The Inn Ch. 08

I slid my hand up and then down my shaft.

"Oh,fuck!"

That one stroke, all by itself, got me right to the edge. I had to freeze again, hand completely still, feeling the swell and throb of impending orgasm thicken my cock toward explosion. Imaginary Leyna laughed with delight and flashing eyes. So much precum flowed out of my tip that it dribbled over my knuckles and ran all the way down to my balls.

Panting and trembling, I waited for the sensation to die down so that I could take another stroke without spewing.Jesus, what if it doesn't die down?Almost threateningly, my hard-on stayed tensed at the very precipice of explosion, tingling and making my nuts ache.Maybe I should just ...Another runnel of precum trickled out and reminded me that Eesia's venom had apparently supercharged my sex organs' productivity — which meant I had no idea how much cum I would shoot out when my cock went off. My eyes darted around for something to catch it with — a sock or my underwear or, really, anything that I could use to avoid blasting the sheets with what felt like it might be a gallon of spooge. A napkin lay on the dinner tray nearby.But if I come in that, she'll have to clean it just like she would the sheets.

I finally settled on the water glass. I could pour the cum out of that into the chamber pot, I figured.

Assuming I had the strength to get out of bed and make it to the corner where the ceramic container stood.

Leaning and having to reach across my body with my left hand, I picked up the glass and drank half its contents — then realized how parched my throat was and drank the rest.

Been losing a lot of fluids, obviously.

By the time I'd emptied the glass, my dick no longer strained at the brink of orgasm in my grasp. Thinking it had calmed down, I gave it another experimental stroke.

And it went off.

"Gwah!"

My spine arched with the recoil of climax. My head snapped back and banged into the wall behind me. The glass slipped from my fingers, forgotten and nowhere near the right position anyway. The whole lower half of my body seemed to contract and fountain out of my dick. Hot splashes of semen flew up and out, lacing across my thighs, reaching so far I could hear them spatter on the sheets, which I'd pushed all the way below my knees earlier.

In my head, the hand clutching that wildly spouting beam disappeared, replaced by soft, tight, squeezing vaginal musculature that somehow felt blonde and blue-eyed and breasty and joyously sweet.

"Holyshit,Leyna," I gasped as my groin continued its spasms and the cum kept gushing like it had no intention of stopping. "Uhhhhhhh ..."

Four or five white geysers plumed up and rained back on my lap and the sheets. Then a switch turned and the ecstasy dropped a couple of notches and I realized that right below the pleasure, every squirt sent an abused, bruised twinge through my balls and the root of my cock. My heart rate rattled up to an alarming level, my whole pubic region throbbed in complaint, and yet I kept ejaculating longer than I ever had before.

"Ow! Fuck!" By now I'd let go. Successive gouts twitched my dick up, let it lower, twitched it up, let it lower, until finally it hung limp and sore, quivering out a last few drops. Cum had gone everywhere. My lap. My legs. The sheets beneath and around me. The covers thrown back beyond my knees. A little bit had reached the glass I'd dropped to the mattress — all of it on the outside, of course, none caught where I'd meant it to go.Would it even haveheldall this spew?

I tried to scrape and slide some of the thick, white goo off myself, into a single spot on the sheets, into a heap that I could maneuver to the mouth of the glass. Mostly this just smeared stuff around, but I still ended up with maybe a tablespoon or two of spunk in the glass. And the effort made my plan to get out of bed and pour it in the chamber pot feel highly unrealistic. Weakly, I set the glass of cum back on the food tray and tugged the covers up across my sticky, exhausted legs and lap.

So much for asking Leyna to have sex with my anytime soon. I certainly didn't want our first time to be a two-stroke micro-fuck that left me squirming in pain underneath her. As if to emphasize that truth, my dick tensed beneath the cum-heavy sheets and made my balls feel like a noose had tightened around them.

Think about something else, for god's sake, Simon. Think about something else.

Leyna.

"Ow!" I told my cock. "Stop that!"

It surged and subsided again. When the pain released enough brain cells for me to form a coherent thought, I immediately pushed them toward the least sexy thing I could think of.

Necromanata. Zombie hordes. All of Phaeland murdered, enslaved, or eaten.

My dick pouted its way down to a sulky slackness, though it didn't stop aching.

