Day Without Consequences
Chapter 1

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, Teenagers, Consensual, Romantic, Magic, Heterosexual, Fiction, Swinging, Gang Bang, First, Oral Sex, Size,

Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Hyandai, Harlen, and Wendy explore one of the more obscure, at least to outsiders, elven tradition.

Wendy, Harlen, and Hyandai sat around the table in uncomfortable silence. "So, do you have someone in mind?" asked Wendy, eyeing Hyandai.

"No, beloved, I do not," replied Hyandai. "I simply mention it because it is an elven tradition and we follow many of them."

Harlen thought for a long moment. "No consequences?" he said quietly. "You can sleep with anyone you like?"

The elven maiden, one of his two wives, and wife to Wendy, as well, nodded. "Within certain restrictions," she said. "Usually, it is unacceptable to lie with former lovers."

Wendy chuckled. "I could understand that."

The trio had been married a year and a half now. It was early spring and Hyandai, like all elves, had extreme cabin fever from the long winter.

"If we do this thing, then how do we do it?" asked Harlen.

"Normally, one of the partners leaves the home to the other," answered Hyandai.

Harlen shrugged. "I trust you two," he said. "And I know you both receive plenty of invitations to lie abed with other men."

"Not so many as you think, most men are terrified of you, Harlen," said Wendy, giggling. Hyandai nodded assent.

"We may find willing participants rather hard to locate," agreed Hyandai.

"Easily solved," said Harlen. "We just go to another town, Norboro, for example."

Wendy's eyes widened. "You're honestly thinking about this, aren't you?"

"Well, it is the elven way," said Harlen, shrugging.

Wendy laughed. "Okay, well, if you're both for it, then I'll go along." She stared at Hyandai. "Does it ever damage the relationships?"

"Not that I've ever seen," said Hyandai. "Truth be told, most that practice it claim it revitalizes their sexual appetite for one another."

"I don't need my appetite revitalized, not with you two about," said Wendy. "But, as I said, I'll go along with it if you two like."

Harlen nodded. "It sounds oddly fun, though it does have it's rather alarming features," he said.

"As I said, I only mention it as it is a common tradition," said Hyandai. "I have neither said I do or don't wish to do it."

"Well, do you?" asked Wendy.

Hyandai sat silent for a moment. "Yes," she said quietly.

"Mind if we ask why?" asked Harlen.

She looked at each of them in turn. "It is rather simple, actually," she said. "I have spent my whole year fighting my fey, pushing it back and telling it no." She sighed deeply. "It would be liberating to let it loose one day a year."

Harlen nodded. "Then okay," he said. "We can do it, if Wendy is truly agreeable."

"I never thought about it like that, but okay, I agree, too, though I don't have to sleep with anyone, do I?" she asked.

"No, there's never a requirement in it, nor even an absolute expectation," said Hyandai. "I have heard some just desire a long day of romance from someone they cannot normally do so with."

Wendy giggled. "I don't see that happening with any of us," she said.

Harlen said, "We can go to Norboro tomorrow by horse and that will give us one day there before the careshlan tosked esmivani." He adopted his odd lopsided grin. "That will give us a day to scout out targets."

Wendy's face was a mask of shock. "Scout out targets!" she exclaimed.

"Hey! For me its not so easy as two beautiful women, I need to at least know who I need to chase," he said defensively.

The look on Hyandai's face was dubious. "I don't recall you chasing either of us," she said.

"Yeah, Hyandai just ran into you and, hell, she fetched me to you," said Wendy, agreeing.

Harlen laughed. "I don't expect such stupendous good fortune to befall me a third time."

Wendy pulled back her brown hair and looked at Hyandai. "Is there some sort of 'pre observance' we should follow?"

Hyandai nodded, her emerald eyes flickering. "It is traditional to abstain from sex with your partners for a few days in advance." An odd smile crossed her lips. "It is considered rude to go to a new lover with your old lover's scent still upon you."

The two humans nodded agreement with the wisdom of that sentiment.

Though the three shared the bed, they, at great pains, did not partake of love play that night, and slept only in the great huge bed that dominated their bedroom. Arrangements were made in the morning and Gramma and Tammer would share duties minding Young Tammer and Morlani for a few days. They did not explain the nature of their trip beyond 'business in Norboro'.

The trip was pleasant, though it did rain a bit. Their winter cloaks kept them nicely warm and the horses made the trip in short order, taking only ten hours to ride to Norboro, to which all three had been, but they were not well known there.

