A Pretty Elf in Qeynos Part Twenty Five

Despite the slight chill in the late night air, Cadwarra and Amber were enjoying the walk home. They talked about how so many men had danced quite close to them.

“I think it was our dresses made the men want to waltz with us so much” Cadwarra guessed. Amber was pretty sure it was the dresses.

“They need to be more careful” Cadwarra continued. “I felt quite a few erections brush against me. I did not say anything, though. I did not want to embarrass them. Perhaps they did not realize they were hard.”

“Yes. I am sure they did not mean to press their big dicks against us” Amber answered, though her tone suggested the opposite.

They walked on. A little tipsy and horny enough to be indiscreet, Cadwarra suddenly confided to Amber that none of the cocks felt anything close to Papa’s size.

Amber took note of that bit of information, her interest in the size of Papa’s member purely pragmatic. Arleena had on several occasions brought up the fact that she had heard rumours of Papa’s size. She had wanted Amber to ‘arrange things’ for her. Amber had not quite gotten around to ‘arranging things’, though, not sure how you tell your father that your best friend wants to have a shag with him.

Amber decided to change the subject, a little uncomfortable discussing her father like that. “You and Lord Bowerbrook got the last good room” she lamented. “Earl Marshford and I got one way down the hall, without a double tub. If you complain to Mama by claiming you got the bad room maybe she’ll renovate the bath enclosure properly for next time.”

Cadwarra had no intention of lying. Having met Lady Vishra, Cadwarra was aware of her power and determined to keep her as an ally. She adroitly switched topics. “So you were further down the hall? That wasn’t you next to me with the fellow that couldn’t stay hard?”

“Oh! Marr forbid!” Amber answered “Lord Marshford and his wrinkled old wiener got plenty hard before we even left the dance floor. He had it pushed against me just as eagerly as the guys at school used to do when they danced with me. I guess boys never grow up and stop doing that.”

Having had one too many Jizz Fizzes, Amber lost her footing briefly. Catching herself in time she boasted proudly “I kept Lord Marshford nice and hard ‘til he finished inside me.” Her modesty lessened by the the alcohol in all those Jizz Fizzes, she was quite proud of the large load of cum that had flowed from the old Earl’s cock, surging into her juicy interior.

As they continued on down the empty streets the discussion of their sexual experiences that evening devolved into more and more graphic details of things such as the many cocks each had encountered in their sexual adventures and what they most liked about the way men used those cocks. They discussed how every cock is different and how the cum they shot varies in consistency, volume, taste and shooting distance.

“I love when it spurts really far” Amber stated.

“I just want lots of it to pump out all over me” Cadwarra answered. She thought of the night of her trial and her three Jurors. “I like it when it comes from more then one cock.”

They then fell into speculating as to how much of what a male ate affected the taste and thickness of his semen. “I swear, each Jizz Fizz I had tonight tasted just a bit different. I need to reserve one of the stable boys exclusively for my Jizz Fizzes next time. I just need to identify the one with the tastiest nut.”

That got Cadwarra to thinking. “If we swallowed the same man’s cum on two different nights but he had eaten the same meal each night” she pondered out loud “do you suppose we would find he tasted the same or different?” Cadwarra would not have asked that question out loud had she known that a half dozen drunks were just about to come around the corner from the direction of the Irontoe’s East Tavern. It was obvious from their reaction that they had heard what she said.

The drunks were clearly pleased to have unexpectedly happened along two very pretty girls in the deserted street, talking about eating cum and displaying their breasts in revealing dresses for all to see. The defenseless girls had no bodyguard in sight and by their conversation were clearly needing male servicing.

The lead fellow, as drunk as he could be while still able to walk, seemed to be spokesman of the group. “Sounds like there’s a coupla open minded sluts here that’ll ‘ppreciate a good fuck, boys.”

The big braggart lurched drunkenly and leered at Cadwarra’s chest. Not standing on ceremony he started unbuckling his belt. “So yer like ter swaller, Woodsy?…well, maybe yer’ll get t’ swaller muh cum lader. Right now I’m gonna fuck ya til it’s drippin’ outta yer cunt…over here ‘gainst this wall!”

The girls were disgusted to realize he had flopped his soft dick out, as if the flacid thing would impress anybody. Seemingly too drunk to get it up, he did not stop to consider that the unimpressive state of his weeny would be a problem confounding his stated intentions.

