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It’s awful. It’s torture. It’s unfair. It’s cruel and unusual punishment. It’s–
“An opportunity for you to control your libido,” Dakota drawls, and Tempest realizes with a start that she’s said every last bit of her frustration aloud.
She cuts her eyes at Dakota. “Easy for you to say. You’re not interested at all.”
“I am not,” Dakota agrees, and he bends over the glove he’s working on for Nym, focused on the tiny, tiny stitching. It looks so small in his hands, and given that Dakota’s the tallest, broadest member of the group, that’s no surprise. Fortunately, it’s common to see tsak around here, so no one’s given him shit.
Yet.
Tempest huffs and flops backwards on the bed, staring up at the slatted ceiling where someone hadn’t taken the time to seal all the seams so it creaks with every step on the upper floor. It makes her ears twitch, and no wonder her distant mouse-kin are so jumpy if they have to pay attention to every sound like this.
“They’re all just so… so…,” She throws her hands into the air and drops them onto the straw-stuffed mattress, “... gorgeous,” she finishes with a sigh.
“Truly, your life is terrible,” Dakota drawls.
“It is,” Tempest agrees. Why must she be surrounded by so many gorgeous people? They’re all so pretty and unique, and she wants to taste them all.
Running into Sinoun again had been pretty interesting, but he’d only had eyes for Tyrael, which was a disappointment. Tempest doesn’t think anyone else noticed, but she sure did. Poor Sinoun. No way is Tyrael going to look twice at him, but Easton? If Sinoun pays the slightest bit of attention, he might notice the way Easton can’t take his eyes off Sinoun’s ass.
Easton’s gorgeous, but Tempest already knows he has no interest in anyone of the womanly persuasion. He hasn’t glanced twice at Rathi, and she’s the prettiest pyrolin Tempest’s ever seen, but he’s made it a point to stay out of arm’s reach of Tyrael and Dakota, and when Dakota pushed him out of the way of an attack earlier, Tempest swears Easton blushed.
Tyrael isn’t on the menu either. Even if he wasn’t totally gay, his devotion to his boyfriend or fiance or partner or whatever Elias is, puts him firmly in the category of “nope.” Tempest is many things, but a homewrecker is not one of them. Well, knowingly anyway. It’s not her fault if sometimes the people she picks up in bars happen to be married and don’t share that information with her.
Still.
There’s no harm in looking, right? No harm at all. It’s like teasing herself a little. Or a lot, in this case, because that’s two pretties she has no chance of playing with.
Rathi on the other hand. Oh, she’s a guaranteed fun time.
They had their moment a few weeks ago, and Tempest hopes she can convince the pyrolin to have another one or two or five. She and Celeste are kind of dancing around each other right now as Celeste watches Rathi and pretends she doesn’t. Poor thing. Celeste hasn’t really figured out what she wants yet, but Tempest has an eye for that kind of thing. If she had to guess, Celeste is all about the ladies, and only the ladies.
Can’t really blame her for eying up Rathi either. Rathi is smoking hot, both literally and figuratively. It’s easy enough to convince Rathi to spar, and Rathi has no qualms about being handsy either, which means Tempest can be handsy, too. She bets Rathi tastes like hearthfire and peppers and all kinds of delicious things.
She really, really wants to get her mouth on Rathi’s cunt. Rathi would probably grab her hair and direct her. She seems the type. Not afraid to go after what she wants, delighted to give direction, happy to see people at her feet. That kind of thing. Tempest doesn’t really go either way herself. She’s about having fun, whatever shape that comes in. Fun and orgasms.
The best kind of life.
“Stop it.”
Tempest blinks. Dakota’s glaring at Nym’s glove like it’s offended him, but it’s also a distinctly furrowed look that’s usually meant for her. “Are you talking to me or the thread?”
Dakota glances at her. “You,” he grunts before he slides the needle through the worn leather with precise motions. “I can practically hear you fantasizing.”
“No, you can’t. It’s in my head,” Tempest protests. She squirms on the bed, however, because now there’s wet between her thighs, and she really, really wants to pinch her nipples.
Boundaries, though. She and Dakota had this discussion a long time ago. She doesn’t touch herself when he’s around, and he makes himself scarce when Tempest politely asks for some privacy to, ahem, take care of business.
“Your hand was inching toward your belt.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Tempest lies as she snatches her hand away and tucks both of them under her pillow. She stares harder at the ceiling. “It’s just hard, you know.”
“Hard,” Dakota echoes.