Struggling to ignore it, I pondered what I'd accomplished so far. If everything went completely according to plan, Kleburn and Laluthe and the Tinkervolde brothers would rescue Amia the Pristine in a few weeks, which would prevent Necromanata from sacrificing the sanctified virgin to the great powers of the outer dark. That would hold him to his normal capacity of animating a few dozen zombies per day, as opposed to the legions he could summon up if the sacrifice went through. Then, another week later, they would trade Vark's sword to the Knights of Thankorta in exchange for the Heart of Asp, which would pay off the Children of Septra to intercept the Mortuary Mage's envoy to the Sutherdun orcs, eliminating the other half of the necromancer's military resources. The doom-bearing march of orcs and undead would be put off a minimum of six months, if not longer.

But the arch-mage himself would still be out there.

In the novel, Juliette and her companions ambushed the mission on its way to the orcs. Then they used the envoy's magical signet and the gear and trappings of his guards to sneak north through the wastelands, unmolested by the ghoulish garrisons along the way. In this Simon-stuck-at-the-inn draft, though, the zombie-warding signet ring would end up in the hands of the viper-folk in Ss'sla.

My groin gave a painful quiver of pre-emptive dissent to head off even a moment's thought of contacting Eesia's people again. I couldn't negotiate for the signet ring. I'd had enough dealing with the Temples of Scale to last me a lifetime — and I suspected my lifetime might be shortened considerably if I tried to push it.

So what did that leave me for an endgame?

At the moment, I was dead broke. In the hole to Leyna, in fact (wince-inducing penile throb at her name), although she (throb) wouldn't ask me to pay anything back right away, I was sure.

The Doom of Necromanataended in an epic battle between Juliette and her allies on one side and the necromancer and his walking-dead lieutenants on the other. Laluthe and Kleburn and the Tinkervoldes couldn't match the swordplay and wizardry it had taken to defeat Necromanata, and even if they could, I didn't have the signet ring that would let them slip past the zombie legions to confront him.

So what else was there? What else did I know that would let me recruit a better strike force, or better arm the one I had on my side at the moment? What weakness did Necromanata have that might let them get past his defenses?

Weakness.

Did unpublished stuff count in the version of Phaeland where I'd been plopped down? I hadn't really given Necromanata any Achilles' heel in the only book he'd appeared in, but Ihadscratched out eight or ten pages of notes at one point for a possible sequel:The Necromancer's Daughter.The plot was going to hinge on a long-lost daughter of the arch-mage, who meant to use his Soul Focus to bring him back. The Soul Focus was a total ret-con idea — a magical piece of jewelry that Necromanata had forged as the repository for his sorcerous power. As long as it existed, he could never be fully destroyed, because his true power resided within it rather than in his body.

Fuck, if I could get my hands on that Soul Focus, I could kill him by remote control — or at least cut off his power.

Unfortunately, while the Soul Focus made a sweet McGuffin for a novel, I hadn't actually gotten around to saying where it was. I only knew that Necromanata had lost it years before his encounter with Juliette Ravendark, and the next time it showed up was in his daughter's hands ten or twelve years after the events ofTDoN.

Besides which, I don't even know if the notes are real here. Shit, for that matter, I don't even know if the stuff I wrote in the laterbooksis real.I had a momentary spike of fear at the idea that Laluthe the Lumply and the Tinkervolde Brothers and the Earth Arrow didn't actually exist in this version of Phaeland because they hadn't been written at the time I set down the Necromanata plotline.But no,I reassured myself,Kizaah showed up here, and that line about welfish strumpets' cunts didn't get written for two more books. If welfs are real at this point, so are the Tinkervoldes.

I struggled on for a while longer, trying to think of other avenues that might be used to defeat Necromanata, then trying to remember any more details I could about where and when that Soul Focus might be found. But my brain didn't want to cooperate, and I'd abandonedThe Necromancer's Daughterseveral years ago with little more than a partial outline complete.

Maybe if I get some food in my stomach, things will start coming back to me.

I hauled the tray over and found a bowl of broth with rice and a hunk of bread. The soup had gone tepid since Leyna brought it up, but it tasted good, and the first bite woke my stomach from grumbly to ravenous. I polished it off quickly, ate the bread, then picked up the drinking glass before remembering what was in it.

