The Missing Dragon Ch. 05

It happened when they both didn't quite expect it to, as Gregory was shifting and she was once again sliding her pussy down along the underside of his length. He felt the swollen head of his cock part the silky lower lips and made a thrust on pure instinct. The push inside made her break their kiss to let out a loud gasp, and he watched her eyes close as a dreamy expression crossed her features. Knowing it was all for him, he waited until the beautiful woman finally began to sink down upon the remaining few inches of his cock until he was fully embedded inside her tight sheath.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked down upon him, the sky blue colour brightened considerably with pleasure. Lifting herself upright once again, she squirmed her hips to better accommodate his considerable size inside her. Those little movements eventually settled into a slow grind that swirled him about in her hot, wet depths.

Knowing that the display was involving a little bit of showing off, Gregory was content to rest his hands on her thighs and watch. Noticing that she had an enthralled audience, she raised her arms up above her head and continued to weave her body back and forth whilst impaled upon him. Her breasts lifted upon her chest and she casually shifted her arms over her in a deeply erotic dance that showcased her gorgeous, slim figure.

The afternoon sun set her pale skin alive with a warm orange and red glow. It caught the silvery strands of her hair to make it gleam like a halo, streaming its light down over her shoulders.

Just as before, the display excited her almost as much as him. She loved the way his eyes burned for her like twin blazes of raw lust and brazen desire. It made her move too quickly in her excitement to give him more, and she almost lost him from her inner folds. He caught the movement at the last moment, and tightened his grip on her thighs to steady her whilst lifting his own body to push himself back into her welcoming heat. She showed her gratitude for his initiative by lowering her hands to press upon his chest so that she could steady herself whilst riding him. Her body then began to lift up onto her knees before falling back down on him with steady, smooth strokes.

He soon began assisting her movements with his own, shifting his hips to meet her every time her pussy came down to clench around the base of his length. All the while, she looked directly into his eyes. For his part, he couldn't meet her gaze for long, for the sight of the beautiful woman riding him was far too appealing. The way her breasts bounced lightly each time she rose and fell upon him, or the way her lower lips clung to his member each time she lifted herself as if they didn't want to let him go. That wasn't even considering how good the oil made her body look, and how thoroughly sexy she looked with her graceful, rocking movements.

She loved watching him watch her, and as the excitement crackled through her like electricity, she began moving faster and faster. One hand remained planted firmly upon his chest, but the other shifted down between her legs to tease her own clit. He felt her fingertips rapidly moving over the little nerve-packed bud, as they also lightly tickled his cock as it plunged inside her over and over again.

He restrained his instinct to grab her and roll her over onto her back to take the matter of those thrusts into his own hands. She looked too damned good to spoil her moment, and her eyes had already glazed over with pleasure to the point he knew she would soon fall to another orgasm. It built within her, and he saw the signs of it when she closed her eyes and her lips parted to pant out his name. Her body began to shiver as the first little shocks ran out through her, and she rubbed her clit faster. The sound of his name turned into a long, hoarse moan when the great explosion finally took place.

Sitting upright, he lifted his arms to catch her within his embrace and held her to him whilst she continued bouncing in his lap with any restraint cast to the winds. The lady had come apart entirely, and seeing her shatter into a blissful state of quivering ecstasy was a truly wondrous sight to behold. The convulsions inside her snug pussy were more than enough to send him careening into his own orgasm soon enough.

Her body slammed down upon his one final time as she continued to writhe upon him whilst embedding every inch of him inside her. The feel of his cum pulsing deep into her body pushed her back over the edge into another blissful wave. After all that teasing, his release was no small matter, and she felt herself being filled with his seed. It felt as if he were making her whole once again, and since she had stopped moving so wildly in his lap she took the opportunity to kiss him deeply. Her arms wrapped about his shoulders as his encircled her waist and they both licked at each other's tongues and sucked at their lips.