The town was smaller than Morrovale, and indeed, was part of the same duchy, though it was a much different place. More sedate, and more learned. Norboro housed the duchy's only institution for higher learning, the Norboro Academy. It also acted as the social capital of the duchy. As such, it sported a lot more inns and taverns than its size alone would justify.

As the three rode into Norboro, Harlen looked about. "Lots of young folk about," he said.

"Like hunting a rabbit in a burlap sack, if you ask me," said Wendy, returning several young lad's gazes as they watched the trio ride by.

Hyandai noted the prevalence of elven-style cloaks among the young women in the crowd. "Our fashion has certainly caught on here, has it not?" she asked.

Harlen nodded, "I heard the fashion-conscious among the whole of the Western Realms is wearing elven-style clothes of late, though I'm relieved it wasn't dwarven-style that caught on."

The two women giggled at that. "As am I," said Wendy, "you look silly with a beard."

They rode up to an inn with a stable attached and checked their horses into the stable. Upon entering the inn, they stood inside the doorway, rather shocked. Fully a third of the young women in the common room were wearing elven-style outfits as well, almost identical to Hyandai's. She kept her cloak on for now, rather embarrassed to be wearing something so apparently 'common'.

Harlen raised an eyebrow appreciatively. "I must say, I rather like their clothes," he said.

Wendy nudged him in the ribs. "Not till day after tomorrow, you lech," she said.

Despite the ease of the trip and the fact that they rode, they were tired, and after ordering food brought up to their shared room, they retired for the evening.

When Harlen awoke, he sat up and noted Hyandai was gone from the bed. She was an early riser, as he knew. Wendy, however, was still asleep soundly, being rather the opposite.

Wendy's nude back and rump rather attracted Harlen's eye and he moved over to her and kissed her shoulder.

"We're supposed to abstain, remember?" said Wendy, smiling muzzily as she awoke.

Harlen pressed himself against her back and she felt his rising organ. "I know, but you're hard to resist," he said.

She reached around and down and gripped his thick pole at the base. "It's 'rude' to go to another with me on you," she observed.

Harlen reached about her and gently massaged one breast. "We'll take a bath," he said.

Wendy groaned and said, "Done," as she turned over and kissed him. The two tumbled over the bed for a few moments, kissing and cuddling. Finally, though, Wendy wound up on top and sat up. "Will this upset Hyandai?" she asked.

"I doubt it very much," replied Harlen. "She's always concerned that you and I don't make love alone often enough."

She giggled, lifting herself from him and reaching between her long, slim thighs, gripping his cock. "She does, at that, doesn't she?" said Wendy.

Harlen moaned as Wendy sat down, taking him into her in one smooth motion. She was warm and inviting inside, as she always was. She grunted as she came to rest upon him. "Well, that's not a problem at this moment," she said, and began to rock her pelvis against him.

Harlen's strong hands gripped her slim waist and he began to help her speed up the rocking motion. Wendy rather liked the slight manhandling and it helped her to get where she desired, screaming out in climax as she impaled herself on his organ. After that, his grip tightened, and she knew he would come soon.

"You know you want to. Do it," she coaxed. "I want you to."

He rolled his eyes upward, and tightened his grip on her waist. She sighed in expectation. Lifting her up he began to support her whole weight with his arms and she drew in her legs and pulled them up to her chest. He began dropping her onto his pole, then lifting her again. She squealed in delight at the amazingly shocking ride that it was for her.

She managed to climax again even as he grunted and spent himself into her. She unfolded herself and smiled down at him. "You really should get Hyandai to try that," said Wendy.

"Nah," said Harlen, "there should be something special for you and me, too, you know?"

She slipped off his flagging organ and kissed it. "Okay, then, but I still think she'd love it."

"Love what?" asked Hyandai from the doorway, then her face took on a look of mock upset. "You two just made love!" She shut the room door.

"Sorry, we couldn't resist," said Wendy, giggling.

Harlen smiled sheepishly. "It was my fault, I started it," he confessed.

Hyandai shrugged. "No real matter, that part of the tradition is very optional," she said. "But I would advise bathing tonight."

"What have you been up to?" asked Harlen, noting the bundles that Hyandai bore in her arms.

"Buying clothes," said Wendy, looking accusingly at Hyandai. "And she was upset at us?"

"I could not stand all those young women wearing the same outfit as me," she admitted with a broad smile. "So I went to a tailor and had him make me a proper spring outfit." She then smiled sweetly at Wendy. "I had one made for you, too."

Wendy giggled and held out her hands, beckoning with her fingers.

Hyandai dropped the upper of the two parcels onto Wendy's fingertips and jerked her thumb at the door. "Out, male," she ordered.