"Ergh." Setting the glass down, I shifted the tray over to the chair again and burped. The bellyful of food made me sleepy, so I closed my eyes for a second, then reopened them at a knock on the door.

Or maybe that wasn't a second,I thought, seeing the full dark of night through the window and both the fire and lamp burning low.

"Yes?" I lifted my head, heart rate rising too and hard-on rising right after that because I knew it had to be Leyna.

"Oh, good, you're awake!" she said as she came in. The brightness on her face could have lit the room for me even if she hadn't gone to the desk and turned up the lamp. As she bent to fiddle with its knobs, I noticed the Elterawisse book between the lamp and my folded clothes on the desk. I tried to focus on that instead of the way her bottom curved out as she leaned over.

"I seem to keep fading in and out," I said.

She turned around, nodding. "Sylva said to expect that. Between the poison and the medicine she brewed to get rid of the poison, you'll be feeling peaked a few more days at the least."

"Oh," I said.Should I work up the courage to ask how long my dick is supposed to be haywire?It hardened up again at the very notion, so I decided against the subject. "I guess it's lucky I have your book to finish reading then."

A shy look came over her face. "You're not just saying that, are you? Did you ever get throughA Gadabout in Disarray?"

"No," I admitted. "Lord and Lady Highport intervened with their bet," a cock-throb at the memory of Ferd Highport riding my erection to ecstasy, "and then Eesia came and ..." The cock-throb bloomed into a straining discomfort beneath the sheets.

"Sorry, I'd forgotten in all the frantic first couple of days and all the worried ones after that." Her gaze fell to my lap and then returned to my face, her expression even more shy than before. "Um, are we back at the same pass we were before? The dinner crowd is done now, you know. The rest of my evening's my own ..."

My face burned almost as intensely as my crotch bulged. "Oh, uh, it really hasn't been that long since I —" A glance at the chair beside me showed the tray and its empty bowl and glass of cum long gone. "Oh."

She laughed a little. "Yes, I fetched that hours ago. You certainly had a time after I left the room and told you to get wanking, didn't you?" Her nose crinkled mischievously. "It still smells a tad spewy in here!"

"Sorry," I said. "I really didn't mean to leave that for you to deal with. I was going to pour it in the —"

"What?" Her eyes widened. "And here I thought you'd left it as a treat for me. 'Ask before assuming,' they say. I suppose I should have done instead of just ..." The pink tip of her tongue darted out across her upper lip.

My cock went so hard, I felt the sheets lifting up from my thighs. I think I may have gasped. "Um, uh ... I guess ... no, that's fine. I didn't mean to — but if you wanted to — but I only did it because there was so much, and it was everywhere."

"Haha, that little swallow was nothing, Simon. I've been gobbling it down by the bucket-load all week!" She cleaned her teeth with her tongue. "Itwasa touch stale by the time I got to it, though."

I coughed. Her eyes had returned to my crotch.

"And now you've plainly got a fresh batch ready for me. Simon ..."

She looked me in the eye, suddenly very serious.

"Yes?" I asked.

"When I left before, I said we could talk after I finished up the dinner crowd — that you could tell me if I was just being a ninny. But now I want to wait just one thing more. I want you to let me do this for you, at least this once, feeling like it means something before I learn just how ditzy I am."

Finally, my head got itself together and managed to hush the clamoring need from my groin.

"No," I said. Her hand went over her mouth and her eyes almost instantly teared up, but I quickly grabbed her other wrist and tugged her a step closer, though the motion made me dizzy. "No, I don't mean, 'No, I'm not going to let you do it.' I mean, 'No, I'm not going to let you think you're ditzy.' Why would you think that, Leyna? Why would you think it at all?"

Unbalanced by my pull on her wrist, or maybe unsteady on her feet for some other reason, she stumbled a brief step forward and then twisted to half-sit and half-fall onto the bed next to me. The tears rolled down her cheeks now.

"Well, because you're a man of far travels and learning and some kind of great important business, and I'm a barmaid and trollop who spreads her legs for any wainsman that happens to pass through town needing an itch scratched."

Her breathing had turned fast and uneven. In her eyes swam a blue and heavenly disbelief. I let go her wrist and lifted myself as best I could to reach behind her head and pull her in for a kiss, my fingers in the short silk of her blonde hair.

