by Reed James
“Yes!” I growled. “I'm almost there...”
Haîcze's tongue slid up the crown of my dick and probed into my slit.
“Fuck!” I gasped and exploded.
I pumped my cum into her mouth. Spurt after spurt of my jizz spilled into her. It fired hot and fast into her. I groaned, my balls tightening. The pleasure surged through my body with the eruptions. I groaned with each one, savoring the bliss.
Little lights danced before me. I tossed back my head, bellowing out my pleasure as the rapture surged into my mind. It was incredible. I felt so alive. So young. So ready to kick ass in this fantasy heaven I found myself in.
“Goddamn, Haîcze!” I growled. “Got a mouth on you, don't you?”
She slid her lips off and stared up at me. “What about you? Do you have a mouth that's good for more than grunting and groaning?”
How long had it been since I ate pussy? Decades. Since I married that emasculating bitch?
“You'll just have to find out.”
She laughed and bounced to her feet, her hair swirling. I expected her to stand, for me to fall to my knees, but she kept rising. She lifted up before me, her bluish flesh sliding past. She rose almost to the ceiling, her legs snapping wide, then she sat down on my shoulders in a burst of air that rippled over me. Her hairless twat right before my mouth.
That sweet musk filled my nose.
“Didn't know you can fly,” I groaned, grabbing her ass while she seized my black hair. She held on tight.
“I can hover,” she said. “Briefly. I am a Sylph.”
“I can fly!” Iris said and zoomed around her.
“You have hardly any mass,” said Haîcze. “I have more weight in my tit than you do in your whole body.”
“And what small tits they are,” I said, staring up at those jiggling breasts, but a different musk drew my attention. The juicy flavor of hot cunt. My mouth salivated. I stared at the hot flesh right before me. She dripped with her juices. I licked my lips, hungering to feast on her. To devour every bit of her.
I would show her my skills.
My hands grabbed her rump. I held on to her tight and buried my face into her twat. She gasped as my tongue darted through her folds. I licked and lapped. My tongue feasted on her juicy flesh. She gasped, her thighs squeezing about my face. She groaned, her breasts jiggling above my head. They were ripe and delicious. A perfect pair of tits to stare at. I hungered to enjoy them.
My fingers dug into her rump as she humped her pussy into my mouth. My tongue plundered her sweet depths. She had a light freshness to her juices. They flowered like nectar. My fingers clenched and relaxed on her, pulling her tight against my face, reveling in the taste of her. The flavor.
Her breasts jiggled as she squirmed on me. She whimpered in delight, her hair dancing about her head, whipped by those winds that caressed her lovely body. She clenched and relaxed about my face, holding me to her hungry twat.
“Oh, yes, yes, Shardhunter!” she gasped. “Oh, Marcus, you are a skilled duelist.”
“Mmm, I'll defeat that pussy,” I growled and fluttered my tongue up and down her cunt. I caressed her juicy folds and battered that clit.
“Yes, yes, defeat my cunt and earn your creamy reward!” she moaned.
I shifted in place, my leather pants around my legs. I held her up, reveling in this wicked delight. Her fingers dug into my hair. Her hot pussy rubbed into my mouth. Cream dribbled over my chin. Down my throat. I thrust my tongue into her and enjoyed the taste of her wonderful passion.
More and more of her cream leaked out of her. It was very nearly a flood now. My fingers along her butt-cheeks as she shifted and humped against me. One dipped into her butt-crack. A naughty idea popped into my head.
“Ooh, a sally from the rear!” she moaned. “Yes, yes, go for it! Press your attack, mighty fighter!”
I caressed her sphincter with my digit. I stroked her in circles as her pussy melted about my tongue. I thrust into her. Plundered her. She gasped in delight. Her pussy squeezed about my face. She whimpered and moaned, her small breasts jiggling above me.
Her tight asshole convulsed around my digit. Her pussy juices gushed out of her. I gulped down her sweet cream as she howled. A wind stirred around me, caressing around my dick, swirling, teasing, caressing it.
“You have defeated me!” she gasped, bucking on me. “Mighty fighter! Marcus! Slayer of pussy! Oh, yes, yes!”