With their descent came the dawning realisation that they had crossed a point of no return. They had shared something too deep, and too powerful. It would likely affect them for the rest of their lives, and each had taken at least a small portion of the other for themselves. It worried Valise. She was no longer quite so blinded by lust, and she hadn't meant to take things so far with him. The kiss was momentarily broken. Their eyes opened to look upon each other, as if the depths of the ocean were meeting the heights of the sky.

He smiled at her. She found herself smiling back, and finally decided that sharing themselves with each other was definitely not so bad. He kissed her, and they fell back down together to enjoy the moment, as well as quite a few more moments thereafter.

- - - - -

Later that evening a shadow passed over Valise's tent. This went largely unnoticed by the owner, who was settled upon her hands and knees whilst Gregory passionately filled her pussy from behind. The shadow paused a moment to form the outline of Talina who was passing by on her way out into the encampment.

In all her years working beside Valise in the encampment, she'd never even considered that the blonde woman could have been anything but the personification of grace and serenity. It seemed as if Gregory was in the midst of proving her quite wrong on that account. He definitely brought out the animal in Valise, and the low and steady feminine groans and growls coming from within served to highlight just how far her friend had fallen. Then again, Talina was quite certain that beyond the occasional kind smile she'd never witnessed Valise actually enjoying herself since they'd first met.

Her hand retreated beneath the black cloak she was garbed in, and pushed aside the material of her undergarments to tease her fingers along the folds of her own sex. Gods, that man could fuck! Perhaps she could slip beneath the canopy and ask if they'd like some company? No. Alas. Torren was all hers now and she was all his. That kind of ownership came with certain responsibilities. When she returned, she would wake up her bulky blacksmith and take out her frustrations on him. After all, he had responsibilities too.

With a sly smile settled on her lips, she lifted her hand to lick across her slippery fingertips and stepped on past the lovers' tent to make her way out into the encampment. Her hood was pulled up over her head, and she quietly disappeared into almost nothing.

Disappearing was almost second nature to her. It wasn't that she could become invisible, but she was highly skilled in avoiding unwanted attention. Tonight she didn't want any attention, and by now she knew the camp well enough to stay out of sight with ease.

A passing shadow in the night.

It didn't take her long to find her destination, for over the course of the past few nights she had taken to keeping her eyes on The Berserkers' alpha. His name was Rolk, and of a war pack comprised almost entirely of hulking brutes, she'd already seen that he was by far the hulkiest and the brutiest. He certainly wasn't that difficult to find, and tended to march around the camp with the rest of his pack as if he owned the place. Orcs being what they were, it didn't take much of that sort of attitude before The Berserkers were brawling with some poor bystander. Many of those who challenged Rolk for his attitude soon discovered that the alpha wasn't exactly versed in the concepts of honour and fairness. The rest of his pack would often cheat to help him if any other soul offered him a challenge, and as a result Rolk had already amassed a small fortune in the spoils of those challenges.

Talina's initial interest in him had been mostly for Gregory's benefit. If her master was to pass the provings then he would need to overcome Rolk and The Berserkers. She'd started observing them in order to find out if they had any notable weaknesses. Unfortunately, there was a reason Rolk's pack was the most prominent on the proving grounds. Chinks in their armour were few and far between. They tended to stomp over their enemies with a devastating and almost clinically efficient charge, and they'd gotten disturbingly good at it.

In studying the great brute, she'd accidentally stumbled across her new favourite pastime of ruining his day. Her attempts to uncover the plotters who had freed the mad boy and caused her master so much trouble had come up frustratingly short. So, after she'd spent time following her few leads to dead ends she often sought out Rolk to see how she might best unravel whatever he had planned.

True to form, she found him behind an array of tents with his pack in the process of kicking around another of the few merchants to be found amongst the orcs. As a vassal of Bolut, she recognised the merchant immediately. He was a middle aged orc named Perolf, who had never passed the provings due to his habit of remaining painfully thin and deeply uncoordinated. He had come to visit Bolut's camp once or twice, and Lydia had even danced for him. Talina found it remarkable to watch him walk, for it seemed as if his limbs moved almost completely independently of each other. This generally resulted in him falling over and hitting his head on things quite a bit.