He eagerly took a drunken step toward Cadwarra, his little worm wiggling as he lurched slightly off balance. “Yer liddle fren’ there can pick which wunna my pals gets’er first while I fuck you, but we’re all gonna havva turn ‘ventually…wi’both of yous! Ha ha! Yer kin thankuss lader!”

His companions all laughed oafishly, looking forward to a fun time fucking a couple of high born Ladies who had not the wit to travel in the company of a squad of guards for protection in the dark streets.

There was a reason Marshall Vishra had not assigned any Housecarls to escort his daughter and mistress home: it was a waste of manpower. While Amber looked uncertainly at a situation she had never encountered before, Cadwarra knew how to address the problem. She spun around 360 degrees to launch one of her Area of Effect spells. There was a bright flash of light that dazzled everyone’s eyesight then the magic blow from her ‘Ancient Wrath’ hit the half dozen drunks full in the face. It knocked the whole group back on their asses.

Cadwarra had not put all her effort into the attack. The ruffians weren’t too hurt; just their pride plus some bruised buttocks and severely singed beards.

As the men lay there in stunned surprise, Cadwarra angrily stared them down. “You boys need to learn to ask politely if you want to celebrate Tunare with a couple of willing girls. You’ll catch more songbirds with honey than you will with vinegar.”

She waited, ready to launch a more deadly spell if needed, but the drunken bravado the boors had shown was now gone. None thought it wise to stand up and block her way. Seeing no reply from the brutes, Cadwarra dismissively walked on, dragging Amber in her wake.

The group was glad to see the departure of those two contrary females. They watched in defeat as Cadwarra and Amber turned a corner and were gone. “I didn’ know it was one of them magic caster’s” the Loudmouth apologized to his mates in answer to their angry glares. As if in defense he added “…but did you see that Woodsy’s titties bouncin’ while she danced round an’ fired off that spell!!? They were so close to tumbling outta that dress tha’ I was jussabout sick t’my pants. I mean they was prackt’ly bubblin’ outta her top!”

There was grudging admission that those boobs had certainly looked good bouncing away like that. One observed that the Wood Elf’s quiet friend also had cute nubs, even if a little small. The Chief Loudmouth tried to rise but his backside was too sore so he stayed down while summing up the situation. “By Bristlebane, y’all owe me a pint fer that show! Nice display of tits by both of them!”

They sat there nursing their hurts a bit longer. All agreed those were mighty fine bodies those revealing dresses were showing off. “If they din’ wanna fuck” one complaining drunk opined from the ground “why did they dress like that?” The rest sat there agreeing they were a couple of stuck-up cockteasers.

That was how Penley’s patrol found them, having been attracted by the sound of someone firing off a combat spell in the streets of Qeynos in contradiction to City ordnance. “It was a coupla’ Wood Elf brigands” the leader complained to Penley “flashin’ their tits to firs’ distrack’tus then usin’ magic to overwhelm us!” A little more sober, he found his feet in order to show respect to a Captain of the Guard. “We fought ‘em off tho’…kept our coin an’ they ran off…the ornery bitches.”

“Was either one of them a Dark Elf female?” Penley asked, not interested in tales of Feir’Dal banditry. “I had some Dark Elf whore safe and sound in jail under lock and key until someone had her released in the middle of the night. Now I have to apprehend her all over again.”

“We din’ get a good look at their faces, if you foller us Cap’n, but a’m pritty sure our muggers were Wood Elves. Never saw any Blueberry with’em. Ma’bee they was workin’ fer the Blueberry.”

“I suspect so” Penley replied. “If you see that Dark Elf bitch sneaking around, let us know.” While she spoke, Penley gave the man a quick up and down. She noticed he had his soft pecker out. She burst into a laugh at how small it was as she turned to her men. “Come on, Troops, there’s not much to see here…not much at all.” The whole squad had a good chuckle.

A block away, Amber turned admiringly to Cadwarra. “You sure straightened those goons out.”

“Silly drunks” Cadwarra answered. “I’m sure they are quite nice when sober.” She glanced back to make sure they had seen the last of the troublemakers.

Amber thought no more of the unpleasant men. She put an affectionate arm around Cadwarra’s waist and went back to girl-talking about the party. “How many men fucked you tonight?”