He has no sense of humor sometimes, missing a prime opportunity to make a dumb joke like that. Rathi wouldn’t have let it slide. Or Nym either. He seems like the type to have fun, too. Tempest doesn’t know him as well as the others since he’s only been part of their group for a couple of days, but he’s a wonderful spot of cheer compared to the majority of grump.
“They’re all so pretty.” Tempest pouts.
Easton and Rathi and Celeste. Ooo, Celeste. She’s all curves and dark, dark skin and Tempest wants to get her mouth on those enormous tits. She thinks a good suck and nip would make Celeste gasp and squirm. Tempest bets Celeste has zero experience, so everything will be a new sensation for her. And those thighs!
Fuck, Tempest wants to feel those thighs around her hips. She’s got a good beginner rod in her pack, and a new harness that deserves to be broken in properly.
She bets Celeste squirts. Can’t really explain why, but something tells her when Celeste really lets go, she’s gonna make a huge mess.
Something hits the side of her face and clings there.
Tempest frowns and plucks fabric from her cheek, the smell of machinery and chemicals a sharp tang in her nose. Oh, it’s Nym’s glove. Looks like Dakota’s done with it.
“Why did you throw this at me?”
“So you can take it to him and give me some peace,” Dakota says with a sigh. He rakes his hand through his hair, and now that she’s looking, he seems tired.
He hasn’t been sleeping well lately, which isn’t saying much for Dakota, who clocks maybe four hours a night. But it’s been worse. Nightmares, probably, but he’s being stingy on the details. He looks like he needs a nap or three.
Tempest sits up and swings her legs over the edge of the bed. “Think I’ll stay out tonight,” she says as she hops down and adjusts her clothing, trying to give herself some semblance of order. “Don’t wait up.”
“I’m not kicking you out,” Dakota grumbles, and now he looks guilty, his shoulders slumping and his lower lip dangerously close to a pout.
Tempest shoves the glove into her pocket and plants her hands on her hips. “I know that. I’m horny, Dakota. Sheesh.” Which isn’t even a lie. She’s been thinking about their travel companions and now she’s got an itch she needs to scratch.
Maybe Rathi’s still drinking downstairs and will be up for some fun? Tempest’s not in a mood for taking dick tonight. Not unless she’s the one wielding it. But eating out a pretty cunt or burying her face in a nice pair of tits sounds like the perfect late-night treat.
Just in case she gets lucky, she digs out the small bag with all of her accessories and throws it over her shoulder.
Dakota makes an exasperated noise and packs away his sewing supplies, fingers lingering on the carry pouch where he keeps it. He’s exceedingly careful with it, and Tempest suspects it’s one of the last things he has of his brother. A gift probably.
“Fair enough. That’s all I need to know.” He gives her a look. “Be careful.”
“Aren’t I always?” Tempest pulls open the door, adjusts her belt, and adds, “Don’t start worrying unless I’m not back for breakfast.”
Dakota sighs.
Tempest pauses and looks back at Dakota, moving with aching slowness like he’s preparing for bed and the whole world is on his shoulders, despite the fact he’s barely thirty. He has a pinched look around his grey eyes, and his skin seems more gray-blue than soft blue. His messy black hair looks more tousled than usual, and in desperate need of a trim.
Still.
He’s handsome. If Tempest didn’t think of Dakota like another brother, someone she has to protect, and if Dakota actually liked sexual intimacy at all, she would have eagerly fallen into bed with him. But their relationship isn’t like that.
“What?” Dakota scowls.
He noticed her staring. Oops.
“Nothing,” Tempest sings and raps her fingers on the door. “Just, you know, when I say that they’re all pretty, I’m talking about you, too.”
He flushes purple, and immediately scowls harder. “Go get laid, Tempest. You’ve lost your mind.” But the high spots of color remain in his cheeks.
She laughs and closes the door behind her, skipping down the hall to the common room. Thank the gods she and Dakota have a room nearest the main hall because this inn is a sprawling collection of corridors. It’s as if the owners kept expanding, but decided no one likes stairs, so they added on more and more rooms wherever a wall would fit one, all off the main floor. It’s a fucking maze.
Music floats to her ears from the common room, however, along with the good smells leftover from supper, so it’s not hard to find at least. Tempest bounds into the large room and surveys the interior. Many of the folks from earlier have gone home or retired to their rooms for the evening. A bard quietly strums a soothing melody on the stage. Half the tables are empty.
She doesn’t see Rathi anywhere, but she spies Nym at one of the tables, several empty mugs pushed to the side and a book spread out in front of him. He’s scribbling, forehead furrowed with conversation.
Tempest throws herself into the other empty chair, jostling the table itself. “Busy?”