It seemed like his head was now bouncing off The Berserker's fists quite a bit, so it was probably fortunate that it had endured some practice beforehand. She slipped into a comfortable spot where the shadows of two tents folded over each other and watched.

"Come, Perolf the Unproven!" Rolk yelled. "How can you even call yourself an orc? Better to take my challenge, and the beating that'll follow."

Perolf stumbled to send those long limbs of his clattering toward the dirt. He spat some of it from his mouth before looking back up at Rolk.

"I am not to be challenged, on the orders of the warchief himself." Perolf growled in outrage. "I am unproven, as are you, Rolk. We cannot give challenge to anyone."

"No? But we can take them up if we have a sliver of honour! Are you so weak that you hide behind your pathetic title. You are well past age when you should be proven, gold lover. I see it as fair for you to challenge me, and none of us are forbidden from playing. So, will you give me a challenge today? Or do my friends here need to play with you some more?"

Talina saw the look in Perolf's eyes, and realised that the poor orc was very close to taking up that challenge. He might have been barely able to match the weight of Rolk's club, but he was an orc. All orcs have a spirit of battle within them; even if it would be grossly unwise to accept it.

She moved out from her hiding spot with silent haste to get away from the challenge that would surely be forthcoming soon enough. There was something missing from the usual equation back there. Perolf might have had all the combat skill of a wooden spoon, but his brother Dregolf was another matter entirely. Not only had he passed the provings with flying colours, but Dregolf had actually served in the north in fighting against the scourge. In fact, he'd been up there and back again five times since his own proving, and she couldn't name many who came back from that place more than once.

So where the bloody hell was he now? Dregolf always looked out for his little brother. They weren't usually seen without each other for long. She scanned the surrounding tents and quickly came upon the explanation. Outside of one of the ale tents, there sat Dregolf with a particularly lovely young female orc settled in his lap who just happened to also be a member of The Berserkers. Ishka.

Suddenly it wasn't so difficult to see why the veteran warrior was so distracted just at that moment.

She rolled her eyes and formed a plan of approach. It didn't take her long to head over to the brewer and order two tankards of redroot mead. This happened to be a particularly viscous drink that was vaguely pinkish in colour whilst smelling of damp soil. It wasn't exactly a recreational drink, and used more for its medicinal purposes in freeing up the bowels and supposedly increasing the density of one's beard. Never the less, its oily consistency suited her purposes just fine.

After taking a deep breath, she let her cloak spill to the ground and left it there to walk back along the way toward where Dregolf was being asked to inspect the lining of Ishka's particularly flimsy top.

"Oh no!" Talina yelled; flinging the tankards in the air and waiting for one to cover her and the annoying distraction that was her mark.

"What in all the damned dark realms!?" Ishka cried out; trying to scoop the goopy substance from her eyes.

"Oh gosh! I'm so very sorry!" Talina feigned utter horror at her actions. She'd handily ensured that the drink she'd spilled over herself had landed across her shoulder to spill down her body rather than letting it land on her head. Ishka had not been so fortunate.

Without waiting for an invitation, she lunged forward to "help" Ishka by running her hands across her body and ensuring every bit of her flimsy garment was covered in the thick liquid.

"Don't worry! I'll help you get this off in no time at all!" she offered whilst smoothly dodging a punch aimed vaguely in her direction from the half-blind orc female.

Strangely enough, not a lot of the drink had landed on Dregolf. Instead he now found himself watching two very attractive women practically have an oil wrestling match in his lap. Talina's little silver bikini did very little to hide the allure of her body covered in that shiny, slick fluid. He was concentrating so much on the way Talina's modest breasts bounced in their tiny confines before mushing up against the orc's larger green globes. As a matter of fact, he was concentrating so hard on the sight that he completely missed Talina swing her elbow out to clash against her slicked-up opponent's right temple.

The blow came so hard that the orc was knocked completely out of his lap to land in a heap on the floor. With part one of her plan completed, Talina then gasped in feigned terror as she looked upon him.

