Roy looked up from the keyboard. He had been at this for hours and needed a break. If he were close to home he’d just fuck Elaine and feel better, but he was out in the desert and she was back at his house. He stretched, put on his sunglasses and walked outside.
Hunter was firing an old-fashioned Winchester Model 94 repeater at a jackrabbit a hundred yards away. Roy felt a little satisfied that he kept missing; even his fighting machine of a friend had some weaknesses. Hunter fired one last shot and watched the jackrabbit escape into the cactus.
”That’s why I like an M-16. Hell, even an old M1 could have got it,” Hunter said, then he checked the chamber to make sure it was empty and set the rifle down beside the trailer. He turned to Roy, “how goes it?”
Roy shrugged and grabbed a beer from a cooler in the shade. “I’m in. I’ve got taps on all their systems. Anything they do by computer we can read. Some pretty tricky security, but that stuff Greg got me from the NSA finally wormed through it,” he drained half of the Coors and let out a loud belch. “Give it 24 hours to gather data and begin sifting through it and we can find out if they are on the level and if they have any surprises for us.”
Hunter opened his own beer. “That’s what I like about the younger generation, everything has to be digital. No matter how good your crypto is, someone is better. Back in the old days guys kept it all in their heads, or the dumb ones would write it down, but you still had to be there to read it. Now you can read their e-mail and messages from here as soon as they get them.” He took a long drink. “What does your gut say?” Hunter asked seriously.
It was a gut feeling that had saved them at Arsenic Wells. Something just told Roy that the buyers were not to be trusted. Everything else had looked good, the right people said the right things about them, all the digital surveillance had been good. All the i’s were dotted and the t’s crossed, but something just struck Roy as wrong. He could not say what, but there was something. He had rigged up a circle of booby traps, everything from sirens to claymores, around the meeting site and when the buyers pulled guns Roy was on it instantly. Hunter said that he had saved them a half million dollars and, oh by the way, their lives. Since then Roy had gone from being the tech geek to an equal partner.
”I don’t like it,” Roy said. “The deal is a good one, good enough to keep us on the hook, but not so good that we’d get suspicious. I know that somewhere behind all of this is Mark, I just can’t find the proof and that worries me.”
“Keep at it, kid,” Hunter clapped Roy’s shoulder. “No matter what, we’re taking precautions.”
Roy shrugged and picked up the rifle. Hunter handed him box of ammo and Roy loaded the Winchester. About a hundred and twenty yards away was an old 55 gallon drum that had been shot to hell over the past decade. Roy drew a bead on that and quickly fired off the eight shots in the rifle. He was rewarded by eight satisfying clanks as he hit home with each shot.
”Not bad, easier than pushing a rock, isn’t yet,” Hunter said with a chuckle.
”Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do,” Roy frowned at the memory of the truck going over the edge. “Besides, it’s hard to explain bullet holes in corpses.”
“True enough,” Hunter agreed. He grew serious, “you’ve already had to kill two men to keep your new slave. Is she really worth it?”
Roy started reloading the rifle. “Yes. Yes she is. Elaine is amazing. She’s beautiful and a perfectly natural slave. The more I use her and make her submit the more she wants. Hell, I would have killed those two cowboys for her ass alone.”
“You know she is going to present problems? Word is around that Sam really wants her and Sam is not to be denied easily,” Hunter said.
”I know,” Roy said simply. He saw the jackrabbit Hunter had missed. He carefully aimed and fired. The shot hit true and the rabbit flew back, dead.
”Just had to mention it,” Hunter said. “By the way, nice shot. You want to eat that?”
“Nah. Coyotes and vultures need to eat, too.” Roy fired off the remaining shots at some pieces of random trash that surrounded their trailer. They picked this spot because it was in the middle of nowhere, but there was a satellite dish and microwave relay station that they could easily access. “Why don’t you give her a try?” Roy asked Hunter.
”The rifle?” Hunter asked.
”No, Hunter. Elaine. I’ll be here for another day or two, then off to scout the route. Anna is off and my little slave is probably getting lonely,” Roy put the gun back in the rack.
”Well, I’ve done about everything I can do out here,” Hunter said with a grin. “Guess I’ll head to town.”
Roy smiled and got a card for the locks at the house for Hunter. “Have fun!” Roy told him. Hunter got into his black Suburban and drove away across the desert.
Roy had been gone eight days. After the long night in his room, he had left with a quick kiss and said “I’ll be busy for a while.” Elaine had not seen him since. Elaine’s life was not bad without him, but she missed her owner. Her days had settled into a routine: up for breakfast, then an hour or more of exercise in the gym by the garage. Roy had a routine given to him by the Association to keep her body just the way he liked it. Elaine wondered what kind of research staff the Association had on hand for this sort of thing. Then she had some free time in the afternoon, which she usually spent in her rooms surfing, reading or watching TV. Roy had given her an account at Amazon and she had used it to buy stacks of books and catch up on some reading. Right now she was in a Russian literature phase, she had plowed through Doctor Zhivago in a couple of days and moved into War and Peace, but found it a little slow at times. She had made an attempt to re-read some of her old favorites, like Pride and Prejudice, but since Roy her views on male-female relationships had changed so much that Jane Austen no longer interested her.
Anna would let her swim later in the day when the sun was behind the mountains and the heat had let up some, then more free time until dinner. Since Roy was not around, she read and spent more time on her computer until she went to bed alone.
Elaine thought a lot about the night at Mark’s ranch. Being tied up and fucked over and over by the three men had terrified her, and it hurt like hell, but it had been amazing. She remembered being helpless as one after another they did her in the ass, not caring for how she felt, just after their own pleasure. Or how it felt to have one person in her ass and one in her cunt, pounding away at her, making her feel so full. It was almost an out of body experience. She wanted to ask Roy to do that to her again, but was too scared and she thought he would when he was ready.
Some of the days were broken up by running errands. Anna took her to the grocery, another trip to the dry cleaners and once to the post office. On Monday, Anna took Elaine to another unmarked office for a thorough checkup by an Association doctor, on Tuesday back to the warehouse for more packages (and another blow job for J.J.) and Wednesday was her tattoo removal session. Already the turtle was almost gone, and Elaine was wistful about it’s disappearance. It was a reminder of Amanda and her time before Roy, but that was all gone.
But her life was boring. She missed Roy and she missed sex. Anna did not help either; she seemed to have little interest in Elaine except when there was lifting to be done. Anna also found some minor reason to punish Elaine at least a few times a day and Elaine was getting accustomed to Anna grabbing her paddle when she found a piece of paper on the floor, or a towel from the pool not folded perfectly. Elaine was learning to detest the older German, and making her suck J.J.’s cock just added to it. She could tell from the gleam in Anna’s eyes that it was just a matter of time before she let J.J. fuck Elaine.
But starting yesterday, even Anna was off. She had not told Elaine where she was going, only that she would be gone a week and would punish Elaine for every little thing she found wrong with the house. Armed with the knowledge that no matter what she did she would be punished, Elaine was intentionally messy the first day.
Elaine still wore only her collar. Anna had given her several of them that did not have locks and reminded her that she was to wear them at all times when she was not showering or in the pool. Elaine could have disregarded that instruction, after all, how would Anna know? But Elaine liked the reminder of her servility and bondage; being naked except for her collar, ready to be taken and used, just seemed right.
Anna had given Elaine a card for the card locks and a vague reminder that “curiosity killed the slave.” Of course, Elaine was curious and as soon as she was sure Anna was gone, Elaine began exploring. The card allowed her access to her rooms, of course, and the kitchen. All the bedrooms, except for Roy’s, were fair game, but those did not interest her too much. She knew at some time she should be in each of them, tied and and naked while somebody fucked her. Time enough to get to know them later. The attic was pretty boring. It was right next to her rooms, but just had boxes of crap stored in it. She had no desire to go attic diving so left it alone.
On the main floor she found the kitchen, dining room and living room. There was a library and a locked door that led to what she knew was Roy’s office. That really intrigued her, but she imagined the punishment for breaking in there would be severe, assuming she could do it, and she really did not know how. There was a sitting/family room and a media room. It was all impressive, but not that interesting.
Elaine went down to the basement. She could not open the outside garage door, which did not surprise her. If she was going to leave the house she would have to do it on foot, and since she was miles from anything and it was over 100 degrees each day, she was not going anywhere. Anna’s apartment would not open, and Elaine was actually relieved. She did not want to know all that much about her warden.
She walked past the exercise room, she was there every day already. She found Roy’s workshop and lots more storage. He had tons of outdoors gear, a couple of kayaks, and lots of rope. She guessed most of it was for climbing, but she knew he was quick with knots.
Inevitably, Elaine stood in front of the door that led into the long hall into the mountain. She took a deep breath and held the card up to the lock. Much to her surprise, the door opened, the lock retracting with a heavy click. She turned on the light and stared down the long hallway. It seemed cooler already, the earth was insulating this part of the house from the oppressive heat outside. She took a step forward; somehow she thought that whatever mystery there was here would be solved by what was behind the third door.
She padded down the twenty feet and came to the last door. She held her card up to the lock, but this time the lock buzzed angrily and flashed a red light. Elaine did not think she would get in to that room, but she was disappointed none the less. She had seen the room twice when Anna had her carry the unmarked boxes in there and her interest was piqued. What was in all of those boxes? The room was full of them and, despite all of Anna’s warnings, she was a curious woman. She tried one more time, the lock refused again and she gave up for now.
She started back towards the garage, but stopped at one of the other doors. This one opened for her and she found herself face to face with Roy’s wine cellar. It was a smallish room, maybe eight feet by ten feet with wooden wine racks. It looked like only a third of them were full, but Roy seemed to be on his way. A few cases sat on the floor in front of the racks, Roy had not got around to opening them yet.
Elaine smiled and turned around to open the other doorway. This one paused a few seconds then clicked open. Elaine pulled on the door, which was heavier than it looked from the hallway. Behind the door it was dark. Elaine reached on the wall and found some switches. The first two she pushed each started some sort of buzzing and Elaine quickly pushed them again to stop. The third one was a light switch.
Elaine was in Roy’s dungeon. Roy had made no effort to disguise that fact that this room and once been part of a mine shaft. The ceiling was still supported by timbers and the walls were unfinished rock. Rings and hoops were stuck in the wall at various heights and some more hung from the ceiling timbers. There was a rack in the middle of the room and shelves with chains and whips on them. Elaine felt chilled standing in there. She would be in this room, tied to that rack, being whipped and fucked. It scared her, but she was incredibly turned on by the thought, too. On one last look around she saw something that could only be a branding iron. It was a small, maybe an inch high, letter “R”. She picked it up and held it, knowing Roy would mark her with it. She tried to imagine the searing pain as it forced its way into her skin, burning Roy’s ownership of her into her delicate flesh.
Elaine quickly turned and walked out of the room. She calmly turned out the light, then shut the doors on the dungeon and the hallway. She ran back up the three flights of stairs to her room and jumped into her bed. Roy was going to brand her, and find all sorts of other things to do to her in that dungeon. She tried to catch her breath and figure out why she was so upset. Was it fear? Excitement? Dread? Anticipation? Maybe even all that, but there was also knowing that she was going to have to wait to find out. She spent the rest of the night trying not to think about the dungeon and the branding iron.
The next morning Roy called to let her know he would be gone for another week and to advise her to try to keep herself occupied the best she could. He hinted at a surprise for her sometime today, but did not say what. Elaine was horny; at this point even getting fucked by J.J almost seemed like a welcome option. She planned to spend the day doing not much of anything. She could not really leave the house except to go swimming, and that was only really an option in the afternoon. Now she had the big house all to herself and it grew lonely and creepy. They were far from anyone, she knew that, but when the house settled or creaked she found herself jumping and looking for someone. She was relieved and disappointed, too, when there was no one there to ravish her.
After she got off the phone with Roy, Elaine looked at the clock; it was 9:58am. Wow, she had gotten into the habit of sleeping until Anna woke her up, when she didn’t, Elaine slept late. She stretched, went to the bathroom then padded downstairs to the kitchen. She could make coffee in her room, but liked seeing the mountains and the big open space of the living room.
Elaine ground the beans and started the coffee pot. It was only when she turned to look out the window did she realize there was someone else there. She jumped back, startled. She had certainly not been expecting to see anybody, and if she had she expected a familiar face. She had never seen him before, but he looked perfectly at ease.
”Good morning, Elaine,” he said in a crisp voice. “I am Hunter and we will be spending some time together.”
Hunter was about 50 with short blonde hair that was thinning from the front, clean shaven with piercing blue eyes. She guessed he could be considered handsome in a rugged, outdoors sort of way. He wasn’t going to win a beauty contest, but she would give him a second look if she saw him walking down the street. He did have a nice body, though. He was muscular and fit in a way that suggested an active life rather than hours in a gym. She saw in him the same edge of violence she had seen in Sam and others. There was a confidence about him that he would bend her to his will, that she could fight if she wanted, but he would make her do whatever he wanted. That thought made Elaine wet without wanting to.
He walked into the kitchen and smiled,”If you’re good, slave, maybe I’ll call you by your name again later.”
He lifted her chin and looked her in her beautiful blue eyes. She returned his gaze, getting more turned on by the second with the thought of what he was going to do to her.
“You are going to do everything I tell you to do, aren’t you, slave?” he asked. There was a slight accent, a certain clip of the vowels that hinted either northern European or South African somewhere in his background.
”Yes, sir,” she looked back in his eyes, feeling helpless.
”Good,” he smiled. “Now, let’s have some of that coffee.” Hunter walked into the kitchen and sat at the table. When the coffee finished brewing, he watched Elaine pour two cups, drinking in every inch of her beautiful naked body. She poured some milk into hers and turned to him.
”How do you like your coffee, sir?” Elaine asked.
”Black,” he said. Then added, “and served by a beautiful naked woman.”
Elaine smiled and nervously handed Hunter his cup then sat down in the chair he offered her beside him.
”It’s okay, sweetie,” he said softly to her, putting his hand on hers. “As long as you do as your told I will not hurt you, at least, not more than is necessary.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Elaine mumbled and began sipping her coffee.
They drank their coffee in silence. Elaine was glad he did not need to fill in the empty spaces with inane chatter. She knew that in a few minutes he would be inside her, there was not a whole lot that needed to be said. She tried to look out the big window to the mountains and not to look at Hunter, but, invariably her eyes would wander to him and he would be focused on her.
Elaine knew of Hunter, or The Hunter as he was sometimes called. She did not know much about him, but between Amanda and Roy she had pieced a few things together. She knew he was a bounty hunter, he ran down bail jumpers and escaped criminals, but it seemed like he did that as much for fun as for the money. He also chased down escaped slaves and brought them back to their owners. From what Amanda had said, they never escaped The Hunter and none of them ever ran away again. Roy had hinted that he had been with the CIA or some other agency even more secretive and had spent a lot of time “in Asia”. Elaine also knew that Roy and Hunter worked together a lot, and from what she had picked up at Mark’s ranch, they had been together at Arsenic Wells, whatever that meant. She knew he was a killer and someone who easily used violence to get what he wanted and what he wanted right now was her.
There was an unnatural calm to the morning as they finished their coffees. The usual noises of the house; the hum of the air conditioning, the creaking as the big house settled and the soft whirl of the ceiling fans overhead were the only sounds. It seemed so peaceful. Elaine knew that soon this strong, willful man would be pleasuring himself in her and if she did not do everything the way he wanted he would hurt her. The thought of getting fucked did not scare her, she had not seen Roy or had an orgasm in eight days and was eager to be used. What did scare her was not performing well.
Hunter finished his cup and slid the empty cup to Elaine.
”More, sir?” Elaine asked.
”No,” Hunter answered, “we’re finished.” Elaine looked at the half cup she had left and wished she had drank faster. “Take the cups to the sink then come back to me. Do not sit down.” He scooted his chair out from the table and waited expectantly.
Elaine stood and carefully carried the cups to the sink. She set them in without dumping hers, hoping maybe she could finish it later, when Hunter was through with her. She took a deep breath and walked to the table, holding her chin high, mustering all the courage she could even as the need to be taken by Hunter nearly overwhelmed her. She stopped in front of him, displaying and offering her body to him, waiting for his next move.
Hunter slowly looked her up and down. She was indeed beautiful. Thirty years old with a tight body and a clever mind that could appreciate all that was being done to her. She was short, maybe 5’2”, to Hunter’s professional eye he would guess 5’1 3/4” and slim. Her dark blonde hair fell straight to the middle of her back (Roy had told Hunter that he wanted it longer so she would grow it out). Full cheeks and a pretty face were highlighted by her beautiful, big blue eyes. Many a man had fallen for her eyes without ever seeing the rest of her. Elaine tried a wan smile, when she was truly happy her smile could light up a room. She had a slender neck and shoulders that seemed to call out not only to be kissed, but held roughly while pleasure was forced from the rest of her body. The collar suited her well. His gaze wandered to her small, perky breasts. Her nipples were hard and her chest heaved with deep breaths, a mix of arousal and fear. Below was her flat stomach, smooth but not ripped. He looked down at her crotch and the neatly trimmed bush above her slit. Hunter and Roy agreed that pubic hair was nice, as long as it was maintained. Hunter had fucked his share of shaved woman (especially in the last few years as it became more in style), but he liked the way a bush highlighted the area and invited you in. She had beautiful thighs, silky on the inside in a way that funneled you in to her pleasure center. Her calves were a little thin, but tapered into graceful ankles and delicate feet with a high arch and red painted nails.
Elaine held her hands at her side as Hunter looked her up and down, still not touching her or saying anything. Finally, he broke the silence and said “turn around.”
Elaine turned around and presented her back to him. Hunter smiled. Roy had gone on and on about what a great ass his slave had and now Hunter had to agree. Her back was smooth, a few dark freckles here and there against the pale background of her skin. Her complexion was pale, but not pasty white. She got some sun, and had an even light color. Roy was keeping her either inside or with lots of sunscreen on outside. Hunter agreed that the look suited her in a way a deep tan would not. From the back her legs looked just as sexy and inviting. If she was his, Hunter would never let her cover her legs. She would always been in shorts or short dresses, showing her legs for the whole world to enjoy.
Hunter’s gaze kept returning to the perfect ass in front of him. The firm cheeks with a soft, smooth curve. Just the right amount, not too big for her body and not too small. “Spread your cheeks, slave,” he ordered her, “let me see your anus.”
Blushing, Elaine reached back and pulled her cheeks apart so Hunter could see her tight little back door. She had no illusions, he would take her there. It was just a matter or time.
Hunter was mesmerized by the little brown hole. Roy had insisted he try her ass. Hunter agreed it looked magnificent and he would plunder it deeply. Roy said he took her anal virginity only a few weeks ago; Hunter thought it was a shame to have left an ass this wonderful unused for so long.
Elaine jumped when Hunter touched her. He reached his hand between her thighs and began stroking them, gently brushing against her lower lips with each stroke. She held on to her cheeks; he had not told her to let go. She could feel the strength in his hands even with the soft strokes. He stroked her thighs a few more times then slid a finger into her slit. She was wet, ready to be used and fucked hard. He pushed the one finger all the way into her, exploring her channel, feeling the hot wetness. Then, apparently satisfied, he withdrew.
”You may let go,” Hunter told her and Elaine dropped her hands back to her side, still facing away from him. She heard him stand and start to undress. He carefully folded and placed each piece of clothing on the table, and she heard a lot of heavy objects thud onto the wooden table.
Hunter grabbed Elaine by the upper arm, his firm grip squeezing her and slowly pulled her into the living room. He looked around the room for a moment then with his other hand on her collar, pulled her to the sofa. He pushed her head down onto the seat, but kept a tight grip on her collar. With the other hand he arranged her back end to his liking, one foot was on the floor, her leg straight, the other leg was on the sofa, bent at the knee and her ass was up in the air. It all happened very suddenly, Elaine was trying to adjust to it when a cramp hit her in the hip. It was very painful and instinctively she tried to push up and straighten her bent leg to relieve the pressure.
