Chapter 9: Sordid Intent

One of the warriors entertained her audience with the same animated performance style that George had seen in their village, putting on a show as she told a story about some prior battle with the Blighters. The company was transfixed as she gestured and pranced in front of the roaring campfire, it was the closest thing to merriment that they’d had in weeks, but George wasn’t paying much attention. He was more interested in Tia, who had steadily crept closer to him as the night had dragged on, her lithe body pressing close to his at the edge of the fire’s reach.

He could feel her need in the way that she clung to his arm. It was likely that some of the warriors would be sent out into the forest to locate the Blighter camp tomorrow. As one of her people’s most trusted scouts, according to how the Elders had addressed her, she would probably be among them. There was a tension in her, one that he was starting to share as the grains of sand in the hourglass slowly drained.

“We can go to my tent,” he whispered, Tia glancing up at him from beneath the shadow of her cowl. “If we’re quiet, and we keep the flap closed, nobody will hear us.”

“We may be separated tomorrow,” she replied, lowering her voice. “For so many days, I have slept in arm’s reach of you without being able to touch you, always in view of my kin. I want you tonight.”

“Come on,” he said excitedly, helping her to her feet. He guided her into the gloom at the edge of the camp, heading for the tent that he had set up not long after arriving. It was no longer a simple lean-to suspended between trees, he’d had the time and space to erect it fully, and it was just large enough for an adult man to sit inside without brushing his head against the oilskin. He gave one of the sentries that were on watch near the defensive wall a brief wave, then opened the flap, leading Tia inside by the hand.

“This is how you usually sleep?” she asked as she lowered herself to all-fours, crawling on the blankets that served as his sheets. “It is rather ... confining.” She reached up to lower her hood, then ran her fingers through her hair, careful to avoid snagging her horns on the tent. He noticed that she had no flowers tangled around her horns now. She saw that George was looking at her, her freckled cheeks warming as she returned his smile. “What is it?”

“I just haven’t seen your face clearly since we left the village on account of your hood. I was starting to forget how beautiful you are.”

“Flatterer,” she replied, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. “Will you not miss the scent of flowers? The blight has robbed me of them.”

“I think I’ll manage,” he joked, closing the tent flap behind him as he crawled his way over to her. She sat down on the blankets, stretching out her long legs, George reaching down to grip her ankle. She giggled as he ran his hand up her shin, enjoying the velvet texture of her fur and the firmness of the muscles in her calf, Tia shivering contentedly as he reached her thigh. He pressed his fingers into the soft flesh, sliding his palm beneath her loincloth, making her arch her spine as his fingertips brushed something wet.

He wasted no time, lying her down on her back, simply sliding the piece of fabric aside to expose her. Her rosy vulva glistened with anticipation, contrasting with the chestnut hue of the surrounding fur, her lips swollen with arousal. After planting a few teasing kisses on her inner thighs, he drew closer, tracing what felt like pleated silk beneath his tongue. Her hands delved into his hair as he painted her burning loins with his deft strokes, her back rising off the blankets, her silky thighs brushing against his cheeks as she cradled his face between them.

As he crawled his lips up to her engorged clitoris, drawing on it gently, he brought two fingers to her twitching opening. He felt her muscular thighs tighten around his head as he wet his digits with her juices, sliding them between her lips, then slowly pushed them inside her. They glided in her slick fluids, the toned muscles beyond her pillowy walls offering a wonderful kind of resistance as he pressed deeper, her strength squeezing his fingers together. She was feverishly hot, her fleshy insides rippling around his digits, massaging them.

Delighting in the way that his attentions made her buck and squirm, he slowly roamed higher, tasting the salt on her burnished skin as he left lingering kisses on her belly. She flexed with each dart of his tongue, those sculpted rows of muscle rising from her stomach. When he reached her chest, he encountered her sling, a piece of fabric that wrapped around her torso to cover her breasts. Unlike her collar, it provided more support when she was racing around in the woods.

He began to untie it like a bandage, the layers peeling away one by one, her bosom pushing against the material as though fighting to free itself. When the last layer was removed, her breasts bounced free, as firm and as perky as ever. He admired the freckles that dusted them for a moment, then cradled Tia in his arm, pulling her tight against him.

He was kneeling beside her now, one of his hands buried between her thighs, the other supporting her upper body. She lay her head against his shoulder, nuzzling his neck with her black nose, her body slowly undulating in time with his stroking. George lifted her a little higher, her breasts quivering with the motion, bringing his lips down towards her chest. He caught one of her pert nipples, drawing it into his mouth, circling it with his tongue.

Her loins tightened even further, applying so much pressure on his fingers that it was almost uncomfortable, her breathy moans filling his ears. He paused his sucking for a moment to kiss her, feeling her taut muscles relax as he locked her in a passionate embrace, as though all of the tension was melting from her body. When he broke away, starting to move his fingers inside her, he felt her lithe body tighten again. He mouthed and licked at her chest, trapping a nipple between his teeth and his lip as he curled his digits against the roof of her tunnel. She gyrated her hips in response as though trying in vain to fuck his hand, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

He drew back, leaving the freckled skin of her bosom shining with his saliva, starting to move his hand more ardently. He thrust his two fingers in and out of her, stroking her sensitive walls, feeling her hot flesh yield even as it struggled to enclose him. Her cloven hooves clawed at the blankets, her thighs tensing around his forearm, the muscles in her stomach rippling beautifully as she writhed. Cradled in his arm, she could do little more than push her face into his neck, seeming to take in the scent of his beard as the pleasure made her woozy.