"Dregolf! Oh no! I'm so terribly sorry, sir! I've made such a mess, haven't I?" She ran her hand mournfully up along the gorgeous, slender curve of her body. Then she bent over to place her hand in his lap where a bit of the mead had dribbled off her now barely-conscious opponent and onto him. "Here, let me clean it up for you."

She reached out, knowing full well that his trunks were just about ready to burst with the lump they were restraining. So her hands lowering to massage the mead into his inner thigh and across his lower belly successfully brought all his attention to her.

"Is that better, sir?" she asked as meekly and eagerly as she could. "This stuff is so awfully difficult to clean off... unless..."

"Arglnuph?" In his defence, Dregolf could normally speak in full utterances, but he found that his mind just wasn't quite up to it right then for some reason.

"Well," Talina went on in a conspiratorial tone, "I have heard that saliva is likely the best way to stop this from staining. If you'd grant me the honour, sir. I'd be happy to take you over there behind those tents and do everything my tongue can to clean up your crotch."

That did it, alright. She found herself immediately hoisted up over Dregolf's shoulder and enjoying the ride with a private little grin to herself. He ran between the clusters of tents as fast as his legs could carry him. Talina offered a cheerful wave to Ishka who was still lying in the dirt, covered in redroot mead, and looking bloody murder at her.

Soon enough they were flanked by the canvas of the tents. Dregolf eagerly pushed his way through the ropes keeping them in place to burst out amidst the scene of his little brother's beating. In that moment, Talina successfully wriggled her way free of his arm and slipped down from his shoulder into a graceful roll onto the dirt behind him. The big orc didn't seem to notice. His lust was erased in a moment of stunned silence before a dark and familiar rage brought his blood to the boil.

Rolk stood in the middle of the private little clearing, his hand clenching a tuft of Perolf's hair and holding him upright with it. It seemed like Perolf had finally taken Rolk up on the idea of laying down a challenge, and it wasn't going too well for him. His face was bloody, one of his eyes had swollen shut with the skin turning into a fierce red colour, and his right ankle was definitely not bending the way it was supposed to.

Watching Dregolf's reaction was something like watching a sped-up version of a kettle coming to the boil. At first he was very still, unable to quite believe his eyes at the scene before him. Then he began to visibly shake whilst his face contorted into a snarl of outrage. Finally, he cast his head back and smashed his fist against his chest before releasing a deafening roar of his own challenge toward the Berserker alpha.

Rolk spat on the barely conscious body of Perolf before letting him fall into the dirt.

"It is done. All that was his is now mine and I do not accept your challenge. A change is coming to this place soon, Dregolf." Rolk said with a startling lack of concern for the foaming-at-the-mouth warrior in his presence. "You would be unwise to take anything from your future warchief. The orcs will soon stand proud again, and dregs like this will be purged from our ranks. Bow to me now and-"

It seemed that Rolk hadn't quite read the situation correctly. Rather than cowering in fear, Dregolf had practically launched himself at his brother's attacker in a fiery rage. Rolk had also severely underestimated the vast chasm in skill between an unproven war-pack and a veteran of the northern war. When his pack members charged at Dregolf in an attempt to pin him down for Rolk, they found their charges came to a thundering halt with alarming speed. The senior warrior wasn't just faster and smarter than The Berserkers, but he was actually stronger. They weren't used to that at all.

He broke the jaw of the first one to tragically get ahead of his pack members and be the first to engage. A simple yet lightning fast sidestep put him at the wrong angle of the two that followed. He smashed them into each other and off balance with a lunge and a crash of his shoulder. After that, Rolk knew that the others wouldn't be able to get between him and Dregolf in time to be any help.

That was when the strongest orc of the proving grounds, and victor of so many challenges even before his time, turned and fled.

Unfortunately, he wasn't nearly fast enough. Soon after that, Talina pushed herself back into the folds of the tents out of the way. She saw the rest of Dregolf's war pack, veterans all, burst out of other gaps between the tents. They had recognised their alpha's war cry. From then, life for the Berserkers took a distinct and monumental turn for the worst.