Hunter smacked her ass with his free hand. The sound of it echoed off the vaulted ceiling of the living room and Elaine was so stunned by the hard impact of it that she could not even cry out. She knew there was going to be a hand print on her cheek that might linger for days; Roy had certainly never spanked her this hard before.
”Please, sir,” she begged, “I’m just trying to…” she did not finish because he spanked her a second time, this time even harder and the hand on her collar tightened its grip.
”I did not say you could talk,” Hunter barked.
Elaine began to cry. She was shocked by the spanking, but more than that the knowledge that all she was to this man was someone to fuck and if she did not do it right he would hurt her until she did. Trembling and crying she lay still, waiting for him.
Hunter stood behind her. Now that that little bit of unpleasantness was finished, he could get on with the fun. His hand prints glowed red on her pale ass; he had no worries that she would not be very compliant now. It was almost a pity, he would have to find another reason to punish her later. Now, though, she was spread and ready for him. He kept one had on her collar in case she decided to pull away again, and with the other he guided his large, hard cock to her slit. She was ready and eager, wet and hot as he pushed his way into her.
Elaine moaned in pleasure as he forced his way inside her. As he filled her he moved both hands to her hips and she felt his iron grip on her body. She tried to hold still as he began slowly stretching her and fucking her. She was thinking of his power, how he had quickly bent her to his will and left no doubt about her place. How long would he have her today? How often would he be back? Could she dare hope of having Roy and Hunter fuck her at the same time?
She moaned happily as he plundered her body. In only a few minutes she came, panting and crying as she reached her first climax in days. She was so helpless, so much a slave. As her orgasm subsided, Hunter slowed then pulled out of her.
”Lie down on your back,” he ordered her.
Elaine complied and lay down on the couch, spreading her legs and offering her already fucked pussy to him. She looked up at him. She expected to see the same scars and tattoos that Sam had. He had scars, including a few nice round ones, but no tattoos or distinguishing marks. He had a hairy chest, but no hair his shoulders or back. She thought how wonderful it would be to have her legs on those broad shoulders. He smiled at her then took a step forward and pushed his cock into her face.
Elaine opened up and took it in her mouth, tasting her juices on his rigid rod of flesh. Elaine thought he might be a little bigger than Roy’s 7 inches, but not the same size as Sam’s monstrous shaft. As he pushed into her throat Elaine thought more about the taste of pussy. Amanda’s was her favorite, it had been the first she had tasted and would always be the gold standard. She thought that her own juices tasted better than Kristy’s, though. Of course that could be because she detested the young brunette.
Elaine closed her eyes and waited for Hunter to finish. Just when she thought he was done, he pulled out of her mouth and climbed between her legs. He rammed his cock back into her pussy and began pounding away at her tender body. This sent Elaine over the edge. She grabbed on to his back and screamed out as another massive orgasm wracked her. She felt Hunter cum, too, and they both slowed to stop, panting and sweaty. With tender eyes, Elaine stared up at this man who had just violated her. He stayed inside her and stroked her cheek while he looked into her beautiful eyes.
”You’re very pretty, slave,” he said to her as he rubbed the drying tears on her face. “Don’t fight it. You can’t win and you don’t want to, either.”
Elaine was silent.
Hunter pulled out of her then put his softening cock back in her mouth to clean it off. Elaine obediently sucked the last of the cum out of his shaft and took it as he pushed all the way in to clean off the cum and pussy juices. When she was finished Hunter walked back to the table.
”Slave,” he ordered, “I have not had breakfast yet. Make me some food.”
Elaine rose from the couch and stood on wobbly legs. She slowly walked back into the kitchen, trying to regain her equilibrium after being fucked by Hunter. When she walked past the table Hunter reached out and slapped her ass again.
”Quickly, slave,” he ordered. “When I tell you to do something, do not dawdle. It appears Roy has more training in store for you.” Even as Elaine hurried towards the kitchen she noted the crispness of his speech, his clear enunciation of each syllable. She also noted the tone of command in his voice; he was used to giving commands and used to being obeyed instantly.
Cum dribbled down her thigh as Elaine put a skillet on the stove. She had no idea what he wanted, but figured bacon would be a good start. He did not strike her as the oatmeal type and probably not a vegetarian. There was not a lot that Elaine could cook well, but she was a good breakfast cook. She quickly put the bacon in the skillet and began making up an omelette. She prepped some cheese, green onions and bell peppers; Roy kept a well stocked kitchen.
As she hurriedly chopped the vegetables she thought about the man who had just fucked her. She barely knew him, he showed up at her door, they had coffee and then his cock was buried inside her wet snatch. Now she was making him breakfast before he fucked her again. Another stranger using her body for his pleasure. She turned the bacon and wiped her thigh with a paper towel. She knew she would have to clean up this mess later, after Hunter was finished with her. She stifled a sob thinking of what he must think of her, how she was just a fuck toy to him. But that was what she wanted, wasn’t it?
She finished cooking the bacon, poured the eggs into the skillet and chopped up the bacon. Two pieces of wheat bread went into the toaster. She did not dare turn around to look at Hunter. She knew he was watching her as she cooked breakfast for him wearing only a collar, his handprints on her ass, his cum dribbling out of her. The toast popped out and she quickly buttered it then cut it in half. The omelette was done and she was rather proud of herself as she slid it onto a plate without messing it up. She took a deep breath and turned around with the plate.
Hunter, also naked, smiled a self satisfied grin as Elaine placed the plate in front of him. He reached up and tugged on her nipples before she could step back.
”Nicely done, slave,” he told her. “I guess the key to getting you to perform is to slap your ass. Now, go get that bottle of olive oil and set it on the table.”
Hunter began eating as Elaine got the small bottle of oil. She did not know if she should bring the vinegar, too, but since he had just said oil she left the other bottle. She sat the oil on the table and waited for his next command.
”Juice,” he said simply and Elaine rushed to pour him a glass of orange juice, then stood watching as he ate. She realized how hungry she was, she had not had a chance to eat before Hunter showed up. Hunter ate with gusto, but did so neatly. No food spilled, no crumbs made their way onto his hairy chest. When he finished he wiped his mouth more for closure than any real need.
Elaine took his plate and glass to the sink and came back to the table. Hunter stood up, his erection clearly visible and indicating he was ready for action. He stepped behind her and began running his hands over her body, always coming back to her erect, sensitive nipples. Elaine had been sensitive about her small breasts, but Amanda (who did not share Elaine’s small bust) had spent so much time playing with and complimenting them that she had gotten over that. And there was no doubt she loved to have them touched. It did not take long for Elaine to get wet and ready for Hunter to take her again. She moaned and breathed heavily as his strong hands caressed her. She felt his cock against the cheeks of her ass and moved her hips against him, rubbing his hard rod with the soft flesh of her ass. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the moment as he softly kissed her neck.
Hunter took a step forward and pushed Elaine against the table. She offered no resistance as he bent her at the waist and soon her chest and face on flat on the table top. She stayed in that position as he took his hands off her to grab the small bottle of oil. Behind her, she heard him open it and pour some out then he put it back on the table. One hand grabbed her neck while the other hand guided his shaft to her back door.
Elaine tensed up as he pushed at her tight brown hole. The strong hand on her neck held her down as he invaded her from behind. Elaine whimpered in pain as Hunter forced himself into her ass, slowly filling her and stretching her. When he was all the way in and his hips pressed against her cheeks his other hand rubbed her back, leaving a faint sheen of oil.
Elaine was breathing raggedly. No matter how many times she had taken it in the ass, it still hurt. It was still humiliating and painful and reminded her of her place and that her pussy, neglected as it was, was still wet and ready. He began fucking her, slow, regular strokes. Elaine tried to shift up an inch to ease some of the pain, but Hunter squeezed her neck. It was only a thumb and one finger, but it hurt and she returned to how she was. He seemed to be in no hurry to finish, only slightly picking up the pace. It was not the take command fucking that Roy used on her or the brutal sadism of Sam. Hunter fucked her like a man who knew she was in his power, he fucked simply for the pleasure her ass brought him. There was no agenda of subjugation or domination, he knew he was in charge, he just wanted to wring every last bit of pleasure from her body. Only when he came did he really pound into her, and she cried out in pain as he grunted in pleasure.
Hunter leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “you have an amazing ass, slave.” He brushed her sweaty hair away from her face and kissed her ear. “We’re going to get to know each other better. You’re mine today, Elaine.”
He pulled out of her ass, leaving a string of cum.
”Clean up the dishes and make another pot of coffee, slave,” Hunter took a towel, wiped off his cock and sat back to watch Elaine.
She stood up, too fast as it turned out and fell on the ground. She thought Hunter might punish her, but instead he helped her to her feet. “Slowly, slave,” he said to her reassuringly, “don’t hurt yourself.” He smiled at her, “after all, that’s my job.”
Grateful for the kindness, Elaine flashed a timid smile and took a minute to gain her bearings. Then, slowly, she started more coffee. When it finished she poured two more cups and sat down at the table with Hunter. Elaine was happy that this morning was turning out better than the lonely day she had expected. She was becoming fascinated by Hunter wondered what he had planned for her next.
“Elaine, how would you like to go hiking with me?” Hunter asked her as they sipped their coffees. “Someplace cool, up in mountains in Utah? Roy said I could borrow you for a few days and I’d like to get out of the damn heat.”
Elaine had been cooped up in the house basically since she had gotten here. The only times she had gone out were on errands with Anna and those usually included sucking J.J.’s cock. She missed being outside in the forests and mountains, even the deserts when it cooled off a bit. She missed fresh air and exercising in the outdoors. She knew whatever they did, Hunter would be fucking her, so she might as well enjoy the scenery, too. Elaine was honest enough to admit that having Hunter there to make full use of her would help balance out the lack of lurking ravishers these past few days.
”I would like that, sir. I would really enjoy it,” Elaine let the joy of being outside show in her voice.
A quick trace of sadness crossed Hunter’s face. Going to zoos had always depressed him. Seeing the magnificent animals, especially the lions, caged just struck him to his core. He knew lions needed to range, to have lots of space and freedom to truly be lions. Cut off from that they were incomplete, forever unhappy. He had just seen that look in Elaine’s eyes. But did she want freedom or just some space to reconnect to herself and the rest of the world? She was a totally different person than she was just a few long weeks ago. What was still there? What was gone and what was new inside her? Who was she now? She knew she was a slave, but what did that really mean?
“Here,” he handed her a bag of clothes he had brought. “Get cleaned up and dressed then let’s go get you outfitted.”
Elaine wanted to tell him that she did not need gear, but then remember that here she did not even have any clothes and gratefully took the bag. Inside where some khaki shorts that showed a lot of thigh and a white, long sleeve t-shirt featuring a big print of one of the more popular southwestern artists.
They finished their coffee and Elaine ran upstairs to shower. When she returned Hunter was tying his boots and looked up at her. Hunter was struck again by her beauty and innocence, even after all he had done to her. He wanted to take her again right now, but forced himself to wait. They had a long way to go today.
”Amanda’s files on you say that you are a great hiker, I’m curious to see what you’ve got,” a slight challenge gleamed in his eyes.
Elaine rose to it. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll run away?”
“I would be disappointed if you did not,” he smiled. “Now, let’s go spend money.”
He led her out. Elaine had expected to see the black suburban, but was greeted instead by an old Ford Bronco. It was still in great shape and look well maintained, but she was surprised to see it.
”Play car,” Hunter said and offered her a hand up into the Ford. “The Suburban is the work car.”
They went to a small outfitter way out of town. An older lady and gentlemen, both of whom looked like they had spent a lot of time outside before the days of sunscreen, greeted them as they came in. They instantly recognized Mr. Hunter.
”Gladys, William,” he introduced them, “This is Elaine. Elaine needs boots, socks, clothes, pack; the works. She is in town and finds herself without all of her gear before a big weekend. She knows what she wants, please provide it. Don’t worry about price, I want the best for her.”
Elaine was briefly startled by this. She had not interacted regularly with people in a while and it took her a second to start thinking and looking. First she went for boots; lightweight and waterproof with decent ankle support and comfortable. Then a day pack, socks and pants (“Roy doesn’t want you scratched up”), a rain jacket, hat and so on. Hunter insisted on top of the line and happily paid for it all.
”You need to have all this,” Hunter told her as they left town. “You need to be out more and with all this at hand, Roy can take you, too.”
She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Hunter,” she sat down on her side of the bench. “So where are we going?”
“There’s a sky island, old volcano that punched through the plateau about 30 million years ago. that stands kind of off by itself from the rest of the mountains. It goes up to 12,000’ feet, nice pine and Aspen forest, some creeks. Lots of empty space,” Hunter answered.
”And what are we going to do up there, sir?” Elaine leaned back against the bench and stretched out her lovely legs.
Few men could hope to resist the allure of Elaine’s perfect thighs and Hunter did not even try. He drove with one hand while the other caressed the silk of her thighs. “We are going to play,” he answered with a look that said he would speak no more of it.
Elaine was not sure how long they were on the road. She had explored some of this territory when she had lived with Amanda at the Grand Canyon and recognized Zion when they stopped for lunch in a lovely grove of cottonwoods by the river. She had thought Hunter might want to use her there, but there were too many people around.
Elaine enjoyed the scenery, but she also watched Hunter. There was something strong, confident and predatory about him. He always knew where she was and what she was doing, but his attention was rarely on her, he was constantly surveying their surroundings, observing and noticing details she missed. A few times he pointed out deer or birds in the distance or some tiny, beautiful flower that Elaine did not see. She thought of how he felt inside her, how he knew she would do precisely what he wanted. Until she got back to Roy, she was Hunter’s and he could do anything he wanted to her.
Once they passed the park, Hunter turned on to dirt roads and for the next several hours they wound their way through canyons and over ridges until the began to climb in the early afternoon. Elaine had thought about sleeping, but was enjoying watching the scenery. Hunter’s hand, frequently on her thigh, also promised more for later.
The last hour they were on what could only be considered a road in the broadest sense of the word. There were (usually) two tracks for the wheels, but it curved and zigzagged, went across creeks and over rocks. At one point Hunter had to stop, get out a chain saw and clear a tree that had fallen across the road. Finally, they stopped in a beautiful meadow surrounded by firs and aspens. A small stream ran through the middle and Hunter found a flat spot to camp. Elaine looked around; the mountain rose up around them, ridges leading to a summit high above. She thought that the men who liked fucking her certainly picked scenic spots to do it.
Hunter quickly made camp. He spread a tarp on the ground, two sleeping pads on top of that and two mummy bags on top of those. There was a ring of rocks for a fire and he sent Elaine to gather some wood. They were on the west face of the mountain so they still had sunlight, but it was getting late and there was a chill in the air when Hunter started dinner. It was simple, a couple of cans of chowder and a loaf of sourdough bread. Still, Elaine was hungry and ate eagerly.
Elaine kept waiting for Hunter to use her again. She wanted to be fucked hard by this strong man, his hands on her, his cock inside her. He showed restraint, though. The sun went down and the campfire started to burn low when he spoke to her about it. “I am keeping you wound up, slave,” he said to her. “I want you nice and horny and ready when we play tomorrow. That does not mean, however, I will deny myself. Strip,” he ordered her. Elaine stood up and obeyed, first her shirt, her nipples hard and erect in the chill and her arousal. Then she slid off her shorts and socks and stood naked in front of Hunter. Hunter gazed on her, savoring her beauty. The light of the fire flickered on her body and Hunter realized that Roy was right, she was worth killing for to keep.
Elaine looked up at him expectantly as he approached her. Hunter pulled her hands behind her back and tied them. He began caressing her; rubbing his rough, strong hands on her smooth skin. She was breathing heavily as he touched her, aching to be taken by him. Hunter leaned in, kissed her softly on her slender neck and whispered in her ear “on your knees and open your mouth.”
Elaine did as she was told, kneeling on their camp bed. Hunter undressed and stood in front of her. He ran his fingers through her long hair then roughly grabbed a hand full. He slid his cock into her waiting mouth, deeper and deeper. She gagged as he pushed past her tongue and into her throat. Elaine had rarely sucked much cock before Roy, she had only had her boyfriends cum in her mouth a couple of times. Now, well, now there had been almost too many men to count ramming their hard shafts into her throat. It made her feel so helpless and abused and that made her want more.
Hunter had both hands in her hair and took her slowly. He pulled her hair just hard enough for it to hurt and to get her to move how he liked. She had such a pretty face and he loved watching his cock slide in and out of her mouth, her eyes closed and pinched in discomfort. Who would not want to abuse a woman like this?
Hunter moaned and came in her mouth. “Swallow every drop, slave,” he told her. Elaine gagged and felt his cum fill her mouth, but she kept it all in and swallowed.
Hunter patted her cheeks and left her kneeling there and went back to the truck. He returned with a collar and leash. He collared her and tied the collar to a stake in the ground, then he tied her ankles together and had her lie down in her sleeping bag.
”Good night, Elaine,” Hunter said to her as he climbed in his bag.
”Good night, sir,” Elaine said. She watched the stars for a little while, enjoying being outside again and tasting Hunter’s cum in her mouth. She wondered what he would do to her tomorrow and fell asleep.
* * *
Hunter had woken her up at dawn. She dressed, he built the fire back up and they had coffee and breakfast while he told her about the day.
”I am going to hunt you today,” he said to her as she watched him with her glorious blue eyes. She did not ask any questions yet. “You will go off into the forest, and I will find you. When I find you, well, you can guess all the things I will do to you then.”
Elaine just wanted to be fucked by him. She did not see any reason to really try to get away when all she wanted was to be caught.
As if reading her mind Hunter said, “just in case you are thinking of letting me get you so you can get the fucking I denied you last night, well, I will make you try. Here is your incentive,” he held out a riding crop and smacked Elaine on the ass with it. Elaine yelped and jumped, even through her jeans it really stung. “When I catch you, we will start out with one hundred, on your bare skin. I am giving you a two hour head start. After that, for every hour you stay free I will reduce it by ten strokes. If you manage to stay free for 12 hours, that’s the two hour head start plus ten hours, you get no lashes.”
Elaine looked up at Hunter with a challenge in her eyes. If she was going to try, she was really going to try. “What if I stay free longer?”
“You won’t,” Hunter said with absolute confidence.
”But what if I do?” Elaine insisted. Hunter gave her a cross look and Elaine thought for sure that he was going to punish her for insolence, but instead a grin crept across his face.
”Fine, little slave, if I don’t catch you within 12 hours you can give me twenty strokes for every hour after that,” he finally said.
”You’re that confident?” Elaine asked.
”I’m that good,” he shrugged and handed her her backpack. “Your two hours begins, now.” He pushed a button on his watch and waited for Elaine to leave.
Elaine strapped on the pack, took a minute to make sure her boots were tight, gave Hunter a quick kiss and loped up the meadow and into the trees. She knew she had to put some distance between Hunter and her and might as well start now.
Hunter smiled and relished the thought of what he was going to do to Elaine once he caught her, and the little surprise waiting for her up there. He would give her two hours before he went after her, but that did not mean he would not watch. The campsite was in a clearing in the valley that gave great views all around. At some point she would top out on one of the ridges and he would see her and be on his way. He was already picturing her tied and squirming while he administered her whipping. It was going to be a fun day. He was happy to see her run, he wanted to watch her move, to see her body in action before he caught and plundered her. She had a lithe grace to her, not like a lion but a deer running from a surprising noise; she was prey, not predator.