She leaned back and let go of my hair as I feasted on her climaxing twat. Her tits heaved. Her stomach flexed. Then she fell off of me. Her body twisted in the air. The wind whipped around her, slowing her fall, letting her spin around and stretch out on her back.
She landed like a leaf on the stone floor, soft and gentle. She grinned, spreading her legs, her pink depths gushing her juices. They spilled in a puddle on the ground. She wiggled her hips, her eyes sparkling with naughty delight.
“You have slain me, so come and earn your reward!” she moaned. “See if you can't make a changeling in me!”
“Go, Marcus, Go!” cheered Iris. “Breed that Sylph bitch!”
“Least he can fit his cock in me,” Haîcze said.
Iris bristled.
I chuckled and then fell to my knees. I was on Haîcze in a flash, bracing myself on my strong arms. Muscles rippled. Her eyes stared up at me with a lust I'd never seen in a woman. A true desire for me. Something that couldn't be faked.
She grabbed my cock and stroked me. “Just sheath that mighty blade in me, Marcus.”
“Gladly,” I groaned and lowered myself.
I pressed my cock into her hot flesh. Her lithe, blue thighs wrapped around my legs. She gripped me, a large smile spreading over her lips. I rubbed my cock up and down her, gathering up all the wonderful juices coating her.
She trembled, her eyes wild. Then she gasped as I rammed into her. I sank into her pussy. Her hot flesh engulfed me and... Something swirled around in her. A light breeze caressed my cock along with her hot flesh.
“Damn,” I groaned.
She winked at me.
I leaned down and kissed her. I let her taste her cunt juices as I bottomed out in her. My larger dick filled her. She felt so tight about me. And that pussy sucked at me. It was so incredible to enjoy. I groaned into her mouth, her pussy squeezing and clenching about me.
I slid my right hand up her body, squeezing her small, perky breast. Firm. Youthful. What a delight to feel a tit in my grasp again. She groaned and the wind gusting through her pussy increased, almost sucking at me.
Her thighs wrapped tight around my legs. I didn't even have to fuck her. I could just stay still and let her windy cunt do all the work.
But what type of man would that make me?
I drew back my hips and slammed into her. I buried deep and hard. She gasped and groaned, kissing me with hunger. Her tongue swirled through my mouth. Her lips almost sucked at me. She held me tight.
I squeezed her hips as I buried into her gusty cunt again and again. I rammed into her over and over, reveling in the feel of her. The delight of her delicious twat. She felt incredible about me. She sucked at me.
Literally.
I felt the winds pulling at my cock as I drew back. I groaned, my balls tightening. I ached to fire my seed into her fertile cunt. To have my first child. I plowed into her. Fucked her. My dick churned her up while her pussy massaged me.
I broke the kiss. “Damn!” I grunted, squeezing her tit. “Your cunt is amazing.”
“So is your cock, mighty Marcus!” Her body quivered. “Oh, yes, yes! Stir up my cunt! Give me another orgasm.”
I winked at her.
Haîcze laughed in delight. She nuzzled her nose against mine, her white hair dancing. She kissed me again. She felt delicious about my cock. Her windy pussy swirled faster around my dick. Such a delight to enjoy. I groaned, coming closer and closer to erupting.
Then she moaned. Her pussy gusted. Her flesh writhed while a cyclone howled around inside of her. The vortex sucked at my
shaft. I gasped, drawn to the hilt in her. I groaned into the kiss, my balls aching as I experienced a delight no man ever had.
I broke the kiss and howled, “Holy shit!”
I erupted.
“Yes, yes, make a changeling in me!” she howled as my cum fired into her.
Hot spurts of jizz pumped into her flesh. I groaned, my eyes shooting wide. Stars danced before me. The jizz rushed out of my balls. Sucked out by the tornado cunt spasming around me. I groaned and bucked, rubbing my chest into her small breasts. She whimpered and moaned, her snatch drawing out more and more of my cum.
“Shit!”
“Oh, Marcus, knock her up!” Iris moaned. “So hot to watch!”
“So hot to feel!” I groaned, my body trembling atop the Sylph.
Haîcze clung to me. She held me tight as my cum pumped over and over into her snatch. That wonderful pleasure swept through me. I groaned as it hit that amazing peak. I fired that last blast into her windy pussy.