“Just your Father and Lord Bowerbrook. What about you?”

“Just Lord Marshford. And only because Alweya was tired and went home early. I was getting bored and he kept grinding his hard-on against my thigh and feeling me up on the dance floor. If he wasn’t going to keep his hands to himself I figured Mama would want me to take him somewhere discreet where the other guests couldn’t see me getting groped and think they could do it, too.”

In homage to the memory of Marshford’s attentions, Amber’s areolas were shrinking and crinkling under her diaphanous top. As the nipples hardened, Cadwarra reached over and cupped Amber’s small cute breast, running her fingertips softly over Amber’s awakened nipple. She teased Amber. “You liked his groping once he got on top of you in private, didn’t you? The very memory is making your nipple rise high and stiff while I touch it.”

Amber was acutely aware that Cadwarra’s nipples were also coming to attention, poking out under the lace in response to her frank talk. She brought her lips up to Cadwarra’s and kissed softly. Cadwarra answered with her own kisses. They stopped in the middle of the dark street so they could kiss properly. Breasts crushed together. Alone in the middle of the street, they necked for several minutes.

By the time they had got home they were ready for bed. Amber saw Cadwarra drape her dress over the back of a chair. She took up Cadwarra’s dress to hang it properly so it would not get wrinkles.

They did not relight the fire. They were too tired to do anything except climb naked into bed and cuddle close under the warm thick covers. Amber cupped Cadwarra’s left breast. She took the liberty of taking its nipple in her mouth. She had once sucked on Arleena’s breasts on a dare during a sleepover. She had liked it. She liked Cadwarra’s nipple, too. Cadwarra did not object as her mouth clamped onto it.

Amber was hoping Diamander would come home soon. She hoped to get him to fuck her first, then switch to Cadwarra then back to her. She imagined both of them kissing and sucking Diamander’s cock. It was big enough for both of them at once she reasoned.

When Diamander failed to appear Amber soon fell asleep, sucking on a mouthful of Wood Elf breast in consolation for the lovely cock she was wanting.

********************************************

It was four in the morning. Diamander was cold as he stood on the quay beside where the armed merchantman “The Prize of Prexus” was moored. The crew of the ”Prize” bustled about getting ready to depart. They ignored him. He pulled his formal dinner jacket around him. He wished the sun would rise and warm the air.

Baltazar was not there. There was no pack nor ticket waiting for him. Annoyed, Diamander stood there at the bottom of the gang plank, barred from coming aboard without a ticket and wondering where Baltazar and his luggage were.

Captain Coranis marched off the aft deck of The Prize then across the main deck, headed onto the quay. She strode down the gang plank unconcerned by how much it deflected under each vexed step she took. Her sea legs adjusted easily to the movement of the plank but the wild bending under the force of her angry stomps made her attractive tits bounce in the vertical plane with a large amplitude. The hands ashore, standing by the mooring lines prepared to cast off the instant the Captain gave the word, had a good look at their skipper’s jiggling fun-sacks. If she noticed they were looking, she did not reprimand them. She was too annoyed with Diamander to pay them any mind.

Diamander had never met Captain Abella Coranis before but he had heard several of the malicious lies that had been attached to her. Such fabrications would routinely spring up in the taverns of Qeynos and elsewhere, fostered by too much ale and by the jealousy of those who wished to explain away Coranis’s success by assassinating her character.

Being a mere Half Elf of questionable ancestry, and a woman to boot, Coranis suffered uncounted rumours spawned by resentful people who could not concede that such a base-born female could rise to the lofty position of Master and Majority Owner of an armed merchantman without some malevolent explanation for her success.

The wiser folks rightly dismissed the libelous tales about her as the stuff that lesser-educated folk might tell about a woman who had made it in a man’s world. Still, these vicious lies were bandied around over pints quaffed in the drinking establishments in every port The Prize of Prexus regularly visited.

“She spent time in Neriak” was how the story would always start “with those damnable Dark Elves. In exchange for a good time in her willing snatch, those Teir’Dal mages taught her their dark arts and evil tricks.”

The speed at which these slanders spread was due in good part by the men who were sexually aroused to imagine the pretty Coranis lying under various lusting Dark Elves, scandalously permitting the use of her attractive body in exchange for arcane knowledge.