As soon as she was far enough away from camp Elaine stopped. She knew that weight was key here, the more she carried in her pack the slower she would go and the more tired she would be. A few minutes now might give her a couple of extra miles and hours before it was all said and done. Hunter had packed a heavy pack for her, she was sure that was part of his plan. He would find the pile of crap she was discarding, but traveling light meant traveling faster. She dumped the contents on the ground. There were a couple of MREs. She stripped these, taking only some of the food and leaving the heating packs and anything that wasn’t quick energy. He had a survival kit with an emergency shelter, that went. She was not going to be out after dark. One way or another, Hunter would find her before then. She kept the rain jacket, but got rid of the fleece pullover. She kept some bandaids and tape out of the first aid kit and left the rest. He had given her four liters of water, she drank one, dumped one and packed the other two. She noted wryly that he did not include a map, compass or knife. Had she been on her own and not running from someone she would have kept it all, but she happily shouldered the lighter pack and headed back up the slope.
She moved quickly, but had to change routes when she ran into a big field of dead fall trees. The trees were down, crisscrossed and Elaine quickly realized that she was either going to have to climb over them continuously or change course. She could head to her right, but that would swing her back towards camp and surrender some of the valuable time she had gained on Hunter. She backed down a little, below the downed trees, and looped to the left. She made good time and soon was able to resume going up, but now she was limited in where she could go. To her right were the downed trees, only up here they still had their branches which made them impassable, it would be like trying to crawl through barbed wire. To the left she was rapidly approaching the top of the ridge and would be visible silhouetted against the sky. Well, she didn’t have much choice. She stopped, took a long drink of water, ate a power bar then pushed on.
When Elaine reached the top of the ridge the alarm on her watch went off. Her two hour head start was over. She looked down and realized she could see their camp far below. She could barely make out the form of Hunter before he sprinted into the trees. She knew he had seen her. She tried not to panic, the trick was time. Every hour meant ten less lashes and she meant to make the most of it. The ridge was rocky, a boulder field that led to the summit. If she could get over the mountain and drop down the other side she would be harder to find. The only problem was that she was going to be very visible until she was over the top. Nothing to be done about it unless she wanted to risk doubling back and heading down, but she looked over the other side of the ridge and it was not a good idea. She could either go back through the mess of downed trees or drop down a steep, lose slope with what looked like a couple of big cliffs and cross an avalanche chute. It looked like an invitation to a broken leg. If her life had depended on it, she might give it a try. It didn’t, so she went up.
Elaine had spent enough time hiking that she knew how to get into a steady, ground eating pace. Each step up was a step in the right direction. She was in good shape and this part was sheer determination, one foot in front of the other, up and up. A few times rocks rolled under her and she stumbled. Every few minutes she had to stop to catch her breath, more often as she got higher and the ridge became steeper. Finally, she ran out of up: she was at the top. She stopped to breathe, drank some water and had a quick snack. The view was breathtaking. She could see the mountains and canyons of southern Utah and, in the distance, a line of clouds that she knew were the Rockies. She would have liked to either be able to enjoy the view or have Hunter just catch her here. But neither was possible at the moment. She checked her watch, she had left camp four hours ago. That meant she was down to 80.
She looked down the way she came and thought she saw someone moving, but couldn’t be sure. She surveyed the summit and was shocked to see a trail heading down the other side of the mountain. She realized that there probably would be one, most any mountain worth noticing had a trail on it, so why not this one? She knew she could make good time on it, she also knew Hunter would make better time. She made a plan, take the trail at least below the trees then get off it. She was tired, but thrilled by the chase and eager for more hiking. If Hunter was going to get her, she was going to make him work for his fun. She knew not to run, “don’t rush the mountain” she had been told many times and carefully stepped down. Once she got into the trees, though, her footing improved and she ran for a mile.
Elaine stopped for a break, the trail dropped to the left, heading generally away from camp. She wished she had a map so she knew where the trail went. She decided to get back on the same side of the mountain, thinking that Hunter might not expect that. Another hour had gone by, she was down to seventy. Walking carefully, trying to stay on rocks and logs where she would not leave any tracks she dropped into a drainage that led down the mountain. It was a little choked with downed trees, but she was able to work her way around those; sometimes she climbed under, sometimes over, sometimes around and once or twice she just forced herself through the branches, picking up a few scratches. At one point she pushed through some branches and one snapped back and smacked her in the ass. She thought wryly that that should count towards her total when Hunter caught her.
Elaine continued down the drainage. It began to quickly narrow and get steeper. She stopped and looked over the edge of a fifty foot dry waterfall. She was going to have to get out of it now and get on the ridge. She could be seen easier, but this drainage had played out. On the ridge she would be more visible, but she had to get out. Which side, though? She stopped, caught her breath and listened. She heard someone far above her on the left side, a distant sound of heavy crashing through the trees. That made her choice for her, it might be an elk or bear, but she did not want to chance that. Elaine took a drink of water and counted ten breaths then scrambled up the steep right side of the drainage. The footing was a little loose and she skidded some, but made it out without too much problem.
She topped out on the ridge in between a pair of big Douglas-Firs when she was knocked to the ground. Something big and strong whacked her in the middle of her pack and drove her down. She was winded from the fast climb and the sudden impact knocked all her breath from her. She lay on her stomach trying to catch her breath when someone landed on her back. He grabbed her hands and quickly tied them together. Another man darted out from under a tree and blindfolded her before she got a good look at him then hooked a collar around her neck. He held her by her hair and tied a gag in her mouth. Elaine franticly sucked air through her nose and, once the man got off her back, was able to breathe again.
Elaine knew she had been captured, but by whom? She thought now that Hunter might have been herding her this way the whole time, had he planned this then? Were they going to bring her back to Hunter? He had not said anything about other people so she really did not know.
”Alright,” one said in an English accent, “let’s get her back to camp.”
Elaine was lifted to her feet. They slid up her blindfold just enough to let her see her feet and began pulling her by the collar. The one behind her stopped to rub her ass through her pants.
”Yeah, we’re gonna have some fun with this one,” he said with a hint of a Scottish brogue.
Elaine was pushed and pulled back down the mountain. She kept tripping and stumbling, but the one behind her had a firm grip on her pack and kept her from falling down. She did manage to bang up her toes and shins, though. After a while they got on an elk path and the going got easier. The ground was soft and free of rocks and her helper from behind kept her from clothes-lining herself on any low hanging branches. But given what she thought they were going to do to her, she could not feel much gratitude.
They walked for a while, stopping twice for water breaks. Elaine wanted to ask questions, but when she was not drinking they put the gag back in her mouth. On the third water break, after Elaine had finished drinking, strong hands pressed down on her shoulders.
”C’mon, baby,” she heard the one with a brogue say, “get on your knees.”
“What, you can’t wait until camp?” the English one asked him.
Author’s Note: There was an old fairy tale about an old woman with two daughters and a couple of beautiful rose bushes. Now these two daughters grew up with no one but their mother and the creatures of the forest as their friends. They were innocent in the ways of lust and only knew of love. The words taught to them were words their mother found accepting, so I have tried to remain true to their upbringing as best I can. So while you read the story of Crimson and Ivory, please remember their youth and their innocence. It won’t be until much later that their innocence is molded into something more common and crude. ~ There are acts of incest between the sisters, if this offends please do not read. Thank-you and enjoy! RedHairedandFriendly
Many years ago a young woman gave birth to two beautiful daughters and for the first several years of their lives they all lived happily in a cottage hidden deep in the woods. Their father, her husband, was a handsome man, nearly as handsome as she was beautiful. But one day he went into the woods to hunt for food and was struck down by another hunter’s arrow. The woman was left alone and raised her daughters the best she could.
The eldest daughter, Crimson, was named for the bright tuff of red hair that had topped her head the day she was born. It had grown thick and curly as time passed and when she was eighteen it hung in curls down her back. The tendrils danced teasingly across the round cheeks of her ass.
Her sister, Ivory, was named for the beautiful white hair that she’d been born with. To some it was a drawback, but to the woman and to her family it was just another unique feature to an already unique girl. Ivory’s hair and done exactly the opposite of her sister’s. It was long, but there were no curls in the silken strands. Instead Ivory’s hair was long and straight. It flowed like silk falling through the fingers of a wealthy King.
A few months before the woman’s husband died he had planted two beautiful Rose bushes for his wife and every year since the two bushes bloomed brilliant roses. One plant bore red flowers, the other white. The girls often played near the bushes and whenever they were in bloom they picked the best flowers for their mother in hopes to keep her smiling all day long.
The sisters were very close to each other and for the most part they were one in the same. Crimson was slightly more adventurous than her sister Ivory, but she did not openly seek trouble. It just sometimes found her. And while that trouble was finding her, Ivory was often back at the cottage taking care of their mother’s needs or keeping the home clean and pleasant.
When the girls turned eighteen their mother had a small party for them. There were no guests to invite, for once her husband died, the woman had become a hermit of sorts. She rarely ventured out of the woods, choosing instead to live off the land, eating berries, nuts, and fruits that were hearty in number.
After a celebration of strawberry cake, apple cider and raspberry cookies, the two girls kissed their mother goodbye and promised to be back before dark. The mother did not ask questions of her daughters. She trusted them and she trusted the forest.
Crimson and Ivory held hands as they walked through the woods and along the paths that the animals frequented. Each step brought them closer to the meadow and the small pond in which they often swam and frolicked in.
When they reached the waters edge, the girls disrobed and ran into the water. They played and splashed, laughed and dunked each other. As time passed they slowed their play and began to talk of their lives and how lonely they felt. The conversation was not new, and in truth it had been played out many times.
“We cannot leave her,” Ivory whispered.
“I know,” Crimson said in a soft quiet voice. “But I long for something and no matter how deep I go into the woods, I cannot find it.”
“I understand. I too wish to find what my heart is so desperately craving. Do you still find yourself thinking of how mother and father formed us?” Ivory asked.
Crimson blushed. “I think of it every day. I have seen many of the beasts of the woods mate and I wonder if that is how mother and father mated.”
Ivory’s eyes grew wide. “Crimson, surely not.”
“Why ‘surely not’? We have seen many animals rutting and the girl animals do not have dangling parts like the boys and we are girls, mother says so.”
Ivory could only nod her head in agreement.
“And,” Crimson continued, “the boy animals mount the girls, they slide their dangling part into the folds of the female and the sounds they make, though strange are certainly unique to each breed. So why is it odd to think that man and woman don’t mate the same way?”
Ivory frowned and walked from the water. She lay on the grassy shore and let the sun caress her alabaster skin. Her sister soon joined her and the two girls studied the clouds as they floated by. Eventually Ivory rolled over and studied her sister’s body. “What other things are similar between us and female animals of the woods?”
“If you would but go outside with me, you would already know this.”
“I know, but it is good for one of us to remain with mother. I don’t mind — well, not too often.”
Crimson turned onto her side and she too took a moment to look upon her sister’s naked flesh. “Well, for one, the girl animals have more than one of these,” Crimson reached out and touched her sister’s right breasts. “And these points,” she trailed her fingers across Ivory’s pink nipples, “well, none of them have anything like ours,” she paused and gasped softly, “Oh my.”
“What?” her sister asked.
“Yours harden like mine, but when I touch yours, my body becomes warm. Much like when I caress my own.”
Ivory reached out and touched one of Crimson’s nipples. “Mine does as well. My womanhood feels tingly too. Does yours?”
“Mm hm,” Crimson said. “That is another thing that is different. We have a soft patch of hair that covers or womanhood, and the females of the forest, they are almost bare. I think it is to keep themselves clean for their mating.”
“Perhaps we are not nearly as clean as we have thought,” Ivory whispered. She sat up and spread her legs, peered between them and studied her womanhood through the soft curls of hair. “I believe I am clean.
“I am sure you are,” Crimson answered. She sat up and spread her sister’s legs even further apart. Her fingers brushed through the hairs, and the pads of her digits parted the smooth flesh of her sibling. “You look clean and smell beautiful, Ivory.” Crimson bent down and kissed her sister’s womanhood, then she sat up. “Yes, you are perfect.”
Ivory’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession.
“Are you okay?” Crimson asked.
“I don’t know. I feel weak. Kiss me again, down there.”
Crimson shrugged her shoulders, but did as she was told. She bent her head and looked up at Ivory, while pressing her mouth to her sister’s lips. “Well?”
“Yes, your kiss has made me weak and that tingling has returned. Do it again Crimson. It felt so amazing.”
Crimson smiled. She loved making her sister happy, so she pressed her lips to her womanhood again and watched Ivory’s lips part in pleasure. “Do me,” she said, and sat back, spreading her legs and offering her sister the patch of red curls that covered her womanhood.
Ivory whimpered at having lost the feeling of her sister’s mouth against her sensitive flesh, but she wanted Crimson to experience the same euphoric feeling that she’d just had. She bent down and placed her lips upon the same spot where her sister had kissed her. She also chose to watch Crimson’s expression. When her sister gasped Ivory found herself pleased and her body warming. “You too are clean and smell beautiful. But sister, what of taste. What do you taste like?”
Crimson’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Tell me,” she said in an excited voice.
Ivory nodded her head, and ran her tongue between the lips of her sister’s sensitive flesh. Crimson’s hips rolled forward and Ivory heard her sister whisper how wonderful it had felt, so she did it again. Her tongue lapped at each side of the warm flesh and when she pulled away she saw fluids seep from her sister. “Amazing,” she hissed, before bending back down and licking again. Her own womanhood was growing damp as she tasted her sister. She reached down and touched the slickness and brought it to her lips. Ivory tasted herself and moaned around her fingers. “Oh Crimson, you must try me,” she gasped.
“Yes, oh yes Ivory. Climb over me. Put your womanhood against my mouth and I will taste you, while you taste me.”
“Oh yes,” Ivory whispered. She moved over her sister, arranging herself so that both of them could learn the taste of the other.
The two girls slowly began to lick at the juices that were spilling from their womanhood. As they learned the tastes, each one began to experiment with different patches of flesh. Ivory found a hard button at the top of her sister’s sensitive mound and began to tease it. Crimson squealed and when Ivory asked if she was okay, she breathlessly whispered that she was and begged her softly to continue. Ivory giggled and wiggled her womanhood against her sister’s face. “Do me,” she insisted.
Crimson found the same little button and she teased it with the tip of her tongue and then she gave it a soft tug with her teeth. “Oh my,” Ivory gasped. “Wonderful, again please.”
The love the sisters shared was deep and pure and as they experienced a bliss never before felt, their bond only strengthened. “There is a dark hole here,” Ivory whispered. She placed one finger inside and brushed her nail against it.
Ivory pulled her finger out.
“No! Don’t! Put it back!” Crimson demanded.
Ivory quickly pushed her finger back in and began to rub the fleshy surface. Crimson found her sister’s hole and did the same thing. They slowly pulled their fingers out and put them back in again. More juices flowed and the girls were quick to drink them up. Their bodies began to press closer against the other sister’s mouth and the girls for several minutes forgot how to speak coherently.
Eventually Ivory gasped, “Something is happening.”
“I know. I feel it too.”
“Should we stop?” Ivory asked. The tone of her voice spoke the fear she held in her sister’s answer.
“No, let us find out what is happening.”
They continued drinking and pushing their fingers into each other. They both felt their muscles tightening and their hips were moving at a haphazard rhythm. “I am scared,” Crimson hissed.
“So am I!”
But both girls continued to search for whatever it was they were so close to finding. “Put another finger inside me!” Crimson shouted. She did to her sister what she had demanded her sister do to her. Again the girls gasped in shock and pleasure. They once more twisted their fingers and used their mouths to drink the fluids that were pouring out of the womanhood they were tasting. When Crimson screamed, a flood of clear liquid shot out and covered Ivory.
Ivory was shocked, but not disgusted. She pushed her face into her sister’s mound and drank more fluids as they rushed out. Her own pussy had also exploded and the feeling had left her speechless. A low grunt erupted from her chest and was buried against the slickness of her sister. She felt Crimson’s mouth cover the hole in which her fingers had been teasing. She wondered if her sister was as wet as she and if not she hoped that next time she would be on the bottom, so she could drink most of the fluids instead of wearing them.
Crimson held tight to her sister’s derriere as she kept her lips sealed around the dark hole that insisted on squirting the heavenly fluids from a depth that she ached to explore. When Ivory was done moving her hips and rubbing her womanhood on her face, Crimson helped her sister climb off her.
The girls lay on their backs, their bodies shivering and trembling from the sensations that had just burned through them. Neither one could speak, fearing that whatever joy they had just felt would suddenly disappear. The air around them grew cooler and soon the chill of the early evening forced them to move.
They stood up together, and dressed, then they held hands and walked back to the cottage. Once there they kissed one another on the lips and pulled back. “Is that me?” Ivory asked. Her sister nodded and they pressed their mouths together again.
“Open your mouth. I want to taste myself,” Crimson whispered. Ivory did as requested and felt her sister’s tongue slide along her teeth and across her tongue. Ivory allowed her curiosity to claim her and so she too took a sample of her sister’s mouth. The two girls let their tongues twist and dance around one another until they felt their bodies tingling again. “Oh my,” Crimson whispered.
“I know,” her sister said. They pulled apart and stared at each other in wonder. “Do we tell mother?” Ivory asked.
Crimson chewed on her lower lip. “I do not know.”
“I think we should. We have never kept secrets from her before. Why should we now?”
“You are right,” Crimson said.
The two girls headed into the cottage and found their mother preparing their evening meal. After they dined on fresh bread and vegetable soup, Crimson cleared her throat and looked at her sister. Ivory nodded her head and took a deep breath. “Mother?”
“Today Crimson and I discovered something in the forest. But we are not sure what it is.”
“What did it look like?” their mother asked.
Crimson giggled. “It didn’t look like anything.”
“Well, it did for me. It was colorful. Bright red, orange, yellow, gold and even different shades of black. I did not know there were different shades of black,” Ivory confessed.
“Black? Gold? Red? I felt heat. Intense unbelievable heat. I felt it in my toes. My fingers. My head. I have never felt so hot and I only wanted to get hotter.” Crimson waved her hand in front of her face. “It was very strange, but yet very close to heaven — that is if heaven is as lovely a place as you have described, mother.”
Their mother studied her daughters and for a moment the girls felt strange under her scrutiny. Then their mother spoke, “Did you discover these colors and discover this heat together. On each other? Or did you find this in the woods, alone? Or with someone else? A stranger?”
“With strangers?” Ivory asked. “Oh no mother. No one was at the pond with us. We found these things on our own and yes it was together. I discovered mine when Crimson pushed her fingers into my womanhood and used her tongue on this little button that we both discovered.”
“And you Crimson, you felt this heat when your sister did these things to you?”
“Yes, mother. It was beautiful. What is it? What did we find?”
Their mother smiled softly, reached over and squeezed both their hands. “You my darling innocent daughters have discovered passion. It is something that is only achieved when two people truly love each other. You and your sister love each other very much.”
“Passion.” The word fell simultaneously from both girls lips. They reached under the table and held hands. “Mother,” Crimson said, “we love you. Do you wish to feel this passion?”
The older woman laughed softly. “No dear one. This passion is for you and your sister to enjoy. I have had my passion. It was with your father. One day though you will have to give up your passion for each other and seek out a different passion. And that passion will be for a man.”
“A different passion?” Ivory asked.
“Yes,” their mother said. “Passion with a man is very different. He is able to reach deep inside you and you will feel complete when he claims you. But only if it is true love. You must be sure before you allow him the same liberties you give your sister.”
“How will we know?” Crimson asked.
“You will know in your heart. If the man only stirs your womanhood, then he is not the perfect mate for you. He must stir your mind, make you laugh, make your whole body experience passion without even one touch of his lips or manhood against your womanhood.”
“His manhood? Do you mean his dangling parts? Like the animals of the woods?” Crimson’s questions made her mother grin.
“Yes, his dangling parts. Oh forgive me daughters for keeping you so pure and innocent. You are eighteen and too old to be so ignorant of life. A man’s ‘dangling parts’ is called his manhood and his velvet sack. He enjoys having these touched and licked, much like how you enjoyed tasting each other. When you find the right mate, his manhood will press deep into your womanhood and you will bring forth his seed. With that seed you will make a child.”