Laughing, Harlen stood up and put on his pants and tunic, and picked up his boots and went forth to find breakfast.

He managed to browbeat a platter out of the innkeeper, and was walking back up the stairs when Hyandai popped open the door. "Okay, we're dressed," she said.

Harlen, curiosity marking his face stepped into the room and froze. "Wow," he said, eyeing the dresses his wives were wearing. "I think you two are going to start a new fashion trend."

"Perhaps, but not until after tomorrow," said Hyandai, straightening out her hem. The dresses were form-fitting, as almost everything elves wore were. They were, however long, like evening gowns. At the waist, they started touching, front panel to back, but narrowed down their entire length to the floor, where they came to a point. They showed a LOT of leg. The rear panel was slightly larger than the front, but still left a good portion of each lobe of the rump showing around its sides.

The upper half was a complicated weave of cloth strips that managed to cover the breasts, somewhat, but still left most of the skin of the woman's upper body quite visible, especially the back, which only had a single strip running up the center to split below the long hair of both women and go over their shoulders.

Harlen peered closely. "No loincloth?" he asked.

Hyandai shook her head. "Not appropriate with this style of dress," she replied and Wendy giggled.

"What is appropriate with this style of dress?" asked Harlen.

"Men ogling," replied Wendy, attempting to adjust the back panel to cover a bit more of her rump.

Harlen ogled a long moment. "I probably should get me some fancy clothes, to attract a woman, hmm?" he said.

Hyandai smiled generously. "Just let most of these girls about here see your chest and arms, and they shall follow you home like a puppy given table scraps," she declared. "Most of the young men here are skinny little whelps."

Wendy said, "I still can't believe what we're all about to do here."

"Is that to say you don't want to?" asked Harlen.

She shook her head, sending her hair into a wild cascade of many layers. "No, I've convinced myself to want to, and it should be fun, but it is still odd."

Hyandai did not know how to go about this business. Normally, with an elven village, it was a common enough practice that everyone simply accepted it. However, their need for discretion caused them to go where they knew few people, if any. She soon saw several men who were attractive, and spoke to a couple of them, and they seemed nice enough gentlemen.

However, nice and attractive were not the only measures she was seeking to fulfil. This once, she was listening to her fey, and her fey wanted something more. She roamed the shops and simply watched people from time to time. Here would be a well-built man, with his charming wife. She grinned at the thought of seducing both of them, but did not feel up to such a challenge.

She sighed. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. She had not thought of how blindingly difficult it might be to find a partner for one day's abandon. In Morrovale, she knew of at least ten men whom she would willingly bed, and nearly as many women. She turned toward the Academy again, though she had been down that street before.

There was a lad sitting on the stoop of a house there. He looked to be of age, though barely. He was reading a book intently, and enjoying a bit of the waning sun on a cool spring afternoon. The book immediately caught Hyandai's eye, it was penned in elven.

"You read elven?" asked Hyandai, realizing she had, for the first time since leaving Wendy and Harlen, spoken to someone beyond 'excuse me'.

The lad looked up, he was a bookish sort, and wore spectacles, which rather surprised Hyandai, vision ailments were normally easily corrected by most villages hedge-magi or clergy. "Yes, I have been donning it for several centuries now," he replied.

Without thinking, her scribish ways reinforced themselves. "I have been learning it for several years now," she corrected him. "Your elven is very good."

He smiled up at her. "Thank you, yours is bigger, though."

Hyandai giggled at that one. "It should be," she said, lowering her hood. Elves were not yet so common in the duchy that they often passed unnoticed, except at a few of the more popular wayside inns. The lad's eyes widened and he lowered his head in a elven bow, that was credibly executed.

"Your grace honors me," he said, in flawless elven, even the accent was perfect.

Hyandai smiled and clapped her hands together. "Well said," she said, and bowed low, formally. "I am Hyandai of clan Yavanaur," she said, also in formal speech.

He rose and repeated his bow, this time formally, and very well. "I am Kenett, son of Darvan and Sara," he said. "I must say you are incredibly beautiful."

Hyandai blushed slightly and an voice deep inside her said, HIM! For the first time in many months, she simply let it yell for its want, and then said to it, Very well, him. "I thank you, Kenett, and I must say you're a good-looking and studious man yourself."

She then focused herself inward and let her defenses down. Go ahead, she said to her innermost self, but no actions until the morrow. "Would you like to show me about town a little while, if you have the time?" she heard herself ask.

Harlen was even more forlorn than Hyandai. He knew he could easily find a lass in one of the taverns or a tavern wench herself. However, much like his lovely spouse, he knew this was not for such a thing, the person that one spent careshlan tosked esmivani with must be worthy, not just settled upon.