Those eyes closed, and her lips met mine. The touch of them made me float — at least as much as the week of venom-spawned hallucinations, if not more. Maybe I still hadn't regained my senses, but it was like no kiss I'd ever had. Sweet beyond sweet. Soft, and nervous, but strengthening, steadying. A sigh of the flesh, pure in its contentedness, meaningful and warm and transporting all at once. Leyna whimpered against me. I realized my arms had gone around her without me noticing. Her gentle, rich shape conformed to mine, breasts against my chest, hands on my shoulders, light and graceful in caresses of wonderment.

We kissed until I could barely breath.

When it broke, she eased back, lips parted, eyes still shut for the space of several heartbeats. I watched her, waited, was rewarded with those long-lashed eyelids rising to let her beautiful, kind, lively,puregaze meet mine.

"Leyna," I said, brushing her golden bangs to one side, "when I say I've never met anyone like you, Isocompletely mean it. You're not a ninny, or daft — not by miles. And you're certainly not a trollop. You're clever and keen and gorgeous and decent almost beyond belief. I've been dying to kiss you since maybe the second or third time we spoke. You're amazing."

Her smile started small but broadened, merging silly and flattered and affectionate into a single set of wondrous pink curves. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then hiccupped and shut it again.

In the silence that followed, a low, swollen pain asserted itself in my lap where I realized my erection remained stubbornly engorged and tender.

"Um ... the bad news is, when you left last time, I wanked it, like you told me to, and I came in maybe half a heartbeat. And then I kept coming so long it started to hurt. Plus, I'm still really woozy. I'd really like our first time to be better than that."

She patted my cheek. "Ohh, poor Simon. I suppose my cunt can wait a few days longer to get a proper pronging."

The strain in my groin made my eyes roll. "Oww ... please don't say things like that. My dick and balls can't take it."

Laughing, she took hold of the sheets I'd pulled up to my sternum. "Let's give them some relief then, why don't we? May I have a mouthful of your manhood, please?"

My erection wouldn't have let me say 'no' even if I'd wanted to. I just nodded, and she smiled and drew the covers down past my knees. Unleashed, my boner sprang up so quicky it flung a drop of precum loose to land on my thigh.

"Goodness me!" she exclaimed, staring at the cum-crusty trails and blotches all over the sheets and my upper legs. "You really did let loose, didn't you?"

"Uh-huh," I said, half-watching her and half-watching the purple-crowned pylon jutting up from my pubes. "It was crazy. Have you seriously been swallowing that much every time ...?"

She bit her lower lip and gave a single quick nod. "I made sure to ask Healer Sylva if it was safe first, of course, in case the poison might squirt out along with it somehow or taint it. But once she said there'd be no harm, I didn't let a drop go to waste."

"I really wouldn't have been offended if you'd spat any out."

"Of course not — you'd never even have guessed I'd been nursing at your spigot except for that one time you woke up." She rolled her eyes and slid from the mattress to the floor, where she knelt and arranged herself maddeningly near my waving erection. "But ... I wanted to have something of you in me, warming me, Simon. As much of it as I could get — in case I never got any more, after you had your health back."

"You're so beautiful, Leyna," I told her quietly. She smiled, blushing, and leaned her mouth a little closer to the tip of my dick. "Um — I'm warning you, though, this is going to go really quick, if it's anything like the last time."

Pursing her lips, she blew gently across the belly of my cock, still sticky with dried semen. It immediately disgorged a fresh flow of precum.

"Never you worry," she said with a smile. "Thiswon'tbe anything like the last time."

And with that, she let her jaw open and eased her lips into contact with my tip — then bent farther, and farther, at an incredibly slow pace that lowered the soft curtain of her mouth around me feather-light and summer-breeze warm. Still, my cock did its very best to strain up to the brim of explosive climax — tightening, hardening, pulsing out yet more precum. I saw Leyna's throat move with a subtle swallow. Each breath that left her nose felt like a miracle of caressing fellatio.

Down and down she moved, as if racing a glacier and trying to come in second place. A quarter of my trembling erection disappeared through her lips, then half, then three-quarters. Somehow, if possible, she slowed even further for the last little stretch to my root, but finally she got there, touching down at the base of my rod like a dandelion seed. Her nose rested in the sandy curls of my pubic hair, breathing in, breathing out.