Ivory’s brow furrowed in confusion as did Crimson’s. Their mother sighed. “I know it is hard to understand, but when it happens it will make sense.” She could tell by the looks on their faces that they doubted her. “You will see children. You will see.”
The girls watched their mother rise from her chair. They accepted her kisses on their brows and they cleaned away the dishes while she took to her bed. When they were done they both went outside, once more they held hands and once more they walked out into the woods to welcome the night sky and gaze up at the stars.
They came to a clearing and sat down. Their bodies were pressed close together and their fingers entwined. “Sister,” Ivory said, “would you press your lips upon mine again?”
Crimson smiled, nodded her head yes, and touched her lips to her sisters. They both opened their mouths and let their tongues touch. Once more they used the muscles to taste and dance. Crimson whimpered into her sister’s mouth and Ivory groaned.
Ivory reached out and stroked her sister’s hair, while Crimson moved her hand to close around Ivory’s breast. Their kiss deepened.
“Sister, do we dare taste passion again?” Ivory asked.
“I do not see why not. Mother said it was okay.”
The two girls disrobed and resumed the position that they had tried out earlier, however Ivory insisted that she be on the bottom. After they both experienced the colors and heat that they had described to their mother, they curled up against each other and fell asleep.
In the morning, the girls woke up and found a man sitting across from them. They stared at him and took note of his shining white clothes and golden-hued hair. He said nothing, only smiled, nodded his head, rose to his feet and walked away. Both girls’ jaws were slack as he disappeared into the woods. They scrambled to their feet, pulled on their clothes and then froze. Before them, where the man had been sitting, was a precipice. Had either girl moved too far in the night, they would have been fallen to their deaths. They hugged each other and hurried back to their home.
Back at the cottage they arrived to see their mother putting out their morning meal. The girls hurried to tell her what they had seen, but she hushed them and told them to eat first. Both Ivory and Crimson rolled their eyes, huffed and sat down, but they ate, slowing their intake when their mother scolded them. After breakfast the old woman asked them to share their story.
Both spoke at the same time, again bringing a chastisement from their mother. Crimson sighed and Ivory licked her lips. “We spent the night out in the woods,” Ivory said. “And when we awoke there was a man dressed in white with bright gold hair. We have never seen a man such as he. He did not look like the men in the village from when we were babes.”
“But what truly frightened us was the cliff!” Crimson said. “After he left, we realized we had fallen asleep near a cliff drop and had we moved we could have been killed!”
Their mother’s eyes grew wide with fright. “You must be more careful!” she cried. “He must have been sent from the heavens. A guardian angel for my foolish babes.”
The girls could not argue with their mother, since they had no experience with angels nor did they have much experience with men. They did their chores and tended to their mother’s needs.
As time moved forward, Crimson and Ivory spent many days and nights exploring the passion that their mother had told them they had discovered. Neither girl had seen the white dressed angle, though they had both been searching him out. Eventually they resigned themselves to never seeing him again.
When winter came, their mother had stoked the fire so that the whole cottage was warm and inviting. The wind beat at the windows and shook the door. She asked Ivory to get up and secure the door by bolting it. Just as young Ivory was placing the bolt over the door, a great wind shook the house and the door was thrown open.
Ivory gasped, jumping back from shock, but also fear. Standing at the threshold was a beast the size of a bear. Crimson grabbed her mother and shoved her behind her, while reaching for something to protect themselves. Ivory scurried back, then stopped when the beast spoke.
“Please, don’t be afraid. I am just looking for shelter.”
Ivory turned and Crimson stared suspiciously at the creature. Her mother came out from the protective barrier her daughter had tried to create. “Come in from the storm, child,” the old woman said. “Take off your coat and boots. Sit by the fire and warm yourself.”
Both the girls stared at their mother as if she’d sprouted a second head.
The creature stepped in and did as their mother had told it to do. Once the coat was gone and the boots removed, the beast stood up and thanked the old woman. Without the bulky clothing and the heavy boots, the girls were able to see that the beast was not a wild animal, but was indeed a man.
Crimson stared at the man, curious if he was the same angel they had seen earlier that year. When he removed his hat, her shoulders fell in disappointment. His hair was thick and brown, where the angel, as their mother called him, had thick golden locks that shone as bright as the sun.
Ivory chewed nervously on her lower lip as the man sat down in front of the fire and began to warm his chilled fingers and toes. She glanced at her sister who had not moved from the place she’d sought refuge. So Ivory went to her side. “Who is he?” she asked. Her sister only shrugged.
“Ivory, go and get our guest something warm to eat and Crimson pour him some hot tea,” their mother was saying as the two girls stood quietly off to the side.
The girls again hurried to do their mother’s bidding, while their mother took a seat at her rocker. “Are you lost, child?” the old woman asked.
The man smiled up at her and chuckled. “I am far from a child, old woman,” he said.
“But you are much younger than I, so that makes you a child. Now, what has forced you to seek shelter from the storm in our meager dwelling?”
“I was traveling with a group and I became separated when taking care of my personal needs. The storm swept over us and I lost my way back to the others. I stumbled for a long time in the woods, but then I saw a bright light coming from this part of the forest, so I hurried toward it.”
“And your name?” Ivory asked after handing the man a large bowl of thick stew.
“My name is Grant,” he said, before thanking her and accepting the food. Their fingers touched and Ivory stepped back, causing the soup to slosh against the man’s fingers.
“I am so sorry,” she said as she grabbed the edge of her apron and tried to wipe away the spilled juices that lay upon his hands.
“It’s quite alright. There is no harm done.”
Ivory smiled, lowered her gaze and stepped back as her sister came forth and offered the man some tea. When Crimson went back to claim the chair she’d been sitting in prior to the man’s arrival, Ivory took a seat closer to her mother, which was also closer to the man.
Grant ate his meal and made little conversation with the woman and her daughters. He had come across the cottage and had thanked the gods for his good fortune, and when he had seen the beauty within the log home he had thanked the gods again. The old woman was sweet and kind. Her daughters were stunning and seemed innocent and pure.
He could not help but notice the girl with the long white hair seemed to hover on his every movement and for a moment he thought perhaps it was because she feared what he would do to them. It came as a surprise to realize that her expression was one more of curiosity than fear. The other daughter, the redheaded one, seemed indifferent to his presence and had in fact gone back to her embroidery once she’d delivered the tea.
When he finished his meal, he began to rise and was stopped by the daughter with the white hair. “Let me,” she said, taking the bowl and mug. He thanked her and watched her walk away, before turning his attentions to the mother. “Mistress, how long have you and your daughters lived out here?”
“I have lived here for many years, and my daughters’ — eighteen. They are twins, though Crimson likes to claim she is the eldest.”
“Because I am,” Crimson replied.
“By only two minutes,” Ivory countered.
The old woman laughed, and the man grinned.
“Are you from these parts?” the old woman asked. “You must forgive my ignorance. I only go into the village when it is absolutely necessary and the girls have only been there a handful of times. We are quite alone out here,” she looked to her daughters and sighed, “something that I believe has stifled my daughters’ growth.”
Grant cocked his head to one side. He saw the innocence in the two girls’ eyes and understood what the woman said. The sisters seemed to innocent for their years. He had come from a land where the daughters were brought up in the ways of motherhood and wifely duties. They knew how to please a man and to be ignorant of pleasure often meant you lacked the skills to make a good lover or companion. He could not believe that the girls before him would be anything but good lovers and companions. They had a beauty that reached far beyond their outward appearance.
“Sir, are you from around these parts?” the old woman was asking again.
Grant cleared his head. “My apologies. I was lost in thought. No, Mistress. I am not. I heard that my brother was missing and so I, along with several of my father’s men came here in hopes of finding him.”
“Your brother?” Ivory and Crimson both asked.
Grant could not help but notice the tone of their question. “Yes, have you seen him? He has hair the color of straw.”
Crimson sat up and gave all her attention to Grant. “Is he tall and wears white, thinner than you, with chiseled features and a wide smile that lights up the world around you?”
Ivory’s eyes widened at the description her sister gave and her mother’s lips rose in a smile. Grant’s mouth formed a smirk, but he answered her question. “I do not know. I have not seen my brother since he was a small child. There was a great war in my land and my father feared our deaths, so he separated us. I remained at home, being the eldest it was my job to remain on our lands and learn how to be a leader. My brother was sent away to a distant land, and raised by my mother’s people. We received word last year that he was missing and so as soon as I felt the peace my father had worked hard to establish before his death was secure I gathered men and left my mother and father in hopes to find Richard.”
“Richard.” The name fell softly from Crimson’s lips. “It is a fitting name for one such as he.”
“Then you have seen him?” Grant asked, spinning around and rising to take a seat next to Crimson.
Ivory watched as their guest hung on every word her sister spoke. Her brow furrowed in confusion at the feelings of fear that rolled through her belly. As Crimson explained who and what she saw, Ivory for the first time in her life found herself comparing herself to her sister. She took note of the bright color of her sister’s hair and how the sun had kissed her sister’s skin, leaving cute little pale dots — freckles her mother had called them. She had never received one freckle, something that had never concerned her until now.
“Mother, why do I not have freckles?” she suddenly asked.
Her mother turned her head and stared at Ivory. “Freckles? What brings this question up?”
“Well, Crimson has them, and my skin is far more fair than hers, so why does the sun not kiss my skin as it does hers?”
The old woman eyed her daughter with a questioning expression, before looking over at Crimson, who was in deep conversation with their guest. She sighed and shook her head, then gave her attention back to Ivory. “I cannot answer that. The sun picks and chooses who it will touch. Your skin grows pink during the summer, but something keeps the sun from burning you and leaving his touch upon your flesh. Though I am your mother, I do not know everything.”
Ivory frowned. “I wish I had freckles,” she whispered, “and bright hair.”
“Your hair is beautiful as is your skin,” her mother said.
“Your mother speaks the truth,” a husky male voice said.
Ivory turned toward the one that had agreed with her mother. Grant’s eyes were upon her and Ivory felt a warmth spread over her body. Her skin grew warm and her tongue darted out nervously to moisten her lips. “Thank-you,” she whispered.
Their mother cleared her throat and told the girls it was time for bed. The two daughters rose and kissed their mother goodnight, and wished the same pleasant greeting to Grant. Crimson led the way down the hall to her and her sister’s room, where as Ivory loitered behind, moving slowly as if each step took all her energy. Her gaze shifted from her mother, to the stranger and back again as she tried to find excuses to remain in the room with them. Her mother lifted a knowing brow and waved her daughter away. Ivory sighed, but quickened her step until she was tucked behind the door of the bedroom.
The two sisters disrobed and climbed into bed together. It was the same bed they had shared for years and like so many nights before they remained awake readying themselves to talk about their day. Tonight though was different. Ivory wished to talk about Grant and Crimson wished to talk about Richard.
“He is our age!” Crimson was saying while Ivory was trying to think of where Grant would be sleeping.
“He’ll probably sleep on the rug in front of the fire,” Ivory whispered.
“He is not a King, but a Prince and from what his brother knows he has not yet wed. Was I too forward to ask such a question?” Crimson whispered.
“I hope he’s warm enough. Perhaps I should check on him. No mother would be angry. Oh, but I do not want him cold and perhaps he will roll over and get to close to the fire and burn!” Ivory sat up and threw back her covers.
“Where are you going?” Crimson asked, suddenly aware that her sister had not been listening to her, but just as quickly she realized she’d not been listening to Ivory either.
“I am going to check on Grant. I fear he may roll over in the night and catch fire.”
“It makes sense to check on him. His brother protected us from the cliff, you should protect him from the fire. Go and watch over him. Mother will be fast asleep in her room and even if she were not she would not want harm to come to our guest.”
“Are you sure, Crimson. If I go then I cannot find passion with you tonight.”
Crimson smiled. “It is okay. I will seek passion alone this night. I believe I will imagine Richard and his manhood, though I am not sure what one looks like on a man.”
Ivory kissed her sister goodnight, grabbed a wrap and slipped it on. She tied it around the waist and left their room. She tip-toed past her mother’s room, down the hall and into the room where the fire blazed. There on the floor was Grant. Her mother had provided him with pillows and blankets. The former he had comfortably stacked under his head, while the latter he had flung off his body. The heat of the burning logs had made him plenty warm, as did his proximity to the flames. Ivory stared quietly at the figure and noticed that his body moved while he slept. “He must be dreaming,” she whispered to herself.
He had one hand resting behind his head, while the other moved up and down against his groin. He grunted and growled as he slept and Ivory wondered if his dream was more of a nightmare. She slowly moved closer, hoping to determine by the expression on his face if he needed woken from a demon possessed sleep.
When she was a few feet away, his hand seemed to move faster and faster against his groin. Her brow furrowed in confusion as the glow from the fire caste light on flesh that was hidden in his fist. A thick portion of skin would pop out of his grip and then disappear as he pumped his hand up and down. The sounds from his throat began to grow deeper and his breath came faster. Ivory’s lips were assaulted by her teeth as she fretted over what to do for Grant. The noises he made seemed inhuman and his face was tightening and he looked pained.
“I can’t let him suffer,” she said and then reached out and grabbed his pumping fist and placed her other hand on his chest. “Grant! Grant! Wake up, you are having a bad dream!”
Grant had been lost in his imagination and for a second the warm soft hand on his cock had become part of his fantasy. It was not until the pressure on his chest and the frightened words from a young girl interrupted his dreams that he opened his eyes and realized who had interrupted his self-pleasuring.
He stared up into the worried and fearful expression of Ivory. Her hand was wrapped around his fist, which was still wrapped around his hard shaft. The urge to move his hand and let her replace it was great, but he was very much aware of her purity. Her mother and he had spoken and he had given his word that he would not deflower either daughter. But he had also promised to seek young Ivory out when he returned with his brother. The old woman had given him permission and had left him to his own devices.
He had imagined the beautiful white haired goddess covering his cock with her lips and sucking hungrily upon his sensitive balls. He had seen her riding on top of his sex and her breasts bounced, while her nipples arched and begged for his lips. Now there she was staring down at him and her fingers were resting just at the edge of his cock head.
“Are you okay?” Ivory whispered.
Grant groaned and cleared his throat. “I am fine, Ivory. You can let go of my hand and I will put my cock away.”
Ivory looked down and studied the pink flesh that poked out of his fist. Her fingers were near it and for a moment she wondered what it felt like. “What is a cock?” she asked, before reluctantly pulling her hand away.
Grant eyed her suspiciously then he recalled what her mother had said, “We are quite alone out here…something that I believe has stifled my daughters’ growth”. His cock was hard and heavy in his hand. He sat up and showed it to Ivory. “This is a cock,” he whispered. “It is what all men have.”
Ivory’s eyes widened. “It is your manhood! Your dangling part. But what of your velvet sack. Mother said men have a manhood and a velvet sack.”
Grant groaned and his cock jerked.
“It jumped!” Ivory whispered excitedly. She reached out to touch it and Grant pushed her hand away. She looked hurt, but allowed her hand to fall to her lap. “I’m sorry.”
Instantly Grant regretted his actions, for they had made her sad. “No, Ivory, don’t be sorry. I am sorry. Your mother warned me that you are innocent and that my wooing of you would take time. You may touch it if you wish.”
Ivory bit on her lower lip, while reaching out to brush her fingers against the top of his manhood. All the while Grant told himself that he would not deflower the virgin and that her innocence would only be mildly altered by their conversation and her exploration of his sex.
“And you call it a cock? Not a manhood?” Ivory was saying as her fingers brushed down the full length of his rod.
Grant closed his eyes and then took another calming breath before opening them. “Yes, though it has many names. Cock is just one of them, as is manhood.”
“It jumps again,” she giggled. “Why does it do that? And what other names?”
“It does that because it is excited. It enjoys your presence and your touch.” He cleared his throat again, an action he felt was going to become a habit before Ivory returned to her bed. “As far as names, there is rod, dick, member, tool, penis, snake, impaler, intruder — oh Miss Ivory, the list goes on and on.”
“And the velvet sack? I do not see yours. Do you not have one?”
Grant chuckled. “Mine is still tucked within my britches. I only eased out my manhood,” he said, opting to use a term she was more familiar with.
“And may I see that?”
He licked his lips, reached into his pants and pulled out his testicles. When she timidly touched the skin, he moaned softly.
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
“No Ivory, again it is only pleasure I am feeling.”
“Good, for I would hate to hurt you Grant.” She cupped the velvet sack and found two small spheres. When she squeezed them Grant hissed.
“Not too hard. They are very sensitive and frighten easily.”
“Oh, I am sorry.” She quickly bent down and kissed the flesh she’d squeezed.
Grant grabbed her hair and pulled her back. “Ivory! Why did you do that?”
She grabbed his wrist and winced from the pressure on her scalp. Instantly Grant realized what he had done and released her. He tucked his balls and cock back into his pants, before looking back at Ivory. Tears shone in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and began to rise. Grant grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.
“Oh Ivory, it is I that again must apologize. I have never met one so innocent and pure as you. You are like a child, but your body is all woman. But my sweet lady, why did you kiss my balls?”
“Your balls? Oh, your velvet sack. Another odd name, I assume.”
“Yes, again there are too many to name. Please answer my question.”
Ivory turned her head to one side. “It was simple. I caused you pain and so I kissed it away. I only hoped to make you feel better. I am sorry if I failed.”
“You did not fail. You made me feel wonderful.”
Ivory felt her cheeks warm. “That makes me very happy. Would you like to take it out again?” she asked.
Grant heard the hope in her voice, but he knew that if he gave in to what they both wanted it would be very hard to keep his promise to her mother. “I believe I should keep it locked away for now. But as I said before, I wish to woo you and your mother has given me permission. So perhaps if you find me pleasing, you will see it again.”
“I am not sure what this wooing is, but I am glad mother approves, for I do wish to see it again and kiss it as well. Mother did tell Crimson and I that men like to have their manhood and velvet sack licked and touched. If that is true, I would hope to do that for you.”
Grant’s cock jumped inside his trousers. “Yes, it is true. Men do like that and I hope you do that for me to.” He took a deep breath. “You need to return to bed Ivory.”
“Alright,” she stood up and then stopped. “Grant, might I kiss you goodnight. I have recently discovered a way to find a sliver of passion when kissing and I would like to share that with you.”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “You may kiss me, but who did you discover this passion with?”
“With Crimson,” she explained.
Grant nodded his head. “I see,” he said. He waited for what he assumed would be a soft peck on the cheek, or on the lips. What he was given was not only pressure on his mouth from Ivory, but her tongue sliding along the closed seam of his lips. He obligingly parted his lips and felt her tongue slide along side his. This was not what he expected, but he allowed Ivory to tease his tongue with hers and soon his hands were buried in her hair and he was deepening the kiss. He heard her moan and whimper against his onslaught and when he pulled away she was left breathless as was he. “Do you kiss Crimson like that?” he asked with a thick husky tone to his voice.
Ivory blinked several times as she tried to clear the various colors that danced across her eyes. “I have, but I have never felt that type of passion. You have made my womanhood soaked and I fear Crimson will drown if I ask her to cleanse me.”
“Good God,” Grant hissed. “Your mother…,” he shook his head and waved off the questioning look that Ivory had on her face. “Go to bed Ivory and if you need your sister to help you with the passion you feel, then by all means seek her out. You and your sister are rare gems and I pray I find my brother soon.”
“I do to,” Ivory whispered before rising and making her way back to her sister’s side. Once behind the door, she reached between her legs and gathered the moisture that had dripped from her womanhood. She licked it off her fingers, then pushed the slim digits back in again. Ivory remained pressed against her bedroom door and found passion without her sister’s help and when the colors were exploding behind her clenched lids, she whispered Grant’s name.
