So Say The Seasons – Chapter 6

            Elwen and Maronette choose to wear somewhat discreet attire for their afternoon on the riverside. Fortunately, the rain that had been falling on the city in varying intensities, from light hail to torrential downpours, had eased up during the night, and that morning the skies had woken up bright. The sun comes out with a vengeance over the city by mid-afternoon. The cobblestones are dry, but the dust remains trapped in the slightly wet mud between the rocks. One can’t wish for more perfect conditions to visit the working-class neighbourhood in the middle of the week, as the carts wheeling about don’t kick up dust into the air, but neither are one’s boots more prone to slip on the wet rock and lead to a painful landing on one’s ass. Maronette is dressed in a simple navy-blue military-style tunic, though lacking any badges or insignia, making it a civilian outfit for all intents and purposes, wearing it over riding pants of matching colour tucked into cavalry boots. She doesn’t carry her sabre with her to avoid too much attention, but a military dagger is still visible, stuck in her belt.

            Elwen, on the other hand, has opted to remain fashionable, wearing a gentleman’s maroon suit with a cravat of the same colour, marked by a red gem brooch in the middle. A silk white shirt beneath it, matching white lace gloves and a maroon cloche hat. Her skirt is plaid, featuring a forest green, red, and black pattern, and she wears practical maroon leather flat-sole boots underneath it all. If it weren’t for Maronette’s long hair tied up above her head in a bun, people would be forgiven for looking at them at a glance and thinking they are just a young soldier taking the woman he is sweet on for a wholesome mid-afternoon stroll while he is on leave. But this is no stroll, and there is nothing wholesome about their plans for the day. The first stop is Jinzo’s Emporium, a shady business that operates conveniently near the river harbour, which means that if anyone wants to smuggle illegal merchandise, they may use that as a front, which makes it not hard to haul cargo in the dead of night between the wharf and the store. Which, Elwen is sure, is part of the point behind the Black Rune Club’s interest in the unassuming shop.

            It is a sturdy but crude and simple woodwork construction with a plaque that announces the business’s name painted in white, which isn’t the sort of shop one might expect to trade in gold items. Still, anyone coming inside will see the seal of approval of the goldsmith’s guild prominently displayed on a wooden plaque leaning against the wall from a shelf, between unlabelled bottles of spirits and literal flasks of Jinzo’s Miraculous Cure-All Potion, which are gathering cobwebs. Jinzo himself is a ratty little man behind the counter, with a long neck, a sharp chin, and a wispy moustache and beard. He wears a very grey suit, which is grey in a specific way, where it is hard to say if it is just undyed and evenly filthy or if it has just been done with a cheap dye that lost its lushness and gloss over time. He has a glove in one hand, but not the other, and wears a monocle, even though it is easy to see there is no lens there.

            “Oh, welcome, welcome… Clients, yes, yes… Come right in. What can Jinzo do for you?”

            “More like, what can we do for Jinzo... And by that, I mean what have we already done,” Elwen speaks, gesturing with her head towards the goldsmith guild’s certification plaque.

            “Oh! I see. The funniest thing is that I’ve been trying to get certified for weeks, and the guild wouldn’t even acknowledge me. Now, it seems, they just decided to award me this certification. No inspection, even!”

            Jinzo chuckles, but for Elwen, it is no laughing matter. She wants him to be done. She is tired of being made to run the Black Rune’s errands and wants to make clear she has delivered on her end and expects them to do the same.

            “Funny how that works. Next time you visit the Springtide temple, make sure to tithe the gods properly to show your gratitude. I recommend doing so in the one by Imperial Park. The priestess there is a close personal friend,” Elwen explains.

            Maronette just stands behind her like a quiet sentinel, and Elwen can see Jinzo’s eyes darting between the two of them as he nods too many times and too fast, emphatically agreeing.

            “Oh yes, yes. She’s a friend of mine, too. A mutual friend, then.”

            “Seems that way. Maybe let our mutual friend know of your good fortunes, and I’m sure they will be happy to hear.”

            “Of course, ma’am. I wouldn’t want to do things any other way.”

            Elwen is content that it is a painless exchange. She takes a glance around Jinzo’s so-called Emporium. A number of curios, relics and assorted items make it more of a general store, except that more things there are of dubious utility. She supposes that it is useful for a place like that to carry a bit of everything so that no particular item might be too suspicious if he has to hold it for someone.

            “I shall be on my way then. Good luck with your business, Jinzo.”