One woman approached him as he drank a beer, steeling himself to search elsewhere. "Hello, ranger," she said. It was Natlee, the wife of one of the other rangers. She peered at him hard. "You look like your looking for something, tracking in town are you?" she asked.

Harlen nodded. "In a manner, yes," he said. Pity you're married, Natlee, you'd do admirably, he thought. She was a pretty woman, tall and statuesque, with long, flowing blonde hair. "You wouldn't have a sister would you?" he quipped.

She giggled. "I do, but you're a married man, Harlen," she said. Then her eyes turned to him at a slight angle. "Or does that matter?"

Harlen shrugged. "Today it does, tomorrow, not so much, if you can keep it from other ears."

She nodded. "Good as my word," she said, "and it doesn't matter tomorrow? How does that work?"

He explained things to her, rather simplistically, but adequately. She smiled more broadly as the conversation went on. "Harlen, my dear man, if you simply need a partner for tomorrow's - festivities, then I happily volunteer. Any man who can keep two women, one of them an elf, satiated is someone I would be eager to discover more of."

"Ah, but you're a married woman," said Harlen, "and I'll not encourage you to break your vows."

"If only," she said, sighing. "However, I may know a young woman you might be interested in speaking to." Natlee pointed over toward the far end of the bar, a girl sat there, wearing a long dress as well, and with long, straw-colored tresses. She was tall, also, like Natlee, and well-built, not skinny.

He looked back at Natlee. "You know her?" he asked, suddenly very interested.

She nodded. "I know her well, we are good friends," she said, "us giant women must stick together." She stood from her stool. "Come, I will introduce you to her."

He could not believe his nervousness as he walked down the bar with Natlee, he felt like a youth at a village dance, preparing to ask a girl for his first dance with her.

The girl noted their approach and turned. "Natlee! It's good to see you here," she said, smiling brightly. Harlen noted a faint row of freckles across her nose and cheeks, very becoming freckles.

Natlee said, "Crissa, I'd like to introduce you to an old friend, Harlen of Morrovale."

The tall woman stood and regarded Harlen. "I have heard his name mentioned before, often, isn't he the ranger who married the elven woman?" she asked.

Harlen shuffled his feet. "That would be me, Crissa," he admitted.

Her smile did not dim in the least. "I have oft wondered what a man can do that would make one of the firstborn fall for him," she said, eyeing him speculatively.

Natlee had conveniently disappeared when Harlen looked over his shoulder.

"Um, well," he stammered. "I suppose it was nothing really." He looked at her again, she was really cute, and her smile just kept getting more stunning by the minute. "I should be straight with you... " he said, and told her everything. By the time he was done, he noted that Crissa was possibly the single most lovely creature he'd ever laid eyes upon, and he wondered how he could have ever thought otherwise.

Her hair shone golden in the lamplight of the tavern, and her teeth flashed white. Her unblemished skin seemed to glow from within, and when she giggled, it was a sound that nearly made him weep with its beauty.

She grinned at him, her smile fading just a touch. "Harlen, did you say that it starts on the morrow?"

He nodded, smiling nervously. "Yes, on the day opposite our anniver... "

The sentence was never completed as Crissa put her arms about his shoulders and kissed him firmly on the lips. She was passionate about it, too, and he felt her long, strong body press to his. She broke the kiss and regarded him. "It's after midnight, my man for a day," she said in a husky voice.

It was nearly midnight, and Wendy, still brooding on her lack of success in finding a potential partner for the morrow was stewing her mind at another tavern, this one called the Twopenny Nail. She sat nursing a tall ale and wondered what she might do now.

Then it happened.

One drunk in the back of the Nail threw a punch at another, and like a wildfire in a dry field, the bar erupted into a war zone. Wendy slowly turned from the bar upon her stool. Yes, this is about right, she thought. Look for a lover and find a fistfight.

The women of the Nail were just as enthusiastic about the brawl as the men, and there did seem to be some rather close involvement of the furniture. She sighed as she ducked and a hurled mug smashed into the pillar next to her. She pointed a finger at the man who had hurled it and he shrugged and smiled sheepishly. That was when some wench wearing an outfit far too revealing for someone who had that much to reveal grabbed her arm.

You'd think she'd never been headbutted before, Wendy thought as the woman slumped to the floor. Now, however, her own blood was beginning to boil, and it was high time someone paid for her frustration for the day. Moving through the crowd of brawling patrons like a silverfish, she blurred through the mass of bodies and flying crockery.