The following morning the girls woke up and hurried to greet the day. Ivory rushed out, hoping to see Grant, but soon discovered that he was gone. Her mother was there, preparing their morning meal and she explained that the man had left early, hoping to find his brother. “He promised to return as quickly as he could,” the old woman said after seeing the crestfallen look on Ivory’s face.
Ivory wiped at a stray tear and squared her shoulders. “I hope he finds Richard safe and secure.”
“So do I,” Crimson whispered, before taking her place at the table.
The three of them dined on rice cakes, syrup, and warm milk. As they ate Ivory thought back over the night’s events. She took a drink of her milk and then addressed a series of questions to her mother. “What does wooing mean? What other names can we call our womanhood? Why does squeezing hurt a man’s velvet sack? And why does kissing it please him? What are the other names of a velvet sack and,” she paused and stared up at the ceiling, “did I ask about wooing?”
Ivory’s mother sat wearing a stunned expression on her face as did Crimson. It took Ivory a moment to realize the silence in the air was due to the fact that her mother was not speaking, but had in fact seemed to have lost all thought and reasoning. “Mother, are you alright?” Ivory asked.
The old woman cleared her throat. “He promised me to leave you untouched,” she whispered.
“He but only kissed me mother. It was I that touched him. He said he would be back to woo me. What does that mean?” Ivory asked again.
Her mother sighed. “Tell me what happened after I went to bed. I was sure you were sleeping when I left Grant alone.”
Crimson said nothing, but her curiosity was easy to read. She too waited to hear her sister’s tale.
“I told Crimson I was worried that he would roll over in the night and catch fire. Much like we would have rolled off the cliff had it not been for that angelic man — who we all believe to be Richard — protecting us. So I left our rooms to check on him. When I saw him, he was in a deep dream. His hand was squeezing his manhood and the sounds he made seemed painful. His face looked full of anguish. I did not want him to suffer so I woke him up.”
Their mother shook her head. “He was self-pleasuring. It is called masturbation. I would have thought that you and your sister had done this already. It is where your stroke your womanhood until you feel the passion you discovered with each other.”
“Ah,” both girls said. “We have done that,” Crimson admitted. She then whispered the word “masturbation” more to herself than anyone in particular.
“Yes,” her mother answered. “I am sure you have. So you caught Grant masturbating and then what happened?”
“Well, I didn’t know that was what he was doing. But he saw my curiosity and he allowed me touch his cock.”
“His cock?” Crimson asked. “What is a cock?”
Ivory grinned over the knowledge that she knew something her sister didn’t know. “It is another name for his manhood! It has other names too. Dick. Rod. Impaler. Snake. Tool… .”
“Enough,” their mother said, cutting off Ivory’s new found dictionary of words. “Continue your story.”
“I asked about his velvet sack, because I did not see one on him. He said it was still in his trousers, so he pulled it out and showed it to me. I touched it, but he winced. I did not know I caused him pain. When I realized it, I quickly kissed it and hoped to make him feel better.”
Their mother groaned and Crimson asked, “Did you? Did your kiss make him feel better?”
“Yes, it did,” Ivory said with a hint of pride in her voice. “But then he put it and his snake away.”
“Well that was kind of him,” their mother muttered under her breath.
“I asked him to take it out again, but he said it was best if he didn’t. Then he mentioned this wooing thing.”
“What is wooing?” Crimson asked.
Ivory looked to her mother and their mother took a long drink from her milk. “For the first time in years,” she said, more to herself than her daughters, “I wish I had whiskey.” She rolled her shoulders and smiled at the girls before her. “Wooing is when a man takes interest in a woman and he gives her lots of attention and sometimes gifts. He takes her for walks and learns about her likes and dislikes. He treats her with kindness, respect, and honors her. He promises to protect her from all things evil and he asks her to become his wife and mother to his children. Grant has asked my permission to woo you and I have given it to him. I am glad he put his ‘snake’ away.”
“His wife!” Ivory’s smile was huge. “You mean like you were to father? He wishes to be a husband to me?”
“Yes, my daughter. He does. He would like to wed you and make you his wife. He told me that you are unique. You are unlike any woman or girl he has known and you would be a pearl among his people.”
Ivory spun around and stared at her sister. “Can you imagine, me as a wife!”
Crimson returned her sister’s smile, but the joy of upturned lips did not flow into her eyes. “That would be very lovely,” she said, though inside her heart was breaking. What would happen to her if her sister went to Grant’s home and Richard remained lost? What would happen to mother if Ivory left and how would Crimson survive if her sister were not there?
Crimson rose from the table and began to clean. She did not want to think of wooing and yet, if Grant returned to woo Ivory, it meant he also returned with Richard by his side. She was torn on what emotions to carry and what hope to covet. Hope for Grant’s safe return? Or hope that Richard was not found, for then her sister would never leave?
Ivory was lost in a world of new dreams and endless possibilities. She did not see the worry or pain on her sister’s face, but their mother did. While Ivory did her part in tending to the morning chores, their mother went outside and walked through the snow to speak to the rose bushes her husband had planted.
The twin plants were in a dormant state and their leaves were dry and dead. There were no blossoms to enjoy, but she still found beauty in the plant and she also found peace. It was here that she felt closer to her husband and it was here that she went to speak to him. This morning her words were heavy as were her thoughts.
“My dear sweet love. How I have failed our daughters. I have been greedy. Keeping them to myself and not sharing their beauty with the world. Now they are discovering love and joy, passion and excitement on their own and with each other. I know it is wrong, but how do I tell them no, when they have only each other to learn from. Now this man comes and he brings with him new lessons and lessons that our dear Ivory must learn. Crimson hurts. She sees her sister growing and knows that when this stranger returns her sister will follow him. I know it too, and though it pains me, it is the cycle of life, is it not?”
The wind picked up and kissed her cheeks.
“Husband, I miss you so much. I wish you were here now, to hold me and guide my hand. Your daughters are angels and you would be so proud of them and their beauty, not just their outer appearance, but their inner beauty would astound you. My love, continue to watch over us and if you know how to show young Grant where his brother is, please do so. I believe it is that man that is suited for our Crimson. If Grant returns without his brother, I will move our daughter to the village and I will help her learn of the world that I have kept her closeted from. Rest well, my sweet.”
The old woman turned away and walked around the perimeter of her cottage. She was not quite ready to return to the warmth of the fire or the safety of her home.
Inside the cottage the girls finished their chores and opted to remain indoors for the time being. They sensed their mother’s desire to be alone and also Crimson had asked her sister to return to their bedroom, so they could talk. She had questions about what Ivory had seen and done the night before and for the first time felt more ignorant than her sister.
“Did you really kiss his velvet sack?” Crimson asked as soon as they were settled on the bed.
“I did, but he called them his balls,” Ivory admitted.
“Yes, I guess even the velvet sack of a man has a different name.”
“They did not feel like balls though. I mean remember the hard polished wood that father had formed into a sphere and he called them balls. These were not hard like balls, nor did they feel hard like wood.”
Crimson angled her head. “What did they feel like?”
“I did not get to touch them for long. Remember I said I hurt him. I squeezed them and he pulled my head back. Actually, no wait. He pulled my head back after I kissed his balls.”
“Pulled your hair!”
“Yes, he asked why I kissed them and I explained because I thought I had hurt them.”
Crimson nodded her head. “Yes, I remember you mentioning that to mother. So he pulled your hair after you kissed his velvet sack.”
“His balls. That’s what he called it remember.”
“Oh yes. So did he say why he pulled you hair. It doesn’t sound very friendly of him.”
Ivory laughed. “He did not say. He did say I made him feel wonderful though. Perhaps my kiss surprised him and he acted without thought. He did not mean to hurt me. He apologized.”
“Well, that is good then.”
Ivory lowered her gaze and teased a loose thread on their blanket.
“What is it?” Crimson asked.
“You will find me foolish.”
“No, I won’t. Tell me.”
“When he pulled my hair, my womanhood tingled.”
Crimson eyed her questionably. “You mean like when I touch you there, or kiss you?”
“Yes, but it was different too. It tingled deeper inside me,” Ivory admitted.
“There is so much to learn,” Crimson whispered. “I realized mother did not answer all your questions.”
Ivory thought a moment then sighed. “You are correct. I forgot. I was very much caught up in sharing my news with you and then she left.”
“Perhaps it is better to find the answers to your questions yourself, when he comes back.”
“You are right, though I am very curious what he calls our womanhood. Now that I have heard some of the words he uses to describe his manhood,” Ivory suddenly stopped and changed the conversation, “oh sister, I kissed him goodnight. It was with my tongue in his mouth, the same as with you, but different. It left my womanhood soaked and I came into the bedroom and I,” she chewed on her lip, looking for the word their mother had used, “masturbated!”
Crimson blushed. “I did that too, after you left. I did not know that was its name, but I thought of the man with the golden hair — Richard and I found my womanhood wet and hot. I whispered his name when my passion was great.”
“As I did, but I called out Grant’s.”
“Perhaps sister, your Grant will return with his brother and Richard will find me pleasing enough to woo.”
Ivory smiled. “Oh that would be wonderful. Then we would both be wives and we could live with them.” She lowered her head again. “I admit sister I have worried about leaving you and mother behind, if Grant makes me his wife.”
“I feared it too.”
“But if Richard finds you pleasing and woos you, then you can live with Grant and I. Mother will come too, won’t she? She won’t want to stay here in the woods alone? Will she?” Ivory’s voice broke with emotion.
“We will make her come,” Crimson said haughtily.
“Make me come where?”
The girls turned and saw their mother. They had been to deep in conversation to hear the door opening or her stepping over the threshold. “If the men return and take us as wives would you not come with us to live?”
“Of course I would,” their mother said. “But we must not think to far into the future. Come there is work to be done and you girls must tend to your chores. Do not think that now that you have men to dream about that you can become lazy.”
“Of course not mother,” Crimson said, and Ivory nodded her head in agreement. The sisters climbed off the bed, hugged their mother and hurried to tend to their chores, so that they could spend the rest of their day imagining life within the arms of a man.
Winter was harsh and Spring cold and wet. When Summer arrived the girls had given up hope that Grant would return and bring with him Richard. The old woman had decided that she would take the girls to the village and as she packed a mid-day meal for them to enjoy, she heard the sound of what to her was a thousand horses tearing up her yard. She walked out of the cottage and was greeted to five dozen men dismounting from mares and stallions that looked fit for a king.
Grant walked forth, took her hand and bent down, leaving a kiss on her wrinkled hand. “Mistress, I have returned as promised.”
“I see.” She looked around him and took note again of the men and horses that followed him. “And did you find your brother?”
Grant smiled. He stepped back and waved a gloved hand toward a group of men. The men parted and a taller man stepped out from the center of them. He wore white clothing and had a thick mop of gold hair upon his head. He was slimmer than Grant, but no less attractive. “My brother Richard.”
“You are the angel that watched over my daughters?” the old woman asked.
Richard nodded his head. “I came upon them during one of my attempts at escape. I had been kidnapped and that particular night I was close to freedom when I came upon your daughters. I noticed them sleeping and did not wish to disturb them. But I also saw the precipice and knew I could not leave them unprotected. So I sat and watched over them. Had they rolled too far, I would have woken them, but when morning came and they opened their eyes, I knew they were safe. I ran away, hoping to divert anyone that had been following me far from where your daughters had been. I was captured two days later and taken back to my prison.”
“And the one who stole you away? Where is he now? Are my daughters and I safe or have you brought your enemy here?” the mother asked.
“He is vanquished,” Grant said in a tone that ended the conversation.
“You and your daughters are safe,” Richard said before turning to look around. “Where are they, if I may be so bold as to ask?”
“They are gathering berries for our mid-day meal. We were going to go to the village. I was going to introduce them to others.” She saw the look on Grant’s face and quickly added, “I did not know your fate. Your visit showed me that my daughters can no longer live in ignorance.”
Grant lowered his head and then looked up at the old woman. “I did not deflower her,” he said, in a hushed whisper.
“I know, but what you did do was enough to make her curious and her sister more so.”
“What did you do?” Richard asked. He put his hand on the sword at his hip.
“Rest easy brother,” Grant said. “I did not hurt the girl. Besides it is not the redhead I wish to woo. I wish to seek the one named Ivory as my wife.” He saw Richard relax. “I knew it! I knew from your tone of voice it was the redhead you had watched so intensely that night!”
Richard said nothing. He chose instead to look at the girls’ mother. “Mistress, my brother speaks true. I did look over both of your daughter’s, but it was the one you call Crimson who charmed me while she slept. If you would but stay off your journey to the village and allow my brother and I to speak to your daughters, perhaps spend time with them so that they give us permission to woo them, it would be most appreciative.”
“Well, must you do so with all these men and horses?” she asked.
“Not at all,” Grant answered. “They will depart within the hour. The village you spoke of, it is close?”
“On horseback, not far at all. Send your men East and they will find the path in which is most traveled. It will take them to the village. There they will find food and bedding as well as other supplies.”
Grant thanked her for her help and quickly called his men to his side. True to his word, within the hour they were gone, but the hooves had caused great damage to the woman’s yard. Richard and Grant apologized, and the woman sighed. “It is of no great harm. I have a feeling, this yard will soon be forgotten and no longer mine to deal with. Come inside, both of you and eat some cake before the girls get back. They are running behind schedule, which means they are likely wallowing in sorrow over your absence.”
The two brothers followed the old woman in and once inside they enjoyed her company and her sweet desserts.
Another hour passed before the door was flung open and the girls burst in. “Mother! Mother are you okay! Great beasts have trampled the… .” Crimson’s words stopped as she stared into the eyes of the golden angel from the year before. Her lower lip trembled and her knees felt weak. Ivory came up behind her, and fear for her mother melted when she rested her eyes upon Grant.
The two men stood up and bowed to the girls. Grant walked around his brother and took both of Ivory’s hands. He brought them to his lips and kissed her fingers. “Good day Ivory,” he whispered.
She blushed and whispered, “Good day.”
Richard had not spoken yet nor had Crimson resumed her speech. They looked upon each other and the trance they were in was broken only when the old woman stepped between them. “Crimson, you and your sister change your clothes. You’re both covered in berry juice. Your men will be here when you return.”
Crimson nodded her head and felt herself being pulled along by her sister. Once inside their rooms, the two girls squealed with delight. It did not take them long to change clothes, but it did take them long to brush out their hair. Crimson’s hung in curls down her back, while Ivory’s shone bright like long strands of white silk. They returned to their mother and their guests. Their stomachs were knotted and their pulses fast, but both girls looked less frazzled than when they’d left.
“Sit down daughters.”
The girls did so and openly stared and smiled at the two men. Their mother laughed. “Ladies, both men have asked permission to woo you and I have granted them the opportunity. They will be staying in a tent outside, one that Grant has provided and over the course of several days you will be allowed time with them, both supervised and unsupervised. They have both sworn to keep your maidenheads intact until your wedding nights.”
Both girls blushed. They had learned a lot from their mother during the winter and spring. They understood what maidenheads were and they even had learned words for their womanhood. It had taken a lot of coaxing but their mother finally gave them a vocabulary that she felt gave them just enough knowledge to help them feel more at ease with growing up.
“For now,” their mother was saying, “you are to take the men to the pond, show them these woods, so neither gets lost while hunting or exploring. You have them now, the last thing you want to do is lose them.”
The men chuckled and the girls blushed, but they quickly did their mother’s bidding. She waved goodbye to them and knew that come evening both her girls would be more wise in regards to passion. The trust she felt in the promise that Grant and Richard had given was strong. She knew the girls’ virginity would be safe, but she also knew they were about to be taught many other lessons. A part of her felt sorrow. Her daughters were becoming women. Another part of her felt joy because of that same reason. She closed the door and went back to her stitching. Every so often thoughts of her and her husband and their lovemaking would wash over her, leaving her feeling both peaceful and sad.
Grant held Ivory’s hand and Richard held Crimson’s. The four young people made their way through the woods, each girl pointing out some wild berry or nut that could be eaten, as well as making sure the men knew what to avoid. Once they reached the pond, the girls asked if the men would like to swim.
Richard groaned and shook his head, but Grant smiled, took Ivory’s hand and led her to the far side of the water. “My brother is a better man than I,” he whispered into Ivory’s ear. “My sweet flower. My beautiful pearl. Do I dare hope you swim naked? For that is how I wish to swim.”
“Of course,” Ivory said. She pulled off her shoes and lifted her dress, exposing her nudity to his eyes.
Grant took a deep breath and again was taken by her innocence as well as her stunning beauty. “My lovely Ivory. Your body is amazing.”
“It pleases you?”
“Very much so,” he whispered. “Remember when I told you that my cock jumped because you made it happy and excited?”
Ivory blushed. “Yes.”
“Well, you make it grow too. I have discovered that it remains flaccid unless I think of you and your lips pressing kisses upon my balls. It hardens now and jumps beneath my trousers because it is excited about your beauty.”
“May I see it?” she asked.
“Yes, my dove.”
Grant disrobed and showed his cock to Ivory. She stepped up and studied it. “Will I ever see it flaccid?”
He laughed. “I am sure you will, but with you around it won’t be that way for long. Come, let us swim. I see my brother and your sister looking at us.”
Ivory turned around. Crimson and Richard were indeed staring, and they were also still wearing their clothes. “Perhaps they do not wish to swim?” Ivory said before waving to her sister and running into the water.
Grant followed her and soon the couple were splashing one another.
Richard shook his head in amusement at his brother. “Do you want to swim?” he asked.
Crimson, normally very adventurous had become quite the opposite, taking on more of her sister’s personality. “Perhaps later, for now perhaps we can continue walking.”
He smiled, took her hand and led her away from the frolicking laughter that came from the water. “I cannot express how lovely it is to see you again,” Richard said once they were away from the pond.
“I had hoped to see you as well. That morning, though you were only there for a short time, it felt as if I had known you for a lifetime. I know that sounds foolish.”
“No, it does not. I felt the same way. I watched over you. The stars and the moon were so bright that evening and I was rewarded with the beauty of you and your sister. But it was in the morning, when the sun’s rays lay upon your skin that I saw the bewitching color of your hair and the little kisses the sun had blessed you with — my heart stopped beating for a moment. Then you opened your eyes and dear Crimson,” he took both her hands in his and stopped their walk, “that is when I was lost to you. I had to leave, I was not in a place to offer you safety, but I am now. I wish to open your eyes to a world of excitement, joy and love.”
“And passion?” she asked.
He smiled warmly, reached out and caressed her cheek. “Most assuredly passion.” He then bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. Crimson opened her mouth and let her tongue slide along side his, much like she had with her sister. She recalled the words her sister had spoken about how kissing Grant had been different than kissing her and she hoped for something different when she kissed Richard. She was instantly shocked by the difference and found herself leaning into him, as well as pulling him closer to her.
Crimson clung to the shirt he wore. Her nails dug into the fabric as a moan slipped from her lips. He pushed his fingers into her hair and held her head, while he moved his tongue back and forth, in and out. He bit gently on her lower lip and tilted her head back so her neck was exposed. He kissed the soft skin, nipped it with his teeth and lips and then trailed kisses up to her ear lobe, which he tugged and licked.
“Richard.” His name was a whisper upon the wind as she felt her breasts grow heavy. The points of her breasts, her nipples, a name her mother had shared, grew hard and itched. She rubbed her chest against his and trembled from the sensation that danced upon her flesh.
He pulled his mouth away and stared down at her. “Is there a place we can sit?” he asked. His breath was shallow and for a moment Crimson worried about his health. It was not until she realized that she too was breathing funny did she understand that he had most likely felt a spark of passion too.
“Yes,” she whispered. She led him down a path through the woods and they entered a small meadow. In the center was a tree and she took him there. Once he had cleared away sticks and stones, Richard sat down and pulled her onto his lap.