“Not particularly,” Nym says. He’s still staring at that book however, head tilted, pearl-like horns catching in the light and sparkling. She’s bedded quite a few gemlings before, and nearly all of them are sensitive at the base of their horns. She wonders if Nym is, too.
“Good. I’d hate to interrupt.” Tempest lays the glove right over the open page. “All patched up, courtesy of Dakota.”
“Oh!” Nym’s face brightens. He sets his quill aside. “Marvelous. Pass him my thanks, if you will, though I’ll be sure to tell him myself tomorrow.”
Tempest waves him off. “Don’t say it too much. You’ll just embarrass him.” She drums her fingers on the table and scans the room again. “Have you seen Rathi?”
“She and Celeste went to bed already.” Nym slides the glove on and flexes his fingers happily. “Ahh. It’s perfect.” He peers at the glove. “His stitching is immaculate.”
Gone already?
Tempest slumps into her chair. “Damn. I was hoping to see if she was up for a little fun, if you know what I mean.”
Nym chuckles and picks up his quill again. “Yes, I catch your meaning just fine. I do not blame you. Rathi is quite lovely, though I admit, so are every one of you.”
“Yeah.” Tempest props her chin on the heel of her hand and surveys the tavern interior.
It’s a slow night, and there aren’t many patrons to choose from. Even the servers have taken up a post at the end of the counter to chat with each other. The bard still quietly strums his lute, but it’s an absent motion, like he’s waiting for his shift to be up. The few remaining patrons seem to be locals, tired and lost in their cups.
“Ugggh,” Tempest groans as she slumps down further, resting her cheek on the table. “I’m so horny, and there’s no one here.”
Nym tickles her nose with the feathered end of his quill. “You have two hands, and I’m sure there are other accessories in your pack. You could take care of it yourself.”
Tempest scrunches up her nose and puffs air against the feather to push it away. “That’s only partly satisfying.” Plus, she wants to have a partner or two this time. She wants that bump and grind, the smoosh of sweaty bodies, and someone to kiss. Her mouth is lonely.
“You’d rather a partner?” Nym tickles her nose again with a little laugh. “What kind?”
“A fun one,” Tempest says. That’s pretty much her only requirement. She likes all kinds of shapes and sizes and genders and everything. She just wants to have fun.
Nym brushes the feather over her lips. “I can be fun,” he says with a little smile as he looks at her. His eyes are such a beautiful shade of rich brown. Like chocolate.
“Yeah, but I wanted to be the one doing the fucking tonight,” Tempest sighs, slumping further in her chair, boneless and defeated. She doesn’t want to lay back and take it.
The feather tickles her ear. “Who says I wouldn’t enjoy that?”
Tempest lifts her head and gives Nym a once-over. He’s definitely pretty, and Tempest has been very curious what it’d be like to touch him. His horns look so shiny and smooth, and he’s got a tail, even if it is different from hers. He’s a bit scruffy, but she can look past that. He also smells really good, like a weird mix of alchemical stuff and candy. Probably because he’s always nibbling on some of those hard candies.
“Can I pull your hair?” she asks.
Nym lightly drags his fingers through his brown waves, fluffing up the messy strands. “Certainly.”
Tempest straightens with a grin, excitement peppering beneath her skin. “What about your tail?”
His tongue flicks over his lips, wetting them, drawing her attention. They’re a bit pink, she notices. How come she never realized he wears stain? It suits him.
Nym leans in, playing the tip of the quill across her cheeks. “Can I eat you out first?”
A shiver ripples down her spine and pools in her groin. Tempest snatches the quill from his fingers and plays the feather across her collarbone. “Only if I can sit on your face while you do.”
Nym smiles wide, showing off his prominent eye-teeth. “Deal,” he chirps and offers her his free hand, wriggling his fingers invitingly.
Tempest clasps her hands as they shake on it. “Dakota’s in my room. What about yours?”
“Easton’s there, but I’m sure I can evict him.” Nym rubs his thumb over the back of her hand.
“Send him to the other bed in mine and Dakota’s room.” Tempest giggles. “They’ll ignore each other all night.”
Nym pulls her hand closer to his mouth, exhaling warm and wet across her fingertips. “An excellent plan.” He nips the tip of her index finger. “Now, I have several toys of my own, but if you’d prefer to use one of yours…?”
“No way!” Tempest plays the quill over the tip of Nym’s nose. “I know all about mine. I wanna see what kind of toys you have.”
“Fair enough.” Nym releases her hand. “Shall we?” He gathers his belongings, shoving them in his pack without any sense of organization.