Here some lout would feel his shin mercilessly kicked, there a man would grab for his groin after a moderate kneeing, and she distributed liberally of her favorite, the headbutt.

There were five lads trying to bring down a large red-haired Coghlandish mercenary. The recently discharged soldier in her resented a fellow soldier being harassed and she threw herself into the fracas, passing out elbows and kneecaps to all and sundry.

Finally, after long moments, the crowd realized who had pretty much attacked everyone in the building and they all began to turn upon Wendy. She decided it was time to go, else she would be too sore to enjoy tomorrow, if she found a victim.

As the small hoard of ruffians, barmaids, and farmers surged toward her, she was grabbed unceremoniously from behind by great, powerful hands and felt herself flying bodily through the air in the wake of something that seemed to clear a path for itself, like the prow of a ship. She realized with a wicked grin, the Coghlander's comrades had arrived and were plowing a clear path of escape for her and the red-headed man.

Outside, the Coghlanders moved to the middle of the street and several patrons of the tavern pursued them out. They stopped near the entrance and hurled insults at the group of three giant mercenaries and the petite woman. Wendy matched them and screamed back. One patron hurled a small stone, which missed her by mere inches. She lurched after the offending person, but two massive hands reached out and grabbed her upper arms, holding her back despite her spitting curses and flailing limbs.

Looks of alarm passed between the three large men. "Please, miss, before the constables arrive, calm yourself," said one of them in surprisingly good Westron.

She did so, settling down and panting, still staring at the inn door. One of the Coghlanders laughed and said something in their harsh-sounding language. At her curious look, the one who spoke good Westron said, "He says you fight with the spirit of a cougar." Then he added, "A particularly mean cougar."

She laughed at this, smiling up at the big, strong men around her. "Well, I don't think we'll be getting any more beer here tonight," she said.

They nodded agreement and one said something in Coghlandish again. "He says we have beer at our billits," said the one, translating for his brethren.

Wendy thought a moment, then nodded. "More beer sounds good," she said, her panting now down to simple heavy breathing.

They walked toward the edge of town and to a open area with several large wooden structures built in the middle. They guided her to the central building and into a room there. Two large bunks were in the room, and a table. On the table, true to their word, was a keg. Mugs were produced and beer was poured.

Hyandai had told the lad to meet her again after midnight. She stood, again wearing her long cloak, which protected her against the chill night that the spring still gave them. She was undeniably nervous, but she let her inner voice guide her actions, and gave every appearance of calmness.

She stood in the park, near the Academy, the youth was attending that institution and knew well the ways to the green sward behind it. She was a bit nervous being the only person in a darkened place such as this, though her night vision made it as bright as day to her golden eyes.

He arrived. She watched the young man walking through the alley, a glass-enclosed candle for illumination. As he approached her, she smiled at him and lowered her hood again. She forced herself to swallow deeply and then turned over control for the time to her fey.

Kennet smiled as he caught sight of her and walked up. He bowed low and said. "Your presence to meet me honors my spirit and warms my heart."

She grinned broadly, running her slender fingers through her silken hair. "Your desire to meet me in this place of beauty causes me to desire your touch," she said.

He visibly gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up then down. "I thought from the ring you wear that you are married," he said, obviously confused.

"I am," said Hyandai. "Yet today, as of the mid night, is careshlan tosked esmivani. I am free this day to take another lover." She leveled a intense golden gaze upon him that gathered all the stray light from the candle and focused it upon his face. "I have chosen you, if you are willing."

He thought a moment, various emotions chasing across his features. "A fool, alone, would refuse a day of your affections," he said, reaching out and taking her right hand. He brushed his lips upon the back of her palm and said. "You honor me to consider me as a lover, and I wish to know your touch."

Hearing traditional words in elven that were oft spoken by lovers caused her heart to flop in her chest and she felt other reactions in places far less romantic. Did this charming lad intend to follow the elven path to lovemaking? She certainly hoped so, it would be a charming change from the practical, very intense, and quite fulfilling sex that she had with her two human spouses.

She turned her hand in his grip, taking hold of his fingers, scholar's fingers, slender and long, with ink stains on a couple of them, like her own often were. She lifted his hand to her cheek and rubbed the palm against it. "Kennet, I have chosen you to love me this day, and I would have you take me at your will," she said, formally.

He knelt and put his hands upon her slender waist. "Hyandai, I sing gladly of your beauty and of your charm. Please accept me to you as lover, even for but a day."