“Kiss me again,” he said.
Crimson did not hesitate as she lowered her head and covered his mouth with hers.
Back at the pond, the splashing and darting away from one another had come to an end. Grant held Ivory in his arms and the water lapped at their skin. Ivory had kissed him and he had given her free reign to explore his body with her hands. She had touched his chest, teased his nipples, and stroked his cock. She had used the words he’d shared with her, as well as a few her mother had taught her and much to Ivory’s joy, Grant had not found her new found language displeasing. In fact when she spoke of cock’s and licking, balls and sucking, he had groaned in approval.
“Does hearing me speak such words excite you?” she finally asked as she teased the tip of his manhood with her fingers.
“It does very much,” he admitted.
“Why is that?” she asked, while dipping her other hand between his legs to play with his balls. “Why does hearing me say cock and snake, or balls and nuts make your cock leap?”
“Because in my mind I see you as innocent and pure. To hear these words from your lips makes me think you are more experienced than you are, but I know you aren’t. It is a contradiction. Like having an angel from god come down and tell me how they want to fuck me — this is just not normal.”
“Yes, fuck. Did your mother not share that word with you?”
“No,” Ivory said as she pumped her hand up and down on Grant’s shaft, much like she’d seen him do at the fireplace that past winter.
Grant covered her hand with his. He showed her how fast and how hard to stroke him. Then he cleared his throat. “It is hard to have a conversation with you, when you do that, but it also helps to keep me from breaking my promise to your mother. Now, about the word fuck. Did your mother mention love making and having sex?”
Ivory stopped stroking, smiled wide and nodded her head. “Oh yes, she did. We asked many questions when she started talking about that. I believe it was a hard winter for mother.”
“I am sure it was,” Grant said. Ivory went back to stroking him and he took a deep breath. “Fucking is another name for sex. It can be slow like love-making or hard and fast, crazy and wild. It is a wonderful thing, but the result is the same as love-making. My seed spills and a child can be made.”
“Mother explained that too. Granted she had to explain that a lot and many times before Crimson and I understood. I believe that was the hardest conversation of all.”
“I am sure all the conversations were the ‘hardest…of all’.”
“Perhaps. But your cock’s seed. I will miss it, if it explodes in the water. Let us get out. I wish to see it and I must confess my pussy,” she glanced up nervously at his face, gauging his reaction to her new word, “trembles,” she said once she saw he did not mind the term she’d used.
“Then Ivory my love, let me show you my seed, while I ease your trembling.”
Grant walked with her out of the water. Her hand was entwined with his and his cock jerked angrily against his stomach as she placed her other hand on his chest. They left the water and settled on a patch of thick grass. There Grant placed a kiss upon her lips and soon Ivory was opening her mouth and prodding the warm recesses with her tongue and he did the same to hers.
As the kiss deepened their hands moved over their wet flesh. Ivory found the object of her fascination and again wrapped her fingers around his manhood. Grant’s hips moved forward, beckoning her onward. He slid his palm down her arm and then around to cup one of her breasts. Ivory moaned. Her back arched and her breast pushed against his hand. “Grant that feels wonderful,” she confessed. He grinned and promised to make her feel wonderful for the rest of her life.
She sighed and then squeaked when she felt his mouth wrap around her nipple. His tongue slid around the darker flesh, while his fingers massaged the heavy globe. A whimper slipped from her throat and her fingers tightened the hold on his shaft. As he began to suck on her breast, she felt her sex tightening and moisture seeped out. “Grant. Oh Grant. Please. My passion is rising. My,” she took a deep breath, “my pussy is trembling.”
“Yes, my love,” he whispered. “I promised I would help, didn’t I.”
“Yes,” she gasped. “And your seed. You said,” her hips bucked wildly as his fingers invaded her sex, “ohh my!”
“There will be plenty of time to see my seed later. Right now I wish to ease your trembling,” Grant said with a soft laugh at the end of his sentence.
Ivory watched in awe as he licked her breasts and when he slowly pushed her onto her back, she went, but she did so with questioning eyes. “Are you going to kiss my womanhood, much like Crimson has?”
Grant’s cock jumped. “Do you and she still find passion with one another?”
“Yes, but not as often. We each have discovered masturbation and we do so with fantasies of those that wish to woo us,” Ivory said with a soft smile and a warm blush.
“And your fantasies are of me?”
“Very much so,” she admitted.
He kissed her belly and looked up at her gaze. “And do you see me in your head, licking your pussy?”
“Mm hm,” she whispered.
“And do I call it a pussy or do I call it something else? Perhaps a word your mother taught you?” he asked, before sliding his finger between her folds.
“Oh my,” she whispered. “I hear your voice and you call it my pussy, and my cunt, though mother said that word is not always welcomed by ladies and gentlemen.”
“I like it,” Grant told her, before pushing his thumb against her clit. “And what of twat, and mound? Perhaps you would like me to call it my cock blanket?”
Ivory giggled and Grant laughed. “One day my love. One day it will be my cock’s blanket.”
Ivory hissed. “I pray for that day,” she admitted.
“As do I,” Grant said before pushing his tongue against the folds of her sex and beginning his assault on her sensitive flesh.
While Grant caused Ivory to tremble and shake, his brother was tenderly caressing Crimson’s breasts. She sat on his lap, the bodice of her gown was open and his fingers were tracing the shape of her areola of her breasts. He used his nails to slide across the small ridges that had formed when he brushed against the smooth button. When it had hardened Crimson moaned and leaned deeper into him. “Richard, your touch is burning me,” she admitted.
“You burn my soul,” he whispered. He continued to touch her with just his fingers. She felt him lift one of her breasts. He let it slide along his palm, and pushed it around with his fingers. Her nipples grew more stiff and she told him they hurt. “I will ease their suffering,” he promised, then lowered his mouth to capture one between his lips.
Crimson shuddered. She felt an intense heat cascade from the center of her breasts down to the fullness of it and out into her chest. Her fingers moved into his hair and she pulled him closer. “Richard, oh Richard. Please don’t stop,” she begged.
He opened his mouth more and sucked more of her breasts between his lips. Her hips rose and he pushed them down, keeping her on his lap. She felt him nuzzle his way over to her other tit and when he began to suckle on the small bead, she felt her sex tighten and her womanhood began to leak. “I feel it, Richard. I feel it.”
“What my love?” he asked, as he licked her nipple, then teased it with his teeth.
“That thing, that thing I feel with Ivory.”
Richard looked up and stared hungrily at her. He recalled the naked beauty that had been the two girls wrapped in each others arms that night. He had breathed in the scent of there lovemaking and he knew that the redhead that withered in his arms was speaking of the honey that was threatening to spill from her sex. “Tell me Crimson. Tell me what you feel,” he whispered before turning her so that she sat on the ground and he could sit his head on her lap.
Crimson stared down at his mouth. Her breasts hung above his face and he massaged them. Her womanhood tingled and her breath was shallow. “Your mouth. Your tongue. Your teeth. As you suckle from my breasts, my… ,” she bit her lip.
“Your what?” he asked.
She licked her lips and glanced away awkwardly. Crimson didn’t understand why she had become so shy and why she was not as wild as her sister had suddenly become. She thought of the words she had learned and had spoken to Ivory during their times together.
“Tell me my sweet,” Richard insisted, while running a finger against the underside of her right breast.
“I learned words, words that make me blush and I fear saying them will disgust you.”
Richard smiled and kissed one of her nipples. “My brother spoke of your purity. Even now as you openly allow me to suck and kiss your skin, I sense your innocence. You give freely because you do not know shame and I do not want that to change. Tell me these words, speak them when you are driven to speak them and know that I will not be disgusted.” He opened his mouth and drew in her nipple, again she moaned and hissed. He released it, “Tell me Crimson, tell me what happens when I suck on your tit?” He used a word he felt would be safe, but also less clinical than what she had been used to.
Her blush was genuine and her eyes fluttered. “When you suck on my,” she licked her lips, “tit, my,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, “pussy gets hot.” The last three words were spoken very fast, so fast that she feared he had not heard her and she would be forced to repeat them again.
“I see,” he whispered. He sucked on her other nipple. She whimpered and shifted her hips. “And do you wish for me to stop?” Richard asked with a raised brow.
“Oh no, please no,” Crimson begged.
He grinned, rolled slightly toward her, gathered both her breasts into his hands and began to suck on each nipple. At first he did so one at a time, allowing his tongue to learn the shape and size of each teardrop button. Only when she was clawing at the ground did he take both beads into his mouth and suck hard. That was her undoing. He felt a hot warm fluid under his cheek and he new his little ruby of a lady had found that passion she had spoken so highly of. He wanted to taste her juices, but he knew that she was to be his for all time and there would be another opportunity to sup from her succulent folds.
Crimson had screamed when the heat from deep within her exploded and sent waves of fire coursing through her veins. She could not believe the flames that licked at her sex, nor could she comprehend it had all come from the stimulation of her breasts by Richard. Her sister had sucked and fondled, licked and caressed, but the reaction she’d had was nothing compared to what Richard had given her. She opened her eyes and stared down at his smiling cherub face. There were no words to describe the heavenly feelings that radiated through her.
A tear slid down her cheek. “My Richard. My Richard. Kiss me, please. Oh please, please kiss me,” she cried as another tear found a trail along her cheek.
Richard sat up, gathered her into his arms and kissed her with a passion that matched her own. He tasted her beauty and found himself aching to fulfill her every desire. Their tongues could not get enough of the other and as the world turned Crimson swore that for a moment it had stopped for her.
It took both brothers all the will power that God awarded man to pull away from their hearts’ desires. Grant had made his beautiful Ivory explode against his mouth and he had shared with her a taste of her essence on his tongue. He had promised her his seed, but he told her that he was weak and if he gave it to her now, it would have to be buried within her womb. So he begged her to wait until tomorrow, when he was able to walk with her more composed and in control of his lust.
For Richard, he forced himself to not give into Crimson’s insistence that she repay him for the joy he’d given her. He told her he could wait and that it would mean more to him if she did it out of desire, not out of obligation. She tried to explain that she did desire him, and he knew she did, but he also explained what spontaneous acts meant and that it was that spontaneity he wanted to experience with her.
The four of them met just beyond the old woman’s yard. The girls took hold of the other one’s hand and they left the two men to cutting wood for the stove. A chore the sisters normally did, but the men insisted on taking over. The sisters went inside and for the first time they chose not to tell their mother of their new discoveries. They caught her eyes and a silent understanding passed between them. The old woman nodded her head, but did not press her daughter’s for details. Inwardly she knew that the girls had taken another step toward adulthood and she also knew that what they shared were details that a mother did not wish to hear about.
Crimson and Ivory went to their bedrooms to change clothes. Behind the door and sheltered away from the eyes of their mother and the passion the men stirred, the girls told of their experiences with the men they treasured.
Outside the men worked silently for several minutes. Each one lost in thought, though if they had shared those thoughts they would have learned they were very similar. Grant felt as if he had been given a prize that no man had a right to hold and he told himself that it was unfair of him to teach young Ivory so much when she was not yet his wife.
Richard felt the same way, but he also found himself wanting to see the love his intended have grow, not only for him, but for her sister as well. He would be lying to himself if he said the idea of seeing the two sisters bodies entwined like he had that night so long ago was not arousing, but how did he broach this subject with his brother and with young Crimson. He thought of the old woman and wondered if perhaps she was as wise and kind as his brother had made her out to be. What would she say if he approached her and confessed his desire?
When the evening was upon them, the group sat around the table and ate the venison that the old woman had smoked earlier during the winter. Thick helpings of mashed potatoes were loaded onto both plates of the men and even the girls ate more robustly than usual. The old woman chuckled to herself and commented softly about appetites being worked up. Crimson and Ivory both blushed, but said nothing, choosing instead to stuff bread into their mouths while the men grinned and shook their head disapprovingly toward the old woman.
After dinner the old woman asked the men to tell the girls about the land in which the men called home. Richard admitted that he had no knowledge of his brother’s lands, for he had spent his childhood and his youth with his mother’s people. Discovering the woods in which the three women lived had been both a blessing and a surprise, for he had not ever heard of their village nor of their town. The old woman promised to tell the story of her country some other night. Both men held her to her promise.
Grant took the floor, clearing his throat and holding Ivory’s hand in his. He rubbed one of her fingers with his thumb and spoke about the war that had ravished his land and the lands of his father’s enemy. “Before the war our land, the land of Bertrum, was rich with minerals, wheat, barley, oats, various grains really. We mined precious gems and we pumped oil from the heart of the earth. The soil was rich with nutrients and the game that lived within the woods was fat and plump. Our neighboring lands were our friends and beyond those lands we had little contact. We had known of other kingdoms, but to come across someone from another realm was rare and in fact we saw it as a celebration.”
The group hung on every word, especially Richard, who was for the first time really getting a chance to learn about his heritage.
Grant continued speaking as Crimson refilled their mugs of tea. “During the time when all were prosperous one of the kingdoms beyond those of our neighbors succumbed to a great plague. This plague began to destroy not only the people, but the livestock as well. Our neighbors at first tried to help the other people. They gave them food, clothing and some of their best livestock and richest foods. Unbeknownst to us, these people did not live on such a rich land as ours and when the plague moved through leaving behind much death and little else, the people and their leaders began to plan a way to take what had been offered freely by their neighbors.”
The old woman sighed and nodded her head in understanding. “Your neighbors would have helped these people rebuild their lives had they but asked, wouldn’t they?”
“Yes,” Grant answered, “but they didn’t ask. They attacked the villages and farms closest to their borders. They stole the livestock, hunted the game and made off with the seeds for the following years planting. Then they burned the fields, poisoned the soil. They created a border of death between them and our neighbors. The following year they returned, they were stronger and more powerful because of the hearty food they had stolen and the livestock they slaughtered when they felt it was time to eat fresh meat. Their crops were sparse, but they harvested enough to keep their bellies satisfied.”
“But that wasn’t enough,” the old woman whispered.
“No, it was not. They attacked again, moving deeper into our neighbors’ lands and repeated the process again.”
“How long did this go on before war was declared?” Richard asked.
Grant sighed. “Our father went to the enemy of his allies and he tried to reason with him. He told their king that the damage he was creating would eventually destroy not only his allies, but our country as well. He offered to teach the people how to properly tend the soil and care for their livestock. He said he would send surveyors out to search for oil, as well as explore their mountains for minerals and precious stones.”
“But the king was too impatient and he refused your father’s help,” the old woman whispered.
Grant eyed her suspiciously, but continued his tale. “Yes, he refused and so my father did what he had to do. He sent his armies out to the borders of our neighbors lands and he protected them, along side the soldiers of his allies. Many battles were fought and many died. For years my father worked to limit the number of deaths he’d bring down on the enemy, but it did not matter. For all the mercy that was shone the enemy remained heartless. And then my brother was attacked and almost killed.”
“It was then that your father sent him away, isn’t it?” Crimson asked as she squeezed Richard’s hand.
“Yes, father sent him back with mother. We learned later though that mother died during the trip, for the plague had returned and though it did not flow as thick through our lands, it still touched the lives of many of our people.”
“When did your father end the war?” the old woman asked.
“Six months before his death, he dealt the final blow to the king that had brought so much pain and destruction and he worked out the necessary details for peace with the lords that still held lands within the king’s realm. I left to find Richard once I knew the peace treaty would hold. I left trusted men in charge of all that I own as well as instructions on how to renew our lands and the lands of our allies.”
“You will make a great leader,” the old woman said. “And how many still live from the lands you vanquished.”
“Very few,” Grant whispered. “May I ask, Mistress. Do you know of the land I speak of?”
The girls as well as Richard looked at the woman. She said nothing as she stared at her hands that lay still on her lap.
“Mother?” Ivory said, her voice urging for her mother’s words.
“Ivory, Crimson, gentlemen. My story, I said is for another night. The hour is late and my bed calls out to me.” She rose from her chair and kissed her daughters’ goodnight. They did not beg her for answers, though their desire to know her story weighed greatly on their minds. “I trust you gentlemen,” the old woman whispered into their ears before she departed and left her daughters to their nightly adventures.
Grant watched the old woman leave and while she walked away he reached back into his memory and searched for anything that would reveal to him who she was. She had seemed to understand his tale more than he’d expected from someone so far away, or at least she understood the arrogance and pride that existed in the dead king’s soul.
“Grant, will you walk me to my room? So that I may bid you goodnight before you and your brother retire to your tent?”
Ivory’s voice pulled him from his musings. He smiled, took her hand and led her down the hallway, to her and her sister’s room. Standing at the door, he smiled down at her. “Did you truly need me to walk you to your room, or do you have more nefarious plans in store for me, my sweet Ivory?” He spun her against the door and rested both his hands on either side of her head. His gaze held hers.
“Nefarious plans? No, my love. I simply wanted a kiss goodnight and wished to give Crimson time to say goodnight to Richard.”
“Oh you are so kind,” he whispered, before leaning in and covering her lips with his. Once again they were drawn into each other. Grant, tugged her lower lip with his teeth, making her giggle, and then he trailed his fingers down her neck, while sliding his tongue back into her mouth.
Ivory shifted nervously on her feet, while enjoying Grant’s attentions. She pressed her body to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in closer.
In the living room, Crimson held Richard’s hand. “Since I am sure my sister is going to draw out her goodnight with Grant, perhaps it would be best if I walked you to your tent and wished you a restful sleep,” Crimson told him.
“If you would like,” he said, before offering her his hand. They walked outside and together they made their way to the tent that Grant and he had erected hours earlier. “Come inside,” Richard insisted. “The insects of the night are thick this evening and I do not wish them to sup upon my heart’s desire.”
Crimson blushed. She went into the tent with him and was soon wrapped up into his arms. They kissed deeply and intimately. When they pulled apart, both were left barely breathing. “This wooing is a trial,” Richard whispered against Crimson’s lips.
“Does it pain you?” she whispered back, as her hands moved to slide up to his chest. She rested her palms on his pectoral muscles. Her gaze shifted down to where her hands laid. “Yours get hard too,” she said, with a sound of surprise clearly audible in her voice.
“Yes, my nipples get hard too.”
“And do you react the same as I did?” she asked. Before he could answer she moved her hand to the ties that kept his shirt closed. She pulled them, and the strings fell away, the material parted and his skin was exposed.
He did nothing to stop her, nor did he say anything to encourage or discourage her actions. Richard watched as she lowered her head and kissed his right nipple. She moved onto the left and while there, she began to tease it with the tip of her tongue. He caught her gaze and smiled down at her. “It is pleasing,” he admitted. “It pleases me more if you bite it just a wee bit.”
Crimson licked her lips before opening her mouth and tugging gently on the hard bead. He moaned, then placed his hand on the back of her head. “Now suck,” he told her. She began to suck, mimicking the way she often teased her sister’s breast. Richard lifted her from his nipple and kissed her hard. “My god, woman,” he hissed, before kissing her again.
She rubbed his chest with her palms as he tilted her head back and sucked on her neck. “I wish to please you more,” Crimson gasped as she felt her breasts grow heavy and her nipples ache. “Richard, you stir so much in me.”
“And you, me. Miss Crimson, you must go now. I promised your mother.”
“I know,” she whispered. She hugged him tight and breathed in his scent, before turning around and heading back to the house. On the way to the door, she passed Grant and could not help but notice that he seemed to be walking strangely and his breath was haggard like Richard.
Inside the house, and tucked behind the bedroom wall, and snuggled together under the blankets, the two sisters spooned each other. Crimson played with her sister’s breasts, teasing the hard nipples. “Did you enjoy your kiss?” she asked, before placing a kiss upon the back of her sister’s head.
“I did. And did you like yours?” Ivory asked, before rolling over and facing her sibling.