Tempest tosses him his quill and leaps out of her chair. “Absolutely.”
She gives Nym another considering look. He’s taller than her, like everyone else in their group, and he’s not all weak-looking like other arcanists she’s met. He’s got some broad shoulders, and nice, thick thighs. Also, he’s got a fantastic ass. She’s looking forward to fucking it.
They return upstairs, Nym pulling out his key with a little hum, swirling the rusty ring around his finger. She can’t stop watching his tail, which must be less prehensile than hers, because it drapes down rather than tucking itself safely out of the way. He probably can’t wrap it around things like she can. Plus, it’s got a fin, or something like a fin, that runs from the base all the way to the blunt tip.
“Is there anything you should like me to avoid, my dear?” Nym asks as he takes a sharp right and keeps going. Oh, they gave him one of the further rooms.
Good. Less people to hear him scream.
“Your dick in me,” Tempest says. “If you have one, I mean. I don’t want it right now.”
Nym slants her a smile that makes heat coil in her gut. “I have many for your use as this is your show. I put myself in your capable hands.”
Tempest rubs her hands together. “You have no idea how much I like hearing that.” She eyes him again. “What about you? Something you don’t like?”
He tilts his head, giving the question genuine thought, which Tempest appreciates. “I am not a fan of degrading language for myself, otherwise, feel free to touch to your heart’s content.” He pauses in front of a door, key in the lock. “Use those muscles of yours, if you please. I’m very fond of them.”
Tempest flexes her dominant arm, tapping her bicep with her other hand. “I promise not to break anything.”
“Except the bed?”
“Well, that one might be a casualty.”
Nym laughs, and Tempest adores his laugh. It’s so carefree. There’s something genuine about the way Nym laughs. No one else in the group laughs like he does.
He pushes open the door, gesturing her in ahead of him. “I welcome the challenge.”
Tempest strides inside, immediately looking for Easton, but the room is otherwise empty. Disappointing. She’d hoped to catch a glimpse of him in his nightclothes. Maybe even shirtless.
Alas.
“Looks like he’s out for the night,” Tempest says as she drops her small bag on the nearest bed.
“Indeed.” Nym produces a ribbon from one of his pockets and ties it around the exterior door handle. “There. That should serve as warning.” He locks the door, though Easton having the key means he can still let himself inside.
Tempest pulls off her boots, dropping them carelessly to the floor. “And if he gets an eyeful, it’s his own fault.” She tugs off her shirt, tossing it to the side.
“A little exhibitionism never hurts anyone,” Nym agrees with a sage nod, but his eyes are hungry as they look over her bare torso and linger on her tits. “Straight to business, I see.”
Tempest tugs the ties to her leggings so she can shimmy out of them, pushing off her socks at the same time. “I mean, it’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?”
“You are a marvel,” Nym says, and from him, it sounds like a genuine compliment rather than exasperation. He drops his bag on the other bed and sits. “May I touch you?”
“That’s the idea,” Tempest laughs and pushes herself between his thighs, the contrast of her being nude and him fully dressed giving her a delicious thrill.
Nym pulls off his recently repaired gloves and sets them aside, his bare hands cupping her tits, small as they are. She shivers as he thumbs her nipples, his calluses a light drag against the sensitive flesh.
“A perfect handful,” he says.
Tempest hums and starts tugging at the complicated contraption of belts and buckles that is Nym’s fancy armor and shirt. “What even is all this?”
“An invention.” Nym lets go of her tits, which is unfortunate, but since he’s using it to get naked, she’s not going to complain too much. “Allow me.”
Ah, sacrifices.
Tempest gives up on the shirt and tackles his pants instead. These are much simpler – two quick flicks and the belt is gone, a deft tug and his ties are untied, and a little slip of her hand before – Nym sucks in a breath as she gets her hand around his dick, still mostly soft, but firming quickly as she gives him a squeeze.
He breathes a delighted sigh as he manages to shrug out of his shirt and half-coat, tossing both to the side. “You are bold.”
“Yup,” Tempest chirps and gives him another squeeze. She still doesn’t want to get fucked tonight, but maybe in the future? Oh, she thinks she might like to see what Nym can do with this. “You have a nice dick.”
It’s pretty basic, as far as gemling dicks go. Tempest’s been with gemlings before and their dicks have a nice shape, more conical at the end than round, a cute line of ridges along the length, which varies from gemling to gemling, and Nym’s is quite nice – thick and wet, with a secondary band of ridges around the head. He’s not even fully hard, and he’s already leaking.
Nym pauses in the middle of removing his one-lens goggles. “You know, I think you’re the first person to ever compliment my genitals.”