Her head tilted and her eyes sparkled as he set down the candle and lowered his eyes to the ground. She slipped the cloak from her shoulders, her new dress satiny soft and shimmering in the candlelight. He looked up and saw the slender lines of the gown and the immense amount of fair skin it revealed to his eyes. In his eyes, she looked more than any woman of the world, and more a goddess of old. "So beautiful," he murmured in Westron, his elven escaping him for a moment.

She knelt as well, now, her knees upon the cloak on the ground. Her long skirt's tails folded beneath her as her knees rested on the soft leather of the cloak. "Kennet," she said, simply and kissed him.

"So, you have a partner of sorts, as well?" asked Harlen looking at Crissa in the dim light of the street lamps.

She nodded. "Yes, my lover Wenn, but we are not monogamous, it does not behoove us to try to be so, at this time." Her arm was in his and she smiled as he gazed at her. She had let some of the glamor she had placed upon him dwindle, and she was now, once again, simply very pretty and extremely desirable.

While only a year younger than Wendy, she seemed several years his human bride's junior. Her care-free face showed a life that was enjoyable and interesting. "I am a magician in training, you understand."

He nodded as they rounded the corner and faced toward the large home that belonged to the well-known magician in Norboro, Marrat.

She peered up at the near turret of the almost palatial home. "Wenn is out this night, and I love making love on the high turret, over our room, if you are amenable."

Harlen nodded and she headed to the side door to the manor. They walked in and up the staircase next to the entrance. It spiraled up the five floors to the bedchamber. She smiled and walked to a spot in the middle of the room and pulled down a rope that hung from a trapdoor in the ceiling.

A ladder descended and rested upon the floor. The pair clambered up it and onto the flat, crenelated area atop their room. Cold winds played over Harlen's cheeks and he saw the pretty farmgirl shiver a little. He opened his cloak and gave her a look.

She smiled and pressed herself to him, and felt the warm cloak enfold her. She had met few men who dwarfed her, but Harlen was one of them. She felt, at last, like a petite and delicate creature in a man's hands, other than the once she had been with a big mercenary.

She could feel his manhood against her pelvis and smiled up at him. "Do you want me?" she asked.

Wendy sat upon the lower bunk of one bed and giggled as the Coghlanders relayed stories of their campaigns to her through Nollag, their corporal and leader. They were very entertaining, and the beer was very good.

She felt herself sweating a little in the small room and stood up and walked to the pegboard on the wall, where they had hung their cloaks. Shedding hers she turned about to regard three somewhat stunned expressions.

It took her a moment to realize why there were staring. She was wearing that very skimpy dress Hyandai had made for her. Did she wish to leave just yet? She decided no, she was, in general having a splendid time.

As she sat, the conversation began anew, and she was treated to further tales of misadventure between these three very good friends. She learned the other two were named Gellas and Gregor. Gellas was the blonde and Gregor was the platinum blonde, leaving Nollag the designated redhead.

She found their kilts charming and quite interesting. "Is it acceptable for a woman to wear one of those?" she asked, or must they wear pants in Coghland?"

Nollag rumbled a laugh and translated for Gellas and Gregor, then they joined in the laughter.

"No, lady, they can wear kilts, or dresses, normally, but there are a few who wear the pants in their home," he said.

It took her several seconds to notice the large, strong hand on her thigh, just outside the area covered by the front panel of her dress. She glanced down at it and between her frustration at the night and partially from the alcohol she had been drinking with every bit of fervor that these mercenaries showed.

She let the hand be, for it did feel good. So, Nollag is staking his claim is he? She thought. Wendy smiled brightly at Nollag and put her own hand upon his knee, her fingertips just under his kilt by a few inches. She surprised herself with her boldness in this movement and smiled at him unconsciously. Her eyes closed for a second and she felt warm soft lips meet hers. She allowed the kiss to go on a long moment, and parted her own warm lips for his tongue when he moved it to her.

The conversation in the room had died off as they kissed, and she assumed the other two were quietly skulking out, to give Nollag privacy with his woman.

The kiss deepened and she felt his hand move under her own skirt, and up her long, slender thigh. She sighed inwardly and he broke the kiss, moving his lips to her neck. She tilted her head back and opened her mouth to moan as his tongue moved over her ear.

Then another set of lips kissed hers. Her large blue eyes opened at the touch and she saw Gregor's handsome face and nearly white hair. A brief flash of surprise moved through her but it soon passed as the man brushed over her lips with his tongue. She parted them for him even as Nollag nibbled upon her neck and ear.

It did not surprise her nearly as much when yet another pair of lips began to work on the opposite side of her neck from Nollag.