As he curled his fingers inside her, he used the heel of his hand to knead her vulva, feeling the firm bead of her clitoris pressing into his skin. He was soon slick with her juices, able to slide across her intimate anatomy, Tia pushing back as she thrust against his palm.

She quickly covered her mouth to muffle an involuntary moan as he upped his pace, her fluids leaking around his digits, dripping to the blankets below in ropes. He felt her flinch whenever his fingers grazed a certain spot, so he focused his attention there, feeling her muscles tremble beyond the barrier of her flesh. A few more strokes was all it took, George pulling Tia tight against his chest as she climaxed, the speed and suddenness of it seeming to surprise her. She buried her face in his shirt, gripping his collar tightly with one hand, her hips fucking the air reflexively as he eased out the pangs of her pleasure. He watched her writhe in his arms, every sharp tremor making her breasts quiver, her sopping passage drawing on his digits like a thirsty mouth.

She sagged into his arms as she enjoyed her afterglow, her breathing growing deeper, more regular. Her long lashes fluttered as he slid out of her, his fingers joined to her lips by a drooping strand of her fluid. She lifted her head to kiss him again, her tongue wrestling with his own, her satisfaction palpable.

It was hot in the tent, and with the body heat of two people making love, there was already sweat welling on their skin. It made Tia shine, like she had just come in from the rain.

He held her for a few minutes longer as she recovered, then he felt the touch of her fingers on his bulge, Tia brushing his erection through his trousers as it strained against them. She cupped it, giving it a squeeze that lit a fire in his belly.

“On your back now,” she whispered, sliding out of his one-armed hug. They both shed their clothes hurriedly, the sound of their shuffling filling the tent, Tia sitting on the blankets as she watched him struggle out of his more elaborate outfit. He stripped off his shirt, then pulled down his long johns, Tia’s eyes locking onto his member as it pulsed in the air.

She crawled closer, placing a hand on his chest to ease him back down onto the ground. When he was prone, she slid her slender fingers across his chest, roaming down to his belly. The sheen of sweat on his skin made him slick, Tia biting her lip as her digits glided over his muscular core. She wrapped her hand around his swollen shaft, too girthy for her fingers to meet, starting to stroke slowly as she knelt between his parted thighs.

George propped himself up on his elbows so that he could watch, Tia bringing both hands to his manhood, the way that her upper arms pressed her pert breasts together drawing his gaze. She twisted them in different directions as they slid from his base to his tip, rubbing his glans with her thumb. Anticipation made him throb in her grasp as she brought her lips down towards him, pursing them to give him a teasing kiss.

Slowly, she slid him deeper into her mouth, George feeling her inner cheeks press around him like a pair of velvet pillows. When she drew on him, they clung to him like a second skin, the underside of his shaft resting on her tongue.

Tia knew him better now, she had learned where he was most sensitive from their last encounter in her hut. He felt her agile organ paint his glans, lapping at a bead of his excitement that was welling at his tip, one of her hands coming down to cradle his balls as the other massaged his length. She was as agile and as precise with her tongue as he was with a pen, his back arching off the blankets as she drew shapes on his tender flesh like she was signing her name.

As her lips inched down his pulsing cock, he felt the familiar pressure of her throat welcome him, the muscles beyond its fleshy lining stroking him as she swallowed. As she gradually drew back, pausing to take a breath, she brought her hand up to slide it through the sheen of bubbling saliva that she had left on his skin. It made her touch slippery, and she began to pump faster, smirking at the way that he flexed in her grip.

When she returned her puffy lips to his member, she pushed his head into her cheek, George sighing as he felt its slippery lining stretch over his sensitive anatomy. She reached up to tap gently on the bulge that it created, George feeling it through the barrier of her flesh.

She let globs of her drool slide down his length as she toyed with him, joining the warm sheen that was already coating his shaft, her slender fingers gliding through it. Her heat was wonderful, seeming to penetrate through his very skin, his nerves set alight by the gentle flurries of her tongue.

He wondered if she wanted him to take her by the horns this time, but she seemed content to bob her head in his lap, taking him a little deeper with each thrust. The damp reaches of her gullet welcomed him with their squeezing and kneading, tight enough to make him wince, strands of glistening drool dangling from Tia’s chin as she increased her pace. He could hear the lurid, wet sounds that she made each time he plunged into her throat, the distinct gulp when she swallowed the saliva that was pooling in her mouth. He found himself praying that the nearby sentry wouldn’t come to investigate, as it sounded distinctly like someone was being choked.

She sensed that he was getting close, pulling back, breathing hard as her pumping fist reached a frantic pace. It felt like she was trying to wring his emission out of him through force alone.

George found himself thrusting into the air with each doting stroke, his hips rising from the ground involuntarily. Tia pressed closer, planting a few sucking kisses on his leaking glans as she began to milk him in earnest with her deft hand, the other sneaking lower to cup his balls. Being assailed from both directions, he couldn’t have staved off his mounting orgasm if he had wanted to. With a few more pumps and one final lap of her tongue, he shot out a thick rope of his seed. It draped itself over Tia’s hand, seeping into her fur, but she paid it no mind. She kept up her lurid attentions, wringing every last drop from him, wads of his emission landing on his belly.