“Yes. He makes me feel so much, as I am sure Grant does for you,” Crimson said, before trailing her fingers down to tease the hairs that rested about her sex. She let her fingers slide along her sister’s slit. “And it is his kisses that cause you to seep, isn’t it?”
“Mm hm,” Ivory said, “and Richard, does he make you moist?” Ivory pressed her palm against Crimson’s sex.
“Yes, he does.”
“And what of us?” Ivory asked.
“My sister, my dear sweet sister. I still feel passion for you,” Crimson whispered before sliding over her sister and covering her body with hers. Their hands remained idle for no more than a second and their mouths moved to touch, caress, and lick as much skin as they could before they were overwhelmed. When their fluids gushed they both cleansed the other until they were writhing again under the assaulting tongue of their peer.
The following morning the girls woke up, and shared another tender moment with each other. When they walked out of their bedroom, they both knew that their passion for one another would have to be something the brothers accepted.
“Your mother made us breakfast and then said she was going into the village. We asked if she wanted us to accompany her, but she begged us to remain here with you girls,” Richard said. “Does she leave for the village often?” he asked.
“No, she only goes if she feels we are in short supply of something,” Ivory commented. “She did not say anything more?”
“No. She did not seem worried, but she was insistent,” Richard answered.
Both the girls frowned, but said no more. They could, after all, do nothing about their mother’s sudden and unexpected departure. “Well, the day must go on,” Crimson said. “Normally sister and I gather fruits and nuts from the woods. Living off the land means that we forage just like the animals. We gather food, because the winters are harsh.”
“Then that is what we shall do,” Richard said. “Grant and Ivory, would you come with us, or will you hunt? I am sure there is game in these woods that your mother would like smoked.”
Grant paused. “Yes, if the girls were going to be here during the winter, but I would hope that we have convinced them by then to be our wives,” he said.
Both sisters laughed. “But in case we have not,” Ivory said. “We hunt.” She picked up a bow that rested in the corner and passed another to Grant. He admired the craftsmanship and headed into the woods with Ivory by his side. The other couple grabbed two baskets and departed in the opposite direction of the hunters.
Deep in the woods the couples went and at first both brothers tried to engage their respective interests in a different kind of foraging and hunting, but each man soon learned that the girls took their roles seriously. Grant was forced to acknowledge that the beautiful seductress with the long white hair could handle a bow as well as any man in his army. He found the knowledge arousing and swore that no woman would ever hunt with his men, because they would be a distraction that would get a man killed. He was certainly distracted. The ache in his loins was proof to that. When they returned to the cottage, he strung the meat up, and allowed the blood to drain, then he grabbed his alabaster beauty and pulled her into the tent in which he and his brother shared.
Crimson and Richard did not have to stalk there food, they only had to look for the ripe fruits and the ready to harvest nuts. She taught him what was safe to eat and when he showed her some of the berries he’d eaten during his short time away from his captors, she told him their names. When they returned to the cottage, Crimson saw Richard glance toward the tent. She blushed upon hearing the sounds that came through the canvas. “Perhaps we should go inside,” Richard insisted. Crimson agreed and they sought their own refuge behind the sturdy structure of their mother’s home.
Inside the tent Grant could not help but seek out the kisses that were so easily given by Ivory. His mouth sought out hers as if it were the very air he needed to breathe. He opened her bodice and teased her breasts with his teeth and tongue. She whimpered, purred and growled deeply as her words became garbled and confused.
Ivory felt the building of passion rising up inside her, but along with it came a stubbornness that she rarely experienced. “Wait,” she gasped, as she pushed at her love’s chest.
Grant stopped his caresses and looked questionably at her. “What is it, my sweet?”
“You have given me so much. I want to do something.”
He smiled. “You do so much already.” He moved to kiss her right breast. Again she told him to wait.
“Lay down on your back,” she demanded. “Just like that night at the fire. Place your head on the pillow and one hand behind your head, the other you may rest here,” she put his hand on the bedding.
Grant felt his cock jerk and he moaned softly. “Ivory, my darling. You do not know what you ask of me.”
“I know, but I do know it is something you enjoy doing on your own, so surely you will enjoy it with me,” she said.
He laughed softly. “Yes, my love. I would certainly enjoy it with you.”
“Then lay back!” she demanded again, in a more direct tone.
Grant chuckled, and assumed the position she wanted. “Do you wish for me to open my trousers?” he asked.
“No. I shall tend to you in all ways.”
He took a deep breath and watched as her trembling hands slid over his crotch. Her lips were parted and her tongue darted out to moisten the soft petals of flesh. “Tell me Ivory. Is your pussy wet?”
She blushed, but said nothing. “Do you know that while you stroke my cock, I can sup on your pussy. I can taste your juices.”
Her head snapped up and she stared at Grant. Her breath quickened and her fingers shook as she opened his pants. His cock jerked forward and the movement was seen out of the corner of her eyes. She turned away and stared at his manhood. She then reached down and gently eased his velvet sack from his trousers. “I did not hurt you, did I?” she asked.
“If I said yes, would you kiss it to make it feel better?”
“Of course,” she told him with nothing but sincerity in her voice.
He touched her cheek and stroked her lip with his thumb. “You did not hurt me, but you may still kiss it.”
Ivory licked her lips, bent down and kissed the soft skin of his testicles. He brushed her hair back and held it so he could see clearly her angelic face as it rested against his thigh. “I shall never tire of this sight,” he said.
Ivory looked up and ran her tongue along the base of his ball sack. He sighed and she repeated the caress. “My sweet child, you will slay me someday.”
“You tease me,” she whispered, before giving each sphere a long well placed lick. “Might I suck on them. I shall be gentle.”
“You may explore me at your leisure.”
The look of pure joy and excitement melted his heart. He watched her slide between his legs and settle herself, much like a child on Christmas morning who is staring at all the gifts, while lying on their belly. He adjusted himself so he was better able to see her and by doing so he was rewarded with the view of her lips nuzzling his sack and her long beautiful fingers tracing the swollen veins of his cock.
Ivory was in love with his cock. She gazed upon it and watched it jerk toward her. Amazement filled her eyes as she lifted it from his abdomen and stroked it with her fingers. She licked his balls, then began to lick each one of his engorged veins. When she reached the head of his shaft, she stared at it and then glanced at Grant. “What is this?” she asked, as a small bead of clear moisture leaked out of the tip of his manhood.
“That is evidence of my desire for you. It is a wee bit of juice that spills out before the eruption of my seed.”
His eyes grew wide. “Um, yes.”
“Mother explained it.”
He shook his head back and forth. “Oh the questions your mother answered. How she survived the winter is a mystery to me.”
Ivory rolled her eyes. “She is a strong woman. Winter was not so horrific that we worried about her.”
He chuckled. “I am glad, now Miss Ivory. That pre cum, it is a terrible thing to waste. Will you not lick it off?”
Her breath again became lodged in her throat. Her tongue slid from between her lips and she licked greedily at the fluid. She studied the taste and found it slightly salty. “Do you have more?” she asked.
“There will be some more, yes, but the real reward comes later. You will have to stroke my cock, and if you so desire, lick and suck on it. I can teach you how to accept my manhood and make it feel as if you were made for it.”
“What do you mean?” she asked as she licked the head of his dick again.
“I mean there is a way to fit all of it down your throat. When it is surrounded by the warmth and the tight muscles, my whole body responds. I get sparks of heat exploding from my groin and they spill into my chest.”
Ivory looked deeply into his eyes. “I want that for you,” she whispered, and then pushed his dick into her mouth.
The image of her beautiful lips wrapped around his cock was almost his undoing. Grant fought for control over his emotions and eased her gently from his shaft. “Slowly my sweet.” He then showed her how to please him and in return he knew her pussy was growing slick with juices that he would need to feed from.
Inside the cottage a similar scene was unfolding. But where Grant had waited to sample Ivory’s nectar, Richard had insisted on showing how both Crimson and he could both be pleasured. He could not help but recall the images of the girls wrapped in each others arms. As he kissed his intended he gently prodded her back to her bedroom. Once there, they both disrobed and he brought her into his arms, where he kissed her and caressed her naked flesh. She timidly touched and stroked him and when she begged him for help with the fire burning between his legs, he asked if her and her sister had ever eased one another by sucking simultaneously on the other sibling’s womanhood.
Crimson had answered yes, and when he told her that he would like to do that with her, she felt her cheeks grow bright red and her sex was washed in a flood of volcanic lava. “Oh Richard, you must teach me this!”
He grinned, marveled at her excitement and placed her on the bed. “Lay here my love. I will climb on top and like your sister I will place my mouth against your sex. My cock will fall into your face and you may use your lips, mouth, and tongue to tease it.”
“But what of sucking. I suck on my sister’s womanhood. Can I not suck on your cock?”
He smiled at the way the new word for his manhood slid from her tongue. “Yes, my love. You may suck on my cock. You may fit as much of it into your mouth as you desire. If you start to gag, pull it out, or push at my thighs. I may become lost in your touch and not realize that I am choking you.”
“And after we do this, will your juices explode into my mouth, the way Ivory’s does?”
“Yes, it will. Tell me my ruby flower, do you like your sister’s juices?” He asked the question before spreading her pussy lips opened, and moving on top of her. True to his word, his cock smacked her face. He felt her lips, her breath, and her nose. One of her hands wrapped around his shaft and she slowly stroked it.
“I love my sister’s fluids.”
“It is called cum,” he said as he kissed the top of her mound. “I will have cum for you this day,” he told her. “It will shoot from my cock and fill your mouth. Will you swallow it for me?” he asked, before dipping a finger into her tight hole. “You are so wet and hot, Crimson.”
Crimson moaned. “I will swallow your cum and if you would like you may watch me swallow my sister’s.”
Richard closed his eyes as the imagery she created with her words washed over him. He opened her lips further and pushed his tongue against her pussy’s opening. Crimson bucked and called out his name.
“Again,” she begged.
He laughed, but willingly obliged.
She lay there, slowly stroking his rod, while he licked, prodded and slurped up her juices. He whispered her name and rolled his hips. His cock bumped her mouth and the soft juice that escaped it fell across her lips. Crimson licked it off and shivered in desire for more. She opened her lips and awkwardly pushed the head of his shaft into the moist depths of her mouth. The sound that vibrated through Richard told her he was pleased, so she sucked on the spongy top, while using her hands to massage his testicles and stroke the inches that were not consumed by her tongue and cheeks.
Richard did his best to keep from thrusting his cock down her young and untried throat. He kept up his efforts on her pussy and when she accidentally bit his shaft, he eased up on his stroking of her sex and told her to relax her mouth. Once she did, he told her that she had more room now to move her tongue around the head. “I love the feel of your mouth,” he whispered, “and the taste of your pussy is like honey dripping from the best hive.”
“Your cock fills my mouth. I want to take you down my throat, but I am fearful.”
“There is no rush, my love. Just suck on the first inch or so and that will leave me satisfied.”
“You are sure?”
“I am sure. Now, there is too much talking going on and not enough feasting.” Richard drove home his proclamation by lowering his face back to her slippery open. He drank deep, while toying with the fleshy walls of her sex. As he dined upon her he felt her do as he’d instructed and soon she was once again moaning around the head of his cock.
When Crimson came Richard did not stop exploring her. He told her there was more for him and he lapped at her sensitive folds. He played with the entrance of her sex and she screamed his name when she came again. “More!” he demanded and again she exploded beneath him. As she shot her fluids, he felt his balls draw up and knew that his cum would soon fill her mouth. He lifted his head and warned her. “I am coming, my love. You must swallow quickly.”
She said nothing, but he felt his cock bob up and down so he knew she was nodding her head. He went back to feast on her pussy, and soon she was filling his mouth with juice and his semen was squirting against her tongue and cheeks. He listened to the sounds that came from her and he waited to feel her pushing him away. Instead he was shocked to feel her pulling at his hips and pushing him deeper into her mouth.
His cum filled her and she had done as she was told. She swallowed quickly and drank what he gave, in so doing his dick became less thick and she was able to push more of it into her mouth. He shuddered and felt another glob of milk squirt from his dick.
When he felt her push on his thighs, he rolled over and lay on his back. His body was spent, but his mind was alive. He felt the weight of the bed shift and soon Crimson lay next to him. He gathered her close and stared in wonder at her smiling face. “May I kiss you?” he asked.
“Oh yes, please,” she answered. He rolled over and covered her with his naked flesh. His mouth found hers and their tongues tangled. He felt his cock stiffen and the head sought out a place to hide. He groaned and lifted himself from her delectable form. “I must go for a swim,” he said.
He grinned. “Yes, and no you may not go with me.”
Crimson’s lips fell in a frown. She looked at his cock and whimpered. “It leaps for me,” she said.
“It does much for you. Rest my little one. I will fetch my brother, for I believe he will need a swim as well.”
Crimson watched him leave and just a few minutes later, her sister appeared. She had with her the dress she’d been wearing and her sex bore signs of small scratches. “What happened?” Crimson asked before touching her sister’s mound.
“He sucked on my womanhood!”
“My Richard did as well. Did you suck on his cock?” Crimson asked.
“I did. He let me suck on it first and then he had me lay down and he spread my legs. He put his hands here,” she pushed on her upper thighs, “and he opened me wider. He then put his tongue and his fingers in my hole.” Ivory sat on the bed. “Sister I thought I was going to die!”
“I sucked on the head of Richard’s cock, while he drank from my pussy!”
“You did not!”
“I did! I also told him that he could watch you and I please each other.” Crimson suddenly looked worried. “Sister, will you? Will you do that with me? He seemed very pleased with the idea.”
“Of course I will. We will let both brothers watch. They are very similar, so I am sure Grant won’t mind.”
The girls hugged each other and kissed. “Sister, is that Grant’s seed that I taste on your tongue?”
“I am sure it is,” Ivory answered, “and I assume I have tasted Richard’s?”
“Yes, you have.” The sisters giggled, and hurried to dress for supper.
By the time they had the meal ready, the brothers had returned and so had their mother. The old woman brought back with her several yards of ribbon, lace, and fabric that the girls feared touching because they were so rich in detail and design. “Mother these are exquisite,” Ivory commented.
“They are for your wedding dresses,” the old woman answered.
The sisters blushed and the men smiled. “We have not officially asked your daughters to be our wives.”
The old woman lifted a brow. Both men raised their hands in self defense. “We are going to though,” Grant promised.
“Then do so now,” their mother demanded.
“Mother!” the word left both girls’ lips at the same time.
Grant and Richard lifted their palms again. “No, your mother is right,” Richard said. He got down on one knee, as did his brother and both men took the hand of the woman they loved.
“Ivory, will you become my wife and Queen to my people. Live with me for all time and give me more children than the God gave Abraham?” Grant asked.
Ivory blushed. “Abraham had a lot of children, Sir. But I will certainly enjoy trying.” She laughed and told him she would marry him.
Richard then looked up at Crimson. “I found you in the woods and felt immediately the desire to protect you. And though I had to leave that morning, the need to find you and shelter you burned inside me. I offer you my heart, my devotion, my sword and my life, if you would be my wife, you may have all of these things and so much more.”
Crimson fell to the floor and wrapped her arms around Richard. She kissed his lips and pressed her face into the crook of his neck. “Yes,” she whispered, and kissed him again.
Their mother wept tears of happiness and hugged the two men she would soon call sons. They dined as a family that night, and the old woman felt more peaceful than she had in years. “Come let us sit by the fire. We shall have another story,” she said.
“Will it be yours mother?” Ivory asked.
“If there is time. Right now I am curious as to Richard’s tale, as I am sure his brother is too.”
Grant shook his head. “I have only heard a brief account, so yes I would like to know the details of his life.”
“Then to the fire,” the old woman said.
They moved together, each bringing with them a mug of tea and a small cake to snack on. Grant held his fiance in his lap, the old woman sat in her rocker and Crimson sat on the floor next to her beloved’s feet.
Richard caressed her thick red hair and looked into the flames that were being licked by the fire. “As you know I was sent across the lands of my father, our allies, and these woods, though I was not aware of any of this at the time. I was small and was told I was going on an adventure. Now because I was the younger of the two of us, I found this very exciting. I was going to spend time alone with my mother and my big brother was to remain behind stuck within the walls of the castle, consumed with studies and learning the ways to rule a kingdom.”
Grant huffed. “You do not know how lucky you had it,” he muttered.
“No, I do not, but remember it was not my choice to leave my home.”
“I know,” Grant answered. “Please continue and ignore my interruption. I am sorry.”
Richard nodded his head in understanding. “As we neared my mother’s lands, she became ill and I was told later that it was the plague. I was only a small boy, so her death was hard to accept, but in time, sadly I forgot her and to this day I regret the weak memories of a child.”
Crimson kissed his palm, and rubbed her cheek against his knuckles.
“I grew up in the castle of my mother’s father. My grandmother, her mother had passed away years before and so my grandfather took me under his wing and cared for me. I grew up in the ways of both my father and my mother, for my father had sent tutors from his realm with me and our mother. By the time I was into my early twenties I felt it was time for me to return to my father and my brother and take my place along side them. I had heard about the war that drove me into hiding and I wanted to add my sword to theirs.”
Richard took a long drink from his tea, needing the moisture to sooth his throat. “A few weeks prior to making the journey, my grandfather’s lands were attacked. Everyone was slaughtered and I was tortured. I do not know why I wasn’t killed, but there were many nights I wished for God to relieve me of my burdens.”
Crimson wiped at tears that fell from her caring eyes. Her mother also dabbed at her face as did Ivory. Grant stared at his brother. Pain and anguish were just two of the emotions that filled his handsome features.
“You weren’t killed because that is not his way,” the old woman answered. “The king had sent his men to find you, torture you and punish you. Everyone else was nothing to him, they meant nothing, but you, you were a Prince and that gave him power over your father.”
“You know of him, don’t you?” Grant asked.
The old woman sighed. “My husband and I, as well as several other members of his realm fled his lands several months prior to his first attacks on your neighbors. He was my father. There was a farmer whom I fell in love with and though he was not wealthy in funds, he was rich in love and devotion. I heard my father plotting to kill my love and burn his corpse with those of the people he was set on exterminating. I went and shared all I knew with my beloved and he and his family took me and several of their neighbors away. They trusted my words, for I had never lied or spoken unkind to them. They also knew the wrath my father would place on those I called friend.”
“So you ran away?” Grant asked.
“I did. We all traveled around the neighboring lands, choosing to keep close to the borders, so as not to alarm anyone. There were no guards or soldiers stationed there yet, because the threat had not yet come.”
“You crossed my father’s lands?” Richard asked.
“We did and we found friends there, but we never stayed too long in one place. Eventually we reached these woods, and we traveled through them. We built the village that is tucked between the mountains and only a few strangers have ever laid foot in it. My husband and I eventually moved out here, choosing to live quiet lives, fearing that one day someone would recognize me and report to my father.” The old woman looked at her daughters. “Your father loved you very much and he would have been proud of the women you have become.”
Ivory and Crimson ran to their mother’s arms and hugged her tight. She returned the sentiment and shed tears with them. When the small group parted, they held hands and the girls sat down at their mother’s feet. “After your father died, I told myself I had to keep you safe. So I kept you here, and only on rare occasions did I take you into the village.”
“So it is this village that you traveled to this morning?” Richard asked.
“Yes, I went to tell them of your arrival and I wanted to let them know that I would be returning to my father’s lands. I am his heir as our my daughters. I do not know what waits for us, now that you rule over all the lands of my father, but it is right for them to see their home.”
Grant sighed. “You’re father did a lot of damage and caused a lot of pain. There is not much left for you or your daughters. I hope you will live with us, while we teach your people how to repair their lives and in the end improve them.”
“I desire that greatly,” the old woman said. “I hope we can leave tomorrow. I do not have much to take with me. But I hired a team of horses and some of the villagers wish to leave with us.”
“Tomorrow!” Ivory said. “That is so soon.”