The young man, Kennet, was an accomplished kisser, she found, and their kiss lasted many minutes. She was breathing heavy as they parted lips and she moved her hands over his shoulders and upper arms. He took the movement and explorations of her fingerstips as a invitation to touch her, which, she supposed it had been.

His hands moved to her own shoulders, caressing the bare, cool skin there and moving down her slender arms. The touch raised goose bumps on her skin and she smiled at the thrill it sent through her frame. "Like touching moonlight," he said even as the moon broke through the clouds and half illuminated the clearing they knelt in.

She sighed at the sheer perfection of this moment and said. "The moonlight welcomes the soft caress of a lover's hands and the gentle warmth of a lover's lips."

He leaned forward and kissed her bare shoulder, and nuzzled into her silken hair, inhaling deeply her scent. She smiled and moved her long fingers through his curly hair and turned her head to kiss his ear. She almost expected it to be pointed, as her own, but alas, he was still human, though he was doing an excellent job of making her forget that little fact.

Her hands moved down his chest, then up under his shirt, her fingertips danced over his slender frame, though not scrawny as she had expected, just very slim. He, again, gave more the feel of an elven man than human, and that, she decided, was all to the good.

His hands tentatively moved down her sides, where the front and back panels of her top left open skin, then moved inward beneath her small, round breasts, brushing over her taut stomach. Then they moved upward. Hyandai gasped as one hand moved onto her soft breast, then the other hand moved onto the other. His touch was amazingly gentle. Her nipples hardened like stones on her breast, though, as if responding opposite the level of power applied to stimulate them.

His lips, once again, moved onto her own, and they kissed long and hard again, his fingers kneading the flesh of her breasts and her hands moving down his belly now, and stopping at his belt.

She glanced down as the kiss ended and with a last shuddering release of will, let her fey have the night.

It was like watching someone else do something. Her hands moved like they knew their business as they flipped open the clasp for the belt and unfastened it. They then moved to his hips and gently urged him to stand. He stood and she removed his shoes, then pulled his pants down and off his feet. She purposely did not look at his manhood, for that would wait until she was quite excited enough for it.

Her fingers touched each foot and began to gently explore their way up his legs. Her eyes followed her hands' movement, and as she passed mid-thigh, she glanced up at his fully erect manhood. He was not particularly large, but then again, neither were elven men, and this would serve her purpose as well, for the illusion that they were weaving about themselves was that of two young elven lovers in the wood.

He knelt again and she lifted his tunic off his shoulders. It was chilly, in truth, but neither seemed overly inclined to worry about it. Now, she stood before him and he removed her low, soft boots from her delicate feet. He then reached up to her hips, where the strings that would release her long gown's skirt were. Slowly, and very deliberately, he pulled those strings. The skirt simply slipped down her legs and onto the ground.

He sighed in excitement as he gazed upon her pubic mound and the tiny slit between her long thighs. She knelt again before him, closer this time, where his erect cock was actually brushing against her belly. He untied the top, and it, like the skirt fell to the ground, leaving the beautiful elven maiden fully nude before only her second man, save her father on bathing days.

Kennet looked upon the flawless beauty of Hyandai's form and he moved to touch her again, running his fingers over her hips and waist. She reveled in each touch and moaned as his fingertips brushed over her breasts. Hyandai moved one hand over his and moved it slowly down her body to her stomach, then lower, over her entrance. He moved his fingers between her parted legs and she moaned as his soft fingertips passed over her clitoris.

As he began that stimulation, she moved her hand to his erection and took hold of it with a silken grip, her long fingers enwrapping the shaft and beginning to stroke it softly.

"Of course, I want you," said Harlen, lowering his head and kissing Crissa. She responded warmly and he felt desire whip about him like the wind. He pulled her against him hard, their bodies pressing to one another.

She giggled. "I cannot believe I embrace the famous Harlen of Morrovale," said Crissa, smiling and kissing his corded throat.

"It is not such an accomplishment for a beauty like you, I am sure," replied Harlen. Her body was strong, far stronger than his wives'. Crissa had been a farm girl, and used to hard labor her entire life. Her simple good looks and healthy glow made her gorgeous, even without, what he knew now, was magical glamor. He though briefly about the sorceress that he and Hyandai had visited over a year ago. She had used a glamor to make herself lovely, and hiding her twisted true form. "Crissa, please stop using your power to make yourself more lovely," he said.

Crissa looked up at him with amused eyes. "Harlen, my lover, I stopped that an hour ago," she said. "I'm very glad you are married, else I might fall for a man who can compliment me without even trying." Her hands moved over his muscular chest. "You're so strong. I've never felt muscles the like of yours."