            “And best luck with your future endeavours as well, ma’am,” Jinzo says, removing the top hat to display a bald spot that occupies the top half of his head. By the time they step back into the streets, Maronette sighs in relief.

            “I don’t know why, but I was expecting complications. I’m glad I was wrong.”

            “I know why. You are always expecting complications,” Elwen says categorically.

            “That may be. But that’s a positive quality in a bodyguard, wouldn’t you say?”

            “Oh, without a doubt, dearest. Plus, stern and cautious is a good look on you.”

            Maronette blushes slightly, and Elwen has the impulse to toss her arms around her, but in such a public venue, that is likely not a good idea. Instead, she makes a gesture for them to start walking:

            “Shall we, dearest?”

            “Where to?” Maronette asks.

            Elwen chuckles; it isn’t even a clever attempt at evading their next appointment, but she will still give Maronette credit for trying.

            “You know very well where to, Maron. Unless growing a cock has been giving you faulty memory.”

            Maronette’s blush deepens until her face is vividly red, and she just begins to walk, never properly responding to that last tease, but her certain steps confirm that she indeed knows exactly where they are going.

            The address Natalie has provided them leads to an apartment above a leatherwork shop, and the smell of leather, which is rather pleasant, Elwen thinks, greets them from the moment they turn a corner. The whole street is formed by three or four-storey buildings constructed wall-to-wall, with shops and pubs on the first floor, and small, discreet doors in between them, which the residents of the upper floors use to get home without going through the businesses. Back in the times of suits of armour, knights and chainmail, those streets were home to blacksmiths and furnaces, and thus they earned the name Blackstreet, due to the soot and black dust that clung to the walls. The city had long grown in another direction, but Blackstreet’s name remained there as a reminder of the past, just like the main pub on the street, named the Hammer and Anvil, which features a fitting plaque, for those who can’t read, to identify it. Natalie’s apartment is the attic room above the Hammer and Anvil.

            Generally, attic rooms are the cheaper ones to rent in tall buildings, as the stairs present a formidable barrier to cross every time one wants to get in and out of the house. And while some wealthy families, like the Eutarions, might have steam or weight-powered lifts, that isn’t a luxury found in any residential building in Riverside. They reach the moss green door next to the Hammer and Anvil, and Elwen wonders for a moment if there’s a point in even knocking, considering Natalie lives on the third floor and is unlikely to hear. The proper way is to simply call from the street to the upper floors, but that sounds both like it will attract too much attention and look undignified.

            Fortunately, another resident, a woman in her forties, walks past them and unlocks the green door. And then looks at the two other women with a quizzical expression.

            “We are here to see Natalie in the attic room. She’s expecting us.”

            “Natalie? Oh, Red? Yes, yes… I forgot her name. We all just call her Red,” the woman says warmly. “Come on in, please.”

            And just like that, they gain access to the narrow, steep stairs that lead to the shared corridors between apartments, and they climb all of them to reach the fourth, attic floor. There, right where the stairs end, is an arched-top door with a round hole in the middle. Elwen steps aside and gestures for Maronette to do the honours. The bodyguard knocks and waits. Footsteps don’t take long to approach the door, and the round hole opens. Elwen can hear the surprised gasp in Natalie’s voice as she sees Maronette standing in front of her door.

            “Oh… Maroonie…” Natalie sounds positively surprised, and Elwen is at least a little happy that the little minx wasn’t sure Maronette would show up. “Come on in, let me…”

            And then Elwen hears a lock being unlatched. She’s about to move out of her concealed spot beside the door when she hears another, and then a third one, and a fourth. And finally, the door creaks open. Maronette looks positively blushed and awkward, and Elwen understands the reason pretty quickly. She emerges from the other side of the door to find Natalie standing there in a, no doubt stolen, expensive silk robe, short enough to end before her knees, and with sleeves that end by her elbow and drape down. It’s teal in colour, and the fabric draws perfectly against her petite, skinny frame with hints of athleticism. One side of the robe has slipped off, deliberately or not, and exposes one of Natalie’s breasts. But at the sight of Elwen, she first frowns and then quickly pulls that back to conceal her breast.

            “Oh… Elwen… I did not see you there.”

            “No, you wouldn’t have,” Elwen agrees. “May we come in? Or was the invitation only to my wife?”

            Natalie seems like she considers, for a second, responding to Elwen’s question in a similar tone as it was posed, but ultimately, she shakes her head, steps aside and gestures.

            “Come on in, then. Both of you, I suppose.”