“Mighty, Marcus, yes!”
Chapter Four: Trapped in Slime
I rolled off of Haîcze, gasping and panting.
“Damn, that was incredible,” I groaned. This game was amazing. I don't know—don't care—how I ended up here. That was worth the pain I suffered. The danger.
That was a reward for a quest.
Haîcze giggled. She didn't so much as stand as float up to her feet. She then swayed away, my cum spilling down her thighs, pearly white against her blue flesh. She went to some discarded gear and picked up a cloud-white thong made of cloth. She stepped into it and pulled it up her legs, bending over and flashing that jizz-stained twat at me.
Then she pulled the thong up and into her butt-crack. She settled it properly, wiggling her hips and showing off that ass. It was gorgeous. Her small breasts quivered as she picked up a matching top, a pair of small triangles and thin ties that she bound behind her neck and in the middle of her back. She adjusted her tits to fit in it.
It offered no protection whatsoever. The only other item she put on was a matching, white belt festooned with pouches. She wrapped it around her waist and buckled it before bending down and picking up a javelin. She slid it down her back, somehow the ties of her bikini top holding it in place.
“Mmm, here,” she said and opened her pouch. She pulled out a crystal shard. It looked a pale blue, almost misty, like a sky seen through the last moments of fog before the morning sun burned it away. “A shard for you, Shardhunter.”
She tossed it at me.
I sat up and caught it. I felt the small crystal pulse and gust with possibility. Adventure. “Thanks,” I said, arching an eyebrow. “You leaving?”
“This place is too dangerous for me.” She paused, hip cocking. “Though, I might come back after you finish clearing it. Poke around, see what you missed. Or maybe you'll find me at your camp waiting for you. If you'll have me.”
I smiled at her saucy tone. “I'll have you.”
I shuddered as I felt something shift between us. She whimpered and then nodded before she sauntered back towards the entrance, the side-quest sauntering towards the entrance, finished in the dungeon.
But she'd be waiting for me at my camp.
“You got the first member of your harem!” cheered Iris. “Five more slots available.”
I grinned, liking the idea of recruiting support NPCs to my camp. Women in my harem.
I thrust the Shard into my own pouch, feeling it vanish into its extradimensional space. I drew on my clothing and armor. I picked up a discarded shield. I felt amazing. I had gained a level. I had so much ass-whupping I could unleash now. I just had to go out there and—
“Wait, wait!” Iris said as I marched for the exit. “Don't you feel the chance to upgrade?” She zipped in front of me. “Huh, don't you?”
I frowned at her. I focused on my martial abilities and... There was something about both Yell and Hard Strike. Something... malleable. I could make Yell last longer, have a quicker recharge, or boost how much it buffed me. With Hard Strike, I could reduce the toll it took on my martial reserve or increase the amount of damage it did.
I went with that. I felt the knowledge of how to hit even harder. It would take a bit more to unleash, but I had a bit more martial power to spend. I nodded, liking this system. It let old abilities stay relevant longer.
“Well, Iris? Shall we find more sexy women to rescue?”
“Mmm, just promise to fuck them as hard as Haîcze,” she moaned, this dreamy look in her eyes. “I came five times watching you two. Five!”
I winked at her.
The door exiting the large room led to a corridor that was a mess. Walls had buckled. The ceiling had collapsed in areas, forcing me to squeeze through tight gaps in the rubble. And then the boundary changed. It was like part of the building had collapsed because I found a wall bisecting the hallway. One opened onto a room that could have been a bedroom, based on the smashed wood and the moldering remains of cloth. The other was a corridor. A little larger, a moldy carpet that might have once been pink running down it. I squeezed through into the hallway.
The roof was missing here. Chunks of it lay on the ground before me. The forest grew overhead. Vines reached in. Puddles of stagnant water beaded in the corners. I marched on, using my ax to hack through the vines that draped down from gaps in the ceiling. At the end of it, I found stairs leading down and the hallway ending abruptly against the thick foliage of the forest.
So dense, I'd need to be a lumberjack to chop my way through the trees.
I went down.