“Yes, it is, but you and your beloveds cannot not continue to explore your desires without the bond of marriage between you,” their mother said. The girls blushed. “Now to bed, my daughters. On this night you will sleep in my room. Kiss your loves good night. A quick peck will do, gentlemen.”
The men bowed and kissed the old woman’s cheek, then kissed the women they loved. They turned away, leaving the mother and her daughters to their own devices. Out in the tent the two brothers spoke of the story their mother had told. They realized that their wives were not peasant women, but were indeed Princesses. “Our people will be pleased,” Grant told his brother.
“Even if they are granddaughters of our enemy?”
“The people hungered for peace, just as much as our father, so I believe they will not pass judgment on the innocent heads of our wives, nor their mother. Peace is waiting for us and with it we bring only more strength to an already strongly woven alliance.”
The brothers slept lightly that night, each one consumed with their own dreams of a better tomorrow. Inside the cottage the girls slept with their mother. They held her close and felt the weight of all that they’d learned and all they’d done sit heavy on their minds, but so did exhaustion and soon the girls were fast asleep, just moments after their mother began snoring.
Early the next day the wagon and horse team that the old woman had hired, along with approximately thirty villagers, and several soldiers that had traveled with Grant arrived at the old woman’s cottage. They comprised of four families, and a few single gentlemen. The girls were at first shy around the new arrivals, but soon after seeing their mother interacting with them they too felt more at ease and were able to work side by side with them without feeling self-conscious.
Grant and Richard along with the strongest men from the village went to work moving whatever furniture the old woman wished to keep, while the women packed up the smoked meats, and stored fruits and nuts that had been put away for harsh times. The villagers themselves had brought their own supplies, as well as their own means of travel. They all stopped their work for an early meal and began again as quickly as they were able. When all was said and done, the little cottage looked more bare than the mother had expected.
“I was not expecting us to take it all,” she admitted to the men when they asked her if they had forgotten anything. “There are just two things missing,” she told them.
Richard asked her to point them out and he would be happy to pack them up along with the other things.
The old woman smiled. “Oh, these must be handled with care,” she whispered, then picked up a pair of pruning sheers and a shovel. She handed the shovel to Richard and asked Crimson and Ivory to help her and the young man. The girls followed their mother, as did Richard and soon they were standing in front of the two rose bushes that their father had planted.
The young people waited, while the mother carefully pruned down the rose bushes. Grant appeared and quickly picked up the blossoms that were in full bloom, as well as the ones that were still just promising buds.
Satisfied with her work, the old woman stepped back and instructed Richard on how to dig up the bushes, and she told her daughters how best to pack the roots so that the plants would survive the long journey back to her homeland. When the task was complete, the old woman turned and told her family that it was time to go.
The group of villagers, as well as the soldiers, Grant, Richard, the daughters, and the old woman took their places in the caravan of travelers. The journey they knew would be long and tiresome, but excitement hung in the air. As the days turned into nights, and the nights turned into days, the girls learned more and more about where they were going. Each villager who had lived in the old lands had a story to tell and it was not only the girls that were learning things. Some of the families that were moving back had young children and these children were also entranced with the stories of the past.
Richard and Grant did not get to spend much time with their beloveds. They were busy keeping the group moving, as well as going with their men to scout out potential camps for the night. Often they along with some of the village men would disappear for the entire day as they hunted for fresh meat. During the course of their travels they were able to stop and drink fresh water from springs and on more than one occasion they dined on fresh fish and crawdads.
The trip was not without trials though either. A small child fell ill, and then another, and then another. There was concern that another plague would devour the villagers, but the old woman set the peoples’ minds at ease. “Just a cold,” she told the families. “Children are more susceptible to them when in confined quarters.” After hearing that the children were allowed more freedom to travel and were no longer confined to their wagons. This made for a slower trip, but more enjoyable with less fussy children and no more sickness.
The weather held up well for the most part. There were a few showers and storms that made the days traveling either cold and chilly or stalled completely. Even during these times Ivory and Crimson were kept away from Grant and Richard. Their mother explained that temptation was too great, and now that there were so many eyes to witness their displays of affection it was best for the girls to appear as innocent and pure as they had been the first day the met the gentlemen.
By the time they reached the borders of Grant and Richard’s home word had reached the castle and a small army of men as well as members of the Royal family were there to greet them. Grant shook hands and gave manly hugs to those closest to him, then quickly introduced Richard to those same people. He then introduced the women that would soon become just as important to his people as he and his brother were, and he introduced their mother.
At the border Grant and Richard, along with the old woman and her daughters separated from the rest of the group. Grant gave orders for his men to continue on to the lands that were no longer their enemies, but their own. “Stop at the border and allow the people to see the destruction. Then let them decide if they wish to rebuild there, or return to our lands and begin their lives within our borders. Either way be sure they understand that they are under our protection and that their needs are cared for under the crown I wear and the banner that is carried by my people.”
When the orders were given, the two groups departed and the girls began their final journey to their new lives. Each one was nervous and excited. They rode side by side on their mother’s wagon, their eyes darting to the left and then the right as they took in the different shades of green and brown. There were different flowers to identify, different trees to climb and harvest from. They would need to learn what was safe to eat and what was good for medicine and of course what to stay away from. Everything seemed overwhelming, but their mother was there to hold their hands and their loves were there to guide them through whatever troubles presented themselves.
They arrived at the castle and a great multitude of shouting, singing and praising rose up from the people. Another whirlwind of activity commenced and the girls along with their mother were shown to a wing of the castle that was intended for the Royal family. By the time the first evening under the shelter of Bertrum banner had arrived, no one, not even two young girls who were deeply in love could keep their eyes open. They barely kissed their mother goodnight and fell onto their individual beds more exhausted than they had been since the first day of their birth.
It would be two weeks before the excitement of everything finally quieted down enough that the daughters and their mother were able to sit and talk about the upcoming weddings that would take place within three days. The old woman had called in her daughters to her bedroom and they sat patiently, wearing dresses that were made of the finest satin and trimmed with sparkling jewels.
“My daughters, I along with a few very talented maids that are under your Lordships employ have worked hard to create your wedding gowns.”
Both Ivory and Crimson beamed with joy and shifted nervously on their seats. The old woman chuckled, but the happiness she saw in their faces only made her more excited to show the girls their lovely gowns. She called out to a maid that was waiting just outside the chamber door and several women entered.
“Ivory, your gown,” the mother said, and a woman came forth and showed Ivory a dress made of the whitest fabric and decorated with the most brilliant red gems. There were ribbons of red woven along the hem, the sleeves, and the color. Small red roses dotted the waistline and the bodice, and along the skirt were more roses, these were both red and white and they had been placed in a way that reminded both girls of rippling currents in a spring.
Ivory wept over the beauty of the gown, hugged her mother and begged to try the garment on. “In a moment,” her mother said. She then turned to Crimson and Crimson stood. Her dress came next and though its base color was white, there was an abundant amount of ruby red woven and tucked into the skirt and bodice. Diamonds had been stitched throughout the ensemble. As had emeralds and sapphires. Small roses had been placed at the hem, waistline and neckline of the dress and those too resembled the same shape and color that Ivory’s dress. Crimson too ached to try on the gown and soon both women were given what they wanted.
The old woman stood, tears falling down her cheeks as she gazed upon her daughters. She puttered around, doing their hair and explaining to the staff what would be expected of them that day. When the girls were told to remove their dresses, they do so, but now they were even more anxious for their wedding day.
The old woman took the girls by their hands, dismissed the maids and asked the girls if they had any questions for her.
“What do you mean, mother?” Ivory asked.
“Your wedding nights will be upon you and I know you have not lost your maidenheads. Do you have any questions?”
Crimson cocked her head to one side. “Did we not ask enough last winter?”
Their mother laughed. “Oh you asked more than enough and I believe I covered all your concerns, but I do not wish to send you to the lion’s den ignorant and unaware. I forced you to grow up without knowing how life began and I do not wish you to be frightened by what will take place.”
Ivory reached out and touched her mother’s hand. “We are not frightened mother. If the truth is to be spoken, we are both excited and somewhat ashamed.”
Crimson nodded her head in agreement.
“Ashamed?” their mother asked.
“Yes,” Crimson whispered. “We hunger for our men so much that we fear it is unholy.”
Ivory added, “And mother, we — we wish to continue finding passion together,” she reached over and took Crimson’s hand.
Their mother smiled. “Do your beloveds know this? That you both wish to remain intimate with one another even after you have wed?”
“Yes,” Ivory answered. “I have spoken to Grant and he as well as Richard have agreed to allow us to let our love continue in such an intimate way.”
Crimson nodded her head. “It is what we want,” she told her mother. “Are we wrong to do this?”
The old woman shook her head no. “Daughters, you were placed on this earth and given pure hearts. You grew in beauty, grace, and love. You shared the same womb and why would you not wish to continue that bond? It is natural. I am not ashamed nor should you be. But what of your men. What will they do while you two are renewing your passion for one another.”
Both daughters blushed a bright red hue.
“I see,” their mother said. She laughed softly. “Well, then I ask only one thing. If your men watch or participate in your lovemaking, take steps to ensure that no other man’s seed enters your womb but the seed of your spouse. It is that seed which makes children and there can never be a question as to who has fathered your children. You are Princesses and soon, you,” she touched Ivory’s knee, “will be a Queen.”
The girls nodded their heads. “Mother our men only wish to watch and join us on occasion yes, but neither man wishes to use his cock in the other sister’s pussy,” Ivory said.
Their mother laughed. “Oh you dears have come a long way haven’t you! The words now just fall from your tongue like slick falling from a spool.”
Again their mother’s words made both Crimson and Ivory blush. “Go my lovely daughters find something to occupy your minds. I know your men are busy fellows and you have been forced to learn the ways of royals. I order you to take a moment to yourselves.” She got up and headed toward her bed, then turned to look back at her daughters. “Grant told me of a heated pool that is somewhere within the castle. Go find it and enjoy yourselves. I know my loves it has been a long time and I know you both glow more brilliantly when you have found the passion that only you can bring each other.”
Her daughters smiled, kissed her cheeks and hurried to find the heated pool that their mother spoke of. The old woman felt another way of peace wash over her, as well as sorrow from the lack of her husband’s presence. She walked over to the window and stared down at the garden below. There in the center were her two rose bushes and new sprouts were already peeking out from the trimmed branches. With her fingers to her lips, she sent a kiss to the plants and whispered “I love you” to her husband.
The girls were given directions on how to find the pool. It was after all tucked away from prying eyes, a structure that had been built by order of the old King. He had been a world traveler until the wars and had enjoyed the comfort of a rock pool during his time in the desert. The girls found the waters and quickly disrobed.
They did not waste time on playing or splashing, they needed each other and so their lips came together and their tongues battled for dominance over the other, but neither won. In truth they were too hungry to demand anything of the other. They moved as one. Their hands slid over breasts, and down hips, across bellies, and against soft mounds. Their fingers tinkled, caressed and probed the nooks and crevices that each sister knew the other liked to have rubbed and touched.
Their mouths moved over flesh not covered by the water, but it was not enough. They left the water and Crimson lay down upon the rocks, her sister climbed over her so that each sister could suck, taste, and delve into the succulent flesh of the other. Their need was great and their patience thin.
“Come for me,” Crimson gasped against her sister’s glistening mound. “It has been so long!”
Ivory shoved her pussy into her sister’s face and gyrated her hips. Their innocence still existed, but not for each other, it was their men they were innocent for. Their passion and desire had become a constant in their lives and the words that they once blushed over now fell smoothly and kept them both aroused.
“Your pussy taste amazing,” Ivory said as she spread her sister’s lips open more and began to thrust her tongue in and out of the slick hole. “Oh Crimson, my beautiful Crimson. I feel your passion. I taste it. I can breathe you in and never will it be enough.” She pushed two fingers into her sister and began to work quickly. She wanted her sister’s honey and she wanted to give up her own at the same time. “Sister, tell me when you are going to come. Wait for me,” she pleaded.
Crimson nodded her head against her sister’s womanhood. “I will,” she gasped. “It will not,” she thrust her hips forward, “take long,” she cried as her body began to boil. “Soon! Oh God, Ivory! Soon!”
Lips, tongues, teeth, fingers — it was all a blur as the sisters screamed and came together. Their juices exploded and each woman struggled to take every drop of cum the other offered. They did not stop their sucking, nor did they stop their lewd gyrations. They were women and they needed fed. Each sister climaxed again and once more they moaned and swallowed the hot liquid satin. When they came a final time, both girls wept from the emotions that rocked through them.
Eventually reality returned and the need to breathe forced the sisters to pull apart. As they slowly came back to earth, two sets of eyes turned away. “We can never separate them,” Grant said to his brother as the two men walked away.
“No, we may not,” Richard agreed.
The day of the wedding came and with it a great celebration began. A feast fit for four kingdoms was spread out over three rooms and villagers from every realm that bordered Bretrum and those that bordered those came to celebrate, not only the marriage of King Grant to Princess Ivory, but they also came to celebrate the return of Prince Richard and his marriage to Princess Crimson. They celebrated the peace and the return of Princess Marie, the mother of the new Queen and new Princess, and the former Princess of an enemy no longer able to reign terror on his people.
And as Marie watched her daughters marry she felt a presence descend upon her. She smiled, knowing that God had allowed her Peter to return and sit beside her while their children wed. Marie closed her eyes and felt his hand upon hers and his lips upon her cheek. He remained with her until the wedding bells rang and the couples left the chapel. Only then did she feel alone once more.
The dancing, eating, and gaiety continued far into the night, but when Marie retired she heard none of it. Instead she returned to the past and slept quietly while dreaming of her husband and their youth. Her daughters however had long disappeared and had missed out on most of the celebration.
Crimson stood before her husband wearing a thin, sheer nightdress that fell to her ankles. Her dress had been taken away and stored lovingly by some maid her mother had approved of and she’d been given this delicate seductive piece to wear. It was red, the color of her hair and small gems lay across her breasts. When she moved, the candlelight caused the stones to glisten. She smiled as she watched her husband’s cock leap to attention.
“You are so beautiful,” Richard said. “Come to me,” he whispered.
Crimson walked over and crawled onto the bed. He lay there, with his head and torso supported by pillows. “I do hope that gown survives the night,” he said as she slid over his legs and lifted the gown so her wet pussy rested on his hard cock.
“It must,” Crimson whispered.
“Then it is best to remove it now,” he said. Richard gathered the hem and lifted it from his wife’s body. He then gently let it fall from his fingers to lie in a puddle on the floor. “There it has survived. The question, my Princess, is will you?” He grabbed her hips and rolled her to her back. She squealed and he laughed.
He pushed his face between her legs and began to dine on the moisture that always seemed to drive him wild. His tongue dove in and out of her hole and his fingers teased the sensitive flesh of her asshole. She bucked against his face and wrapped her legs around his shoulders, pressing the heels of her feet into his skin. He kept his hands on her hips and moved his head back and force, scratching her with the stubble that had sneaked out during the evening.
The friction only added to Crimson’s pleasure. She reached down and shoved his face in deeper. He chuckled and she growled from the heat of his breath against her skin. One of her hands moved to knead and twist her nipples. She alternated from one then the other. “Richard!” His name was screamed and the sound of it bounced off the walls. “My God! Oh my God, Richard!”
He felt her muscles tightening around his tongue and fingers. He continued to push her closer to the edge. His cock ached and burned. His balls were on fire and the pain he endured seemed unreal. “Crimson, you hot slut. My God, how you make me burn!” He dragged his face from her sex and moved over her, so that his cock lined up easily with her slick hole. He stared down at her passion-filled face and kissed her while pushing the head of his shaft into her pussy. “Now my love!” he said, and then shoved the full length of his manhood into her eager and hungry sex.
Crimson cried out as the pain from accepting his full length and losing her virginity rained down on her. The sting was real and the invading force had taken possession of her. Richard kept still though everything in him told him to pull out and plow back in again. He kissed her lips, drove his tongue into her mouth and kept her thoughts preoccupied with his kisses.
When he felt her hips move and her hands flutter down to rest on his ass cheeks, Richard began to move. He was slow at first, making sure she had time to adjust her position and to feel his full length. When her hips rose and her moans became softer and less wince-like, he pushed deeper and began to quicken his pace.
A soft whimper followed by a low groan told him that she was feeling better and that his patience was winning. He gently kissed her lips, then moved to tease her throat. All the while he rotated his hips, so the head of his cock and its length would scrap and massage her tender flesh. Again she shifted under him, and purred softly. Her legs relaxed and her feet began to move along the sides of his legs, as if beckoning him to increase his rhythm.
Richard moved down, allowing his cock to partially remain buried in his wife. He lifted one of her breasts and began to suck and nip at the tiny bead that poked and ached for his attention. Crimson gasped and moaned, cupped the back of his head and held him to her. He grinned, supported his weight with his elbows and pushed her tits together. “If I remember correctly, there was this one time under a tree when you, my dirty wife, made her skirts all wet.”
Crimson groaned and tugged on Richard’s hair. “You remember correctly,” she hissed.
He smiled, and began to suck on both nipples at the same time. Again brilliant heat radiated from her nipples, through her breasts and deep into her chest. Crimson cried out his name and her hips bucked against his pelvis, forcing his cock’s length to slide back into her tight hole. “Oh God!” she gasped and thrust her hips again, while he bit down on her tender buds. “Richard! Oh fu… .”
“Say it!” he shouted. “Say it!”
Crimson licked her lips. “I… .”
He bit her again. “Say it!”
“Oh God! Oh fuck!” Crimson screamed the vulgarity and came hard around her husband’s cock. Richard shoved his full length in and covered her mouth with his. He pumped his dick several times in and out, each drive back in was harder than the last. “Fuck! Oh fuck! Richard!” The word now seemed natural to Crimson and as she came again, she felt an odd sensation of heat fill her sex.
“Crim, oh fuck, Crim,” he said, unknowingly shortening her name. His cum exploded against the walls of her womanhood and left her blanketed with his seed. He felt her muscles tighten around him. Instinctively they milked his seed. Her body craved it as did he crave giving it to her. He pushed deeper, more spilled out as she climaxed again. His chest tightened as he grunted a low and primal sound of ownership. He felt a final squirt of milk leave his shaft and when he heard his wife’s breath become ragged, he rolled off her and gave her room to breathe.
Several rooms away a different scene had played out. A young woman, dressed in a white gown similar to her sisters, save the color had been treated to a candlelight meal of shellfish and wine. A husband waited on her as if she were the most valuable treasure in his kingdom and in truth she was. He held her hand while they ate and on occasion he fed her. When it was time to seduce his wife, Grant did so with tender caresses, and well place kisses. He did not rush, nor did he press his Ivory into doing anything she was not ready for, much to his surprise his innocent Ivory was hungry for passion that only he could deliver.
She turned the table on him and she worked magic with her tongue and hands. Her mouth devoured his cock, while her fingers massaged and teased his balls. Her teeth tormented his nipples, and her hair tickled his chest as she trailed kisses along every inch of skin he possessed. She had him roll over and she sat on his ass. Her hands moved over his back, and she massaged his flesh. All the while his cock ached to be buried between her swollen lips. She commanded him in a way no woman had before and Grant welcomed it.
When his wife was ready, she straddled him, took his cock in her hand and placed it at her entrance. She then stared into his eyes and he wished he had been a stronger man, but he could not maintain eye contact with her. She laughed as he alternated staring at her eyes and staring at her sex as it slowly, inch by precious inch devoured his manhood.
When the evidence of her innocent showed in her face, he placed his hands on her hips. She licked her lips and shook her head. Grant finally felt needed on his wedding night. He grinned and pushed her down, while driving his hips forward. Her eyes widened in their sockets and her mouth formed a beautiful “O”. He felt the warm blood that came from losing her maidenhead and then he moved her slowly forward and back, allowing her walls to feel his girth.