            “Thank you very much, Natalie.”

            Maronette gives Natalie an apologetic shrug as she follows Elwen inside, and Natalie closes the door behind them both. One, two, three, four locks. She must be really paranoid, Elwen thinks to herself, but then again, in her line of work, that is probably warranted.

            The attic is soon well-lit by several mansard windows and skylights that bathe it in the glow of the afternoon sun, and it is rather warm, even on that mild autumn day. Elwen thinks that it must be pleasant in winter but likely hellish in summer to inhabit it. Natalie’s furniture is cheap and mostly simple, but the décor in her place includes a few expensive items, no doubt subtracted from a rich mark’s house; portraits of people she’s not related to leaning against the wall, expensive and rare-looking vases and candle holders without candles but made of silver or pewter and richly adorned. Natalie’s bed is a large couple’s bed of solid but simple craftsmanship, and above the headboard, there’s a round wooden target with several throwing knives stuck on it. She has cut out a portion of a nobleman’s portrait and stuck it on the target, from head to bust. One knife stuck in each eye makes it clear how she feels about blue blood. Natalie points to a set of couches and chairs that look expensive and don’t match each other, for the two to sit down. Elwen sits down beside Maronette, and Natalie remains standing, studying the two of them with uncertainty.

            “So, what do I owe this very, very,” she hits those words emphatically in a rather bratty way, “very unexpected visit?”

            “Oh, Natalie… How can this be unexpected, when we have been invited?” Elwen coos as she gestures to Maronette.

            Maronette frowns at Elwen making her a part of her teasing and taunting game, but she does reach into her jacket pocket and produces the address Natalie gave Maronette along with a kiss.

            “Your invitation to my wife to come have some intimate parlay; a booty-summons, as the youth may say.” Elwen points to the note. “Surely I was included in that?”

            Natalie blushes and folds her arms, visibly upset but also a bit apologetic about being caught in her attempt to get Maronette to double-time Elwen. Elwen smirks, there’s some enjoyment in seeing her embarrassment when she’s confronted with what she intended to do, but she also can’t deny that the sight of Natalie’s body under that robe has done something to her, and as she folds her arms, she pushes the fabric tight against her body, drawing the outline of her small perky breasts and causing the hem to climb just an inch higher, exposing her legs. Elwen’s eyes briefly go towards Maronette, and she finds her lover remains flushed, but her gaze seems to be directed towards Natalie as well, equally appraising her in such a state of undress. Elwen feels a pang of jealousy at that, but she reminds herself that she was doing much of the same a second before. It doesn’t help with the feeling, but it prevents her from acting out on it.

            “So, was this visit just an excuse to shame me, or are you going to challenge me to a duel?” Natalie inquires, with a light frown.

            Most of her glare is directed at Maronette as if she is communicating without words that she is particularly disappointed that her former friend and lover would do that. Elwen can see Maronette about to speak, and she jumps ahead to talk first, thereby maintaining control of the situation.

            “Actually… I was being facetious, but there was some sincerity in what I said,” Elwen explains.

            “What are you saying?”

            “I’m saying that while I’m not fond of you trying to persuade my wife to go behind my back, I would be open to something less underhanded.”

            “I still don’t follow,” Natalie says, confused. “You… Want to watch us?”

            “Well, not just watch,” Elwen speaks categorically, and then she touches Maronette’s thighs. “I want to be a part of it.”

            Natalie’s expression displays the exact moment in which she understands what is being said around her, and her face slowly shifts from confusion to understanding and then full realisation, which comes accompanied by a deep red tint to her freckled cheeks and a puffing of her nipples, that push through the silk fabric of the stolen robe.

            “I… I see… And you’re alright with that, Maronette?” Natalie asks the guard.

            Elwen bites her lips nervously. Maronette took a lot of convincing to get to that point, and now, if she is to hesitate, to seem unsure or to tell Natalie outright no, not only will their best chance to see the girl’s mark be gone, but Natalie will no doubt find ways to make a mockery of Elwen’s presumptive approach. Maronette swallows dryly for a moment, and then she nods, speaking:

            “I’ll admit, it’s more than a little strange to me. But if my wife is willing to let me feel close to you like that again, Natalie, I think it would be foolish of me not to take her on it,” Maronette says, and Elwen feels again that sting of jealousy in how sincere the words sound. “I miss you.”

            At those three words, Elwen feels that jealousy boiling dangerously close to the surface. Maybe Maronette was right