Tempest laughs and slips her hand a little further to cup his balls, just to see another one of those pretty shivers. “People should be more complimentary of their sexual partners,” she says in a sage tone.
His pants are in the way though, so she gets a grip on the hem and starts to tug down. He lifts his ass off the bed to help her, and she realizes all too late that there’s a problem.
“You’re still wearing your boots,” she complains. And they’re way more complicated than hers. Far too many ties keeping them firmly in place. He can’t just push them off.
Nym chuckles. “If you’ll give me but a moment, I can remove them.” He tilts his head toward an overflowing pack at the end of the bed. “Search for the velvet pouch and take a look at my accessories if you like.”
“Ooo.” Tempest lets Nym tend to the complicated mess she’s made of his clothes and dives toward the pack, rummaging around before she manages to find the velvet pouch.
All sorts of items clink around inside, so she sits back on her heels and pulls them out, one by one, eyes widening at the assortment. False dicks carved from wood, smooth to the touch and polished to a shine. A dick made of copper, also polished, with little ridges in a crown around the head. Some kind of plush insertable made of sheepskin that’s been stretched and softened over time. A larger wood dick with a thick knob around the end. Several plugs for both the ass and the cunt.
Tempest whistled appreciatively. “I’m jealous,” she says as a particularly thick toy tumbles into her hand, too big around for her to close her fingers. Her cunt clenches at the thought of it. Not right now, of course, but when she really wants to get fucked nice and deep, this one would be perfect.
There are a couple of harnesses, too. Even one that’s made of a leather so soft it feels like butter. She can adjust it to her smaller size, or make it wider for a larger person.
“That one is my favorite,” Nym says as he tosses away the last of his clothing, leaving him gloriously nude. “If you were looking for suggestions.”
Tempest is briefly distracted by looking. Nym’s gorgeous, all nicely toned, but a little soft around the mid-section, his skin dappled pale in places, and the occasional freckle popping up. He’s got regular feet, rather than the clawed ones some gemlings have, and his legs are dusted with hair. Her mouth waters as he absently curls a hand around himself, giving his dick a brief stroke, a pearl of pre gathering at the tip.
She can’t decide which part of him she wants to taste first.
He raises his eyebrows when he catches her looking. “I can’t tell if you’re currently aroused or if you intend to eat me.”
Tempest shoves all the toys but Nym’s favorite back into the bag and pushes it aside. “Both.” She stands, toy in one hand, harness in the other. “Help me put this on.”
Nym slides from the bed to the floor, landing carefully on his knees. “Of course,” he purrs and rests his hands on her hips, tugging her closer. His thumbs glide over her hipbones. Like this, they’re of a height, and Tempest appreciates that. “Though I hope you don’t mind if I touch a little along the way.”
“Keep your fingers out of my pussy, and you can touch wherever you want.” Tempest lets herself be pulled closer.
Nym’s palms are warm, broad, lightly calloused. His hands sweep up and down her sides, her hips, the exterior of her thighs. He cups her tits, and caresses the inside of her thighs, and only brushes her clit, but doesn’t try to go further. His forehead furrows like he’s deep in the middle of concentration, but his cock is still firm and dripping steadily.
She’s wet, too, and every time he finds an erogenous zone, Tempest only gets wetter. She snatches one of his hands and slaps the harness into it. “Get this out of the way first.”
“Fair point.” Nym places her hand on his shoulder. “Should you need assistance with your balance,” he explains before he walks her through putting on the harness.
First one foot and then the other, cinching it firm around her waist, and snug against her mound. He slides the toy into place, the flat and flared base of it pressing firmly to her clit. There’s a complicated tie that keeps the toy from slipping free she’d have never figured out on her own.
Thank the gods she’d had the sense to put it on now rather than when Nym’s begging for it. And he will beg for it by the time all is said and done.
“There.” Nym smooths his hands over the straps to ensure everything is comfortably in place. “You are outfitted, my dear.”
Tempest looks down and grins. It’s the biggest toy she’s ever put on, and it looks enormous from her perspective. She sways her hips, but it doesn’t budge, which means it’ll stay where it’s supposed to when it counts.
“You have a very nice dick,” Nym praises as he circles his fingers around the polished wood and gives it a stroke.
Something sparkles in the wake of his touch, and by the time he reaches the tip, Tempest swears it feels like someone has stroked a place deep inside of her that sings with pleasure. She gasps, thrusting into his grip, her nipples immediately tightening into buds. She cups her breasts, giving her nipples a light pinch.