Harlen embraced her in another long kiss and began unbuttoning the dress she wore. She did not resist even in the least, more than ready for the handsome and strong man with the smooth tongue to take her.

His cloak stayed wrapped about them, even as her dress slid from her shoulders and fell to the rooftop. He began feeling his way about her body with his fingers, exploring here and there over taut muscles and smooth skin, then pressing into this place or that. Her large breasts intrigued him, for neither Hyandai nor Wendy were so large. He cupped one breast, then the other, almost like he was weighing them, they were soft and firm, and very pleasant to touch.

Wendy's reaction to the contact was nearly as exciting. She moaned as his fingertips tickled her nipples and those hardened. She leaned back and peered into his eyes. "May I touch your mind?" he heard inside his head. The initial start of it waned quickly as he remembered hearing his beloved's voice in his mind before and he did not mind this young woman taking such liberties, as well.

If you wish it, then do, thought Harlen back at her.

He felt, a gentle caress of a feather in his skull as she brushed his mind. "You've been possessed before," she said into his thoughts.

Harlen nodded. One of my wives needed refuge in my mind, he confirmed.

She grinned. "Actually, it makes this easier."

He again felt the feather-soft tickle in his mind and then felt something change subtly. Almost like a path or road had suddenly been diverted around a wood, or a new building was now cause for people to move farther toward that direction.

"I have cojoined us for a while," she said. "We will feel a portion of each other's pleasure."

He lowered his head and kissed her neck. A mild jolt of pleasure ran through him as she sighed at the contact. She saw the shift in his expression and said, again into his mind, "Wait until I climax, you will truly know pleasure then."

"What about when I do?" he asked.

Crissa giggled in his mind, then said, "You will know I felt it when I pass out." She looked at him with a broad smile. "Men have very potent orgasms."

She began to undress him, removing his boots by kneeling down under his cloak. He unfastened the leather cloak for a moment, and they both shivered as she stripped off his tunic and pants. He then put the large cloak about the two of them again.

She urged him to stand as she knelt below the cloak again and kissed her way slowly down his body. When her lips took him in, he groaned and she groaned alongside him. He wondered what it must feel like to her and earnestly wished to find out.

Crissa's tongue lapped at the head and around it, sending thrills through him. Even more impressively, she moaned with each of his own, stimulating herself as she pleasured him. A pair of mischievous blue eyes looked up at him as he peered down and she moved one hand down between her thighs.

An amazingly subtle and pleasant sensation flowed into him from his groin. She was touching herself and he could feel it. He gasped as she slipped two fingers into her slit and pushed them deep into her cunt.

As her head moved back and forth over the soft skin of his organ he heard her think, "You will feel even more when you enter me with this thick organ of yours, lover." The words were interspersed with soft mental moans as her own mouth and tongue gave her pleasure through his manhood. He ran his fingers through her hair, then twined them in among the thick honey-golden strands. He pushed gently, driving more of his pole down her throat. "Yes, take pleasure from me," she thought, her voice nearly lost among the free-floating sensations she was transmitting back and forth between them.

She could not quite take him all, but she did enjoy the attempt and how it felt to Harlen. He could feel his orgasm approach and heard her think, "I will take your seed, lover, continue." even as he though of warning her.

His climax gripped him and the two grunted out in pleasure together. She could not maintain the seal of her lips while groaning loudly and his semen flowed down her chin and splattered on her globe-like breasts. Her eyes were turned up to regard him and she looked half drunk. "By the One, I love a man's climax," she said into his mind.

His spike slipped from her slack lips and she stood again. Another momentary gaze into her eyes and he felt the chill of the nigh evaporate from around them. She smiled and helped him lay the cloak out over the floor beneath them.

"You wished to know how it would feel for me?" asked Crissa. "Then Harlen, mouth me, and discover sublime pleasure." She lay upon the cloak and pulled his hand, bringing him down above her. He began kissing her breasts, sucking one nipple then the other, and pleased with the sensations it generated in his own head. He spent a long while contemplating it, until her fingers stroked his cheek. "Please, tease me no more," she thought.

He kissed his way down her stomach, and finally over her sparse blonde pubic hair. His fingers reveled in the silky down over her entrance, it had been long since he had touched such, for Hyandai had never had pubic hair and Wendy kept hers shaved.

His tongue moved through the soft strands then over her clitoris and Harlen froze as a wave of pleasure shuddered through him. One's praise, Harlen thought.

Crissa's pretty eyes were watching him. "I told you it would startle you," her thoughts said. "Now back to your task, lover of mine. Pleasure us."

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