The stairs spiraled. Water at one point had run down the middle, carving a gutter into the stone runners. It grew dark again, but I had Iris to light the way. She glowed as she bobbed beside me, shedding light. I reached the floor below. The stairs used to go farther, but they had collapsed.
I stepped out and found another one of the red-skinned orcs. I hacked through him with ease, needing only a Yell. In the surrounding rooms, the walls as crumbling as elsewhere, I found a few more of the orcs lounging or napping. I fell on them, dispatching the lower-level foes with ease. I only took one hit.
It hurt even through my armor, pain bursting through me. But I was a mighty fighter. So I pressed on.
My experience total slowly climbed as I worked my way through the squatting orcs who'd taken over this area like a makeshift barracks. It grew wetter. The walls ran with water for twenty feet. Fuzzy moss grew in green streaks, following the mortar. An earthy smell filled my nose.
Beyond, I found more of the cultists. They were isolated. Muttering their prayers to makeshift altars of crumbled stones and broken furniture. I took another cut fighting them but put down three of the bastards. The pain burned across my cheek as I moved on.
“Damn, why do they have to have DOTs,” I muttered.
“Probably because they don't clean those knives,” said Iris. “All manner of nasty things festering on them.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, my mood growing foul. The pain made my eyelid twitch until it finally, mercifully, stopped.
I rounded the corner and grinned as I came across another one of those cultists. He had his head lowered in prayer. Unlike the others, a faint bit of smoke curled out from beneath his ragged robes. I caught a glimpse of dark-red leather boots peeking out.
That gave me pause. But he was alone. His muttering echoed through the hallway, a mad derange that crackled from a rasping voice. He rocked back and forth, his muttering rising and falling with his swaying motion.
I rushed forward, ax raised.
I didn't see the alarm I triggered. I struck something with my boot, a thin cord. It jerked and snapped, ringing a bell. The cultist whirled around in a blur of motion. He snarled and then flames burst up his body, raging beneath his robes. They wreathed his hands. His dagger. He gave an exultant shout and lunged at me.
I blocked with my shield. A burst of flames spilled over the top, sparks spraying across the rim into my face and delivering stinging pain. A few
Hit Points of damage. I grimaced and Yelled my way out, my ax flying down and slamming into his chest, delivering a hard blow of damage.
“Marcus!” squeaked Iris. She danced around my head, light flashing as I recovered for my next attack. “Look out!”
“I got this!” I growled and slashed in at the cultist reeling from my blow. My ax hit him.
As a pair of cultists lunged in from the dark rooms on either side of me.
Before I could react, two blades jammed through links in my armor and stabbed into my side. Two festering wounds blazed through my flesh. My teeth ground together as I whirled to face them, ax slashing, delivering a Hard Strike.
I took one cultist's head off. A crit. His body staggered into the other then collapsed, spasming. The other hissed at me and then slashed wildly with his knife. I caught the first and second blows on my shield, iron scraping against wood. I delivered a Hard Strike as he cut me, leaving a deep scratch down my arm.
“Mother fucker!” I snarled as my blow killed him.
I slammed my boot down. I snorted through my nose and kicked the body. These DOTs hurt. Three burned across my body, sapping my Hit Points. But I had more now. I leaned against the wall and panted.
“Ooh, ooh, look at this,” said Iris, descending down to hover over the downed cultist. “Those must be rare. Flamedust boots. Once a day, they will wreathe you in flames and deal extra fire damage to your enemies.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, my face smarting. “I noticed.”
Looting in this world wasn't like a video game. No right-clicking on a corpse and selecting it from a table. No auto-loot option. I had to bend down, unlace the boots, and pull them off. They smoked from the soles, a faint heat wreathing around them. I undid my own and to my delight, they fit my feet.
I swear they grew larger.
Donned, I could feel them lurking in my mind. The ability to activate them if in need. I gathered some coins from the cultists' pockets. I considered my HP. I had a pair of healing potions, but my Hit Points were still high enough.
I didn't need to top myself off.
I pressed on and the hallway hit a branch. I looked right, left. I heard a faint sound. Was that a scream? It echoed. Curious, I headed down towards it, wondering what I would find in the dungeon next. Maybe a chance to be a hero again?