“What is that?” Tempest breathes as he thumbs the tip. It feels like someone has laid their finger on her clit, pressing down with a firm, wonderful pressure.
“The reason this is my favorite.” Nym exhales over the tip, and Tempest swears she feels the wet heat of his breath on her cunt. “There’s a resonance enchantment in the wood. It won’t feel like a dick to you, but it will feel good.”
Tempest’s eyes widen. “Really?” She strokes the base of the wood with her fingertip, and it feels like a gentle caress over her cunt. “I’m so fucking jealous. I want one.”
Nym hums and licks the tip, making her knees wobble as the sensation goes straight to her clit. “Well, when I finish the next version, you can have this one.”
She buries her hands in his hair, careful of his horns. Some of the gemlings have said they’re delicate. “You’re my new favorite.”
He laughs around his mouthful and winks up at her. “Tell me after you’ve fucked me with this,” he says. “Did you grab the oil, perchance?”
“Oh. Nope. Oops.” It’s a bit hard to think right now. She’s really looking forward to seeing how it feels to fuck into him with this. “Where is it?”
“In the velvet bag.”
Tempest can’t believe she missed it. She reluctantly pulls away from Nym’s warm mouth and goes digging for the oil – an absolute must considering the size of the toy.
There’s a stoppered bottle at the bottom of the bag that’s about half-full. She uncorks it and gives the contents a sniff – herbal and pleasant.
“How would you like me? I feel as if this position will be easiest for you,” Nym says, and when Tempest turns around, arousal hooks a finger in her gut and tugs her toward him.
He’s pulled one of the pillows off the bed and placed it beneath his knees as padding because he’s draped his upper half across the bed, propping his ass up at the perfect height for her to drive into him. Without the give of the mattress, Tempest will be able to brace herself and get the best leverage.
She was right. He has a fantastic ass, and the way his tail twitches back and forth over his cleft, it’s like he’s teasing her.
Tempest’s mouth goes dry. “How… uh… how much warm-up do you need?” She palms his ass, and he rocks forward, grinding his dick against the size of the bed.
“Enough oil should suffice but if you like to tease a little, I’m not opposed.” Nym over his shoulder, playfully waggling his eyebrows. “The base of my tail is sensitive, and it’s sturdier than it looks.”
Tempest grasps the base of his tail, thumb curling around the underside to press in where it connects just above his cleft. Nym makes a delighted sound, visibly shuddering from head to toe, and his knees push further apart, making ample room for her between them.
She sets the oil on the edge of the bed within reach and moves between his thighs, the tip of her cock nudging the inside of his thighs. Ohhh. It feels like she’s rubbed her cunt on bare skin, so she rocks her hips forward, seeking more sensation. Gods, how’s it going to feel when she’s inside him?
Tempest slips her thumb along his cleft and finds his hole, rubbing lightly along the puckered flesh. He pushes back against her thumb, and when she pulls on his tail at the same time, he moans and his back arches.
“Fuck,” Tempest breathes. It’s the hottest thing she’s seen as of late.
Wet drips out of her cunt.
“I agree,” Nym says, clenching beneath the pressure of her thumb.
She presses harder, in small circles, teasing him with penetration, using only the inner heel of her thumb. He makes little humming noises in his throat and pushes back against her, and then forward into the side of the bed, rutting between the two sources of pleasure without shame.
Good. She likes it when her partners are eager for their pleasure. Now where did she put that oil?
“Tell me if I do something you don’t like,” Tempest says, half-breathless with want. She’s never seen a man bend over so willingly, present himself like this, eager for her to fuck him. Clearly, it’s something he enjoys.
Gods, he’s going to sing for her, isn’t he?
“Of course,” Nym says, and he sounds breathless himself, his balls drawing up against his taint, his thighs quivering when she rubs up against them.
Tempest finds the oil and hastily dribbles it down his cleft and over her fingers. She coats the toy, too, and her knees shake when the sensation transfer to her cunt. It’s like she palmed herself, stroking her clit with featherlight touches. She clenches on nothing, and rocks into the tunnel of her fist for a few seconds, just to savor it.
“Don’t get distracted now,” Nym warns, probably because the slick sounds of her jerking the toy fill the room.
“I’m not,” Tempest lies, and immediately smears the oil around Nym’s hole before pushing her index finger into him.
He opens for her like he’s made to take it, though granted her fingers aren’t as long or thick as the average person, so she adds another just in case. Nym wasn’t kidding when he said all he needed was the oil and he’d be good to go. He’s super relaxed.
Still, considering that punched-out sound he just made…
Tempest pushes her fingers in and out, the oil squelching noisily, and Nym exhales a moan, his tail nearly slapping her in the face.
