in rapture. Thora cried out the pleasure, not stoping her pace despite the vice grip Clara’s slit had on her fingers.
     
    Clara slumped against her friend, body slick with sweat and muscles quivering from the force of her orgasm. She didn't speak, barely able to gently kiss Thora's face and throat as the redhead's fingers still moved within her. Every inch of her ached with a glorious fatigue, and she considered merely snuggling into the other woman's embrace and falling asleep. Then she moaned a little as her inner walls spasmed around Thora's fingers again. "Goddess," she murmured, "you're amazing."

    "We all have gifts," Thora answered, smugly.

    Clara rolled onto her side, lazily exploring Thora's body with a hand. She was soft. Not fat or weak, but curvy and well-padded. Not like her own figure, which she still thought of as skinny and boyish. She cupped one of Thora's large breasts, gently squeezing, and licked her lips at the soft sound of pleasure her friend made. "But, it seems I've been selfish."

    "Hmm?" Thora wondered aloud, more intent on the feel of the hand on her breast and the heat of the body pressed against her. Bodies, as Sigurd crawled over and snuggled in against her other side.

    "I've had Sigurd in me twice tonight," Clara said, kissing her friend. "Thick and hard, filling me." Her hand drifted down Thora's stomach, brushing over her slick sex. "And you haven't had him at all..."

    Sigurd pushed himself up on his good arm. "I don't know that I'd call you selfish. Not after..." He fell silent as Clara pressed a single finger, wet with Thora's arousal, against his lips.

    She shook her head. "Very selfish," she smiled. "Poor Thora needs something thick and hard in her, after all her work. Don't you agree, Thora?"

    Thora kissed Sigurd slowly and lingeringly, sucking her dampness from his lips. "Oh, yes. Clara's been so selfish..." Her hand closed around his slowly stiffening cock. "Taking this all for herself. I think you owe it to me to fuck me. Hard. While Clara watches."

    Sigurd answered by circling Thora's aureole with her tongue, and Clara watched him grin as the redhead gasped and arched her back into his mouth. "Are you sure?" he smiled, running his tongue over her nipple. "I mean, it might be a while before I cum for you..." His fingers slipped into her sex with a wet sound, and she moaned aloud. "And I'm not sure you're quite in the mood..."

    "Godsdamnit!" Thora whimpered, eyes clenched as Sigurd's fingers worked in her. Her head tossed. "Stop fucking around, and fuck me!"

    Clara's hand joined Sigurd's, her fingers slipping over his as she helped fill Thora's slit. "I don't think he heard you," she purred, pressing her fingertips into the redhead's walls. "What..."

    "Fuck! Me!" Thora gasped out.

    Clara's fingers slipped away, trailing her arousal over her thighs as she spread Thora's legs. Thora whimpered at the loss of Sigurd's fingers, then licked her lips as her man knelt between her legs. The blunt tip of his meat brushed over her lips, and her hips rose in an effort to take him in. He pulled away, watching her intently. "Now..." he asked, stroking himself lazily and teasing her sex with his cock, "what did you want?"

    "Fuck me!" she begged. "Please, fuck me!" Her words were lost in a cry of joy as he drove himself into her, hilting in her with a single smooth thrust.

    Clara shifted, turning to bring her face close. The sight of Sigurd's meat, spitting Thora's slit and glistening with her juices, made her own sex dampen once more. She watched as Sigurd began to slowly move, withdrawing and sliding in again, Thora's lips clinging to his shaft with every thrust. Thora raved and begged, demanding that he fuck her harder and deeper and faster, and Sigurd merely smiled and kept the same deliberate rhythm. In, pause. Out, pause. In, pause. Out, pause. Finally, licking her lips, she moved closer. Both Sigurd and Thora gasped as her tongue ran over her clit and up his shaft.
     
    Sigurd tried to maintain his teasing pace within Thora, measured thrusting determined to drive her wild. The slick feel of Thora’s walls was making it difficult, difficult not to plow her with all his strength. Her begging cries and moans made it worse, as sweet as they were to hear. He wanted to lose him within her, fuck her hard and long without the impending need of orgasm hanging over him. But Clara, was making it impossible, as her hot tongue traced along his meat and over Thora’s clit. The sensation of Thora clenching tightly as Clara teased her tight drew a gasping cry from Sigurd’s throat, forced still within his convulsing fiancée. And he pulsed against the intruding tongue as well, shivering from the feel of brushing against Thora’s softness.

    Clara’s actions sent both of them into a frenzy, Thora bucking and writhing against Sigurd, Sigurd stroking hard into her pulsating slit. Thora arched into him, desperate to feel his length within her, driven mad by the sweetness of Clara’s tongue on her clit. Finger fisted in her own hair as she tried to manage the overwhelming pleasure she was feeling, the insane orgasm building with terrible leisure.

    “Fuck me!” She begged, rasping breath, leaving her curvy body quivering in need, “Fuck me!!! Fuck…..” She cried. Sigurd grasp on her leg, keeping her spread wide was maddening, made it hard to her to fuck herself on him. Clara held the other one wide open, and it would be impossible to pry it from her grasp. Instead she was forcibly spread open for Sigurd to torment her with the hard thick cock she loved so much.

    “Put it on my shoulder,” Sigurd instructed Clara, still whimpering from her taste tasting his cock as it plunged into Thora’s depths. Clara did as she was told, and Sigurd did that same with the leg her was hold, until both of Thora’s ankles rested on his broad shoulders. Now in perfect position, he smirked down at her as he fitting his shaft within her, unable to resist fucking her hard and fast now.

    “Goddess!!! Yes!!! Afoooo…disia...” Thora called into the night, shuddering from the potent climax. Clara came down to kiss her now, giving her a taste of the fucking Sigurd was pounding into her now. Sigurd was thankful for the load he had pumped into Clara’s body, and the load she had drank down, because otherwise, he might have reached climax alongside Thora. The sight of her body heaving in ecstasy, and of Clara kissing her with their fluid intermingled on her tongue, as exquisite. The feel of Thora’s body, gripping him with wet silk, as he took her at this angle, was amazing. The scent of lust and desire that permeated the air was intoxicating, and Thora’s cries of bliss were divine.

    It all came together beautifully, but Sigurd wasn’t ready to stop fucking Thora yet. He wanted more, he wasn’t even sure he wanted this night to end, this moment to end. The thought that this could be their last time left him needing to fuck, needing to feel Thora around him, Clara against him as she came up to kiss him now. “Turn over,” he growled, breath husky and he pulled out of her.
     
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