“Watch your tail.” Tempest curves her fingers, and Nym claws at the blanket, back bowing, hole tightening around her knuckles.
“My apologies,” he pants. “You may need to – nnnngh – hold onto it.”
Oh, she can absolutely do that. Tempest slides her free hand down the length of Nym’s tail, tightening her hold.
Nym groans, long and low. His tail twitches in her grasp, and Tempest thinks she could spend all night teasing him like this, with the crook of her fingers and the grip of his tail. She could turn him into a wet, desperate mess. But maybe some other time, because she’s eager to see how this toy feels inside him.
“This too much?” She guides the head of her very plain dick to his hole, rubbing against the oiled opening. It’s like a wet kiss to her clit, and Tempest bites her bottom lip on a groan.
Nym pushes back to meet her. “You may be more – hngh – firm,” he pants, and rocks against the toy, trying to get it inside him.
Tempest grins. “I can definitely do that.”
She gets a firm grip on his tail before she rolls her hips forward. The head of her dick pops past the ring of muscle with ease, and she doesn’t pause until half of her is in him.
Nym stills, and Tempest has to catch her breath. It feels… It feels…. She doesn’t have words for it. It’s like someone’s sucked her clit into their mouth and rolled their tongue around the swollen flesh. It’s like a smooth dick of the perfect size has slipped into her cunt, pressing gentle against her favorite spot.
“Please move,” Nym begs, and Tempest grips his hip with her free hand, rocking forward again and again, until she’s fully-seated within Nym, his ass pressed to her groin and the straps of the harness.
He must be clenching around the dick, because there’s a steady ripple along the inside of her cunt, and it’s making her knees shake. She rubs her thumb on the underside of his tail, right at the base, and Nym makes a low, humming sound in his throat.
Lust flash-fires through her veins, hooking tightly in her belly. Tempest can’t help but move, feet digging into the floor for leverage as she starts to fuck him in sharp, quick movements. Nym moans a choked sound and pushes back to meet her thrusts, rocking forward to grind his dick against the side of the bed.
Fuck, how do people with actual dicks stand it? How do they keep on fucking when it feels this good?
Tempest sucks air through her teeth and tries to set up a rhythm, two hard thrusts followed by a gentler one, as phantom sensations flick over her cunt, suck on her clit, grind deeply on the spot that flecks her vision with stars.
“I’m going to steal this toy,” she swears as she pushes deep, a minor orgasm ripping through her.
Nym chuckles, but it’s breathless and a bit high-pitched. “You can certainly – oh, gods – harder, please.” The last is a tremulous cry as he tosses his head back and fucks against the side of the bed, dick leaving smears of pre in sticky drips.
Tempest wants to him to make another one of those sounds. All of the sounds actually. So she digs her fingers into his hip, tightens her grip on his tail, and really starts to put her back into it. She pulls on his tail with every thrust forward, like she’s yanking him onto her dick, and Nym keens.
He claws at the mattress, presses his face to the blanket, and there’s a sensation like someone sucking on her clit, sucking hard and fast. Tempest briefly falters in her rhythm, torn between the ache in her cunt, and the delicious sounds coming out of Nym’s mouth.
“Don’t – don’t stop,” Nym gasps, and that snaps her back to the task at hand. Or, er, dick.
She pushes through her own pleasure and drives into him again, snapping her hips harder and harder until he suddenly bucks beneath her, shoving back and taking the dick to the root. He goes still, shuddering and shaking, as he splurts against the bed. Tempest’s own vision greys around the edges as the sucking sensation on her clit intensifies, and then she’s helplessly coming, cunt gushing slick and clenching down on nothing.
It goes on and on and on, and Tempest’s body locks up as the ecstasy jolts through her every limb until it finally shakes her like a rag doll and lets go. She gasps, slumping forward against Nym’s back, little kitten licks across her clit as Nym shivers beneath her, probably twitching around the dick in his ass.
Holy fucking shit.
Tempest drags in breath after breath, sweaty and flush with heat. It takes her a moment to loosen her fingers from Nym’s hip – he’s probably going to have a bruise, oops – and to let go of his tail, which falls limply over his ass.
“Are you… good?” Tempest manages as she rests her cheek on Nym’s back and tries to catch her breath. He’s blazing heat like a bonfire.
Nym sinks fully onto the bed, his arms tucked beneath his head. “Marvelous,” he says with a dreamy sigh. “Though I’ve now realized I neglected to eat you out like I promised.”
“There’s still time.” Tempest rubs her cheek along Nym’s back, breathing in the scent of skin and sex and– “Oh, hey. I just realized something, too.”
“Hm? What’s that?”
Tempest forces herself upright, trying not to jostle the dick within Nym because she can still feel every twitch of his body as a caress against hers. “I never kissed you, and I wanted to do that.”
Nym breathes a laugh. “Well, as you said, we still have time.” He shifts, knees rocking from side to side.
Oh, shit. She should probably move.
“Hold on. I’m pulling out.” Tempest eases out of Nym, shivering as the sensation feels just like someone sliding out of her in a post-orgasm stupor.
His hole contracts in her absence, which is pretty damn sexy. She can’t help running her thumb over his rim, and he rewards her with a shiver and a soft, satisfied sound.
“Sensitive?” she asks.
“Yes, but in a good way.” Nym’s tail twitches and knocks her thumb aside. “Give me a moment to recover, stretch out my knees even, and I’ll be good to go again.”
Tempest steps back to give him room. “This thing is amazing,” she says, dropping a hand to the toy to lightly explore it with her fingers. It’s the edge of too much to her oversensitive cunt, even though she hadn’t actually touched herself.
“Thank you.” Nym exhales as he turns over to sit on the pillow, back braced against the side of the bed, despite the smear of come he’d left there. He’s wrecked and sweaty, hair falling in wet tangles around his face.
It’s a great look for him, honestly.
“You really made it yourself?”
Nym pushes his hair out of his face. “I’m an inventor. It’s kind of what I do.” He looks at the toy still strapped to her waist with pride. “You’re the first person to use that, other than myself. How do you find it?”
Tempest thumbs the tip, and it translates as a gentle touch to her clit. “If it vanishes from your pack, it wasn’t me.”
“Good to know.” Nym tilts back against the bed. “The cost is perhaps too much to market for others, but I could probably make them on commission.” He scratches at his beard, tugging on the tiny braid. “Something to consider.”
“I’d buy one,” Tempest says, but she’s not really focusing on the conversation. She’s too busy stroking the toy – her dick – and twitching as the sensation echoes to her cunt like someone’s licking at her folds, stroking her clit, teasing right along her opening.
Nym’s voice is rich with amusement. “Tempest.”
“Hm.”
“Come here and let me kiss you.”
“Oh. Right. I forgot.” Tempest lets go and stands over Nym, straddling his hips.
Nym hums and gently takes her chin in hand, pulling her in for a kiss that starts with a nip at her bottom lip, then his tongue easing into her mouth. Tempest drapes her arms over his shoulders, pressing her body against his chest. The dick rubs against Nym’s chest, sliding against bare skin and chest hair, and it’s so good.
Tempest shivers, barely fighting the urge to grind against his chest. “Honestly, I don’t know how you people with dicks get anything done. This thing is sensitive to everything.”
Nym laughs and puts his hands on her hips, though one sneaks around to cup her ass. “That is a matter of some debate. You get used to it.”
“Why would I want to get used to it? I want it to feel like this all the time.” Tempest rocks her hips, the head of the dick sliding over Nym’s pec.
She kisses him again, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth. He makes a surprised noise, but now both of his hands are on her ass, squeezing it. He pulls her against him, encouraging her to rock against his chest, though one of his hands finally remembers she’s got tits, and gets a good handful of one.
Tempest moans, clenching down on nothing. She hadn’t wanted to get fucked tonight, but there’s an ache within her that she blames entirely on the toy.
“Are you ready for round two yet?” Tempest asks.
“My dear, it takes a little longer for a flesh and blood penis to recover.” Nym pinches her nipple, and she jerks. “But fret you not. My mouth is perfectly functional, and I’d love to see how you taste.” His hand dips between her thighs, sliding easily through the slick gathered in her cunt before teasing at her clit.
Tempest’s knees go weak. After all that magical ghostly sensation, an actual touch feels a thousand times better.
“O-okay,” she stutters out, going from mildly aroused to the precipice of orgasm in two seconds flat. “I-if you insist.”
Nym hums and there’s something devilish in the sound, something that makes her wonder if maybe she’s in over her head.
He thumbs her nipple again, pressing gentle and firm over her clit. “It would be my pleasure.”
“Mine, too,” Tempest squeaks. “So put your mouth where it belongs.” Oh, if he can go all night, all the better. It’ll be like that one time with Sinoun all over again, except Nym is far more fun and far less arrogant about it.
“Gladly,” Nym purrs and pulls her in for a steamy kiss..
Maybe traveling with a half-dozen gorgeous people isn’t the torment she thought it would be.
Not all of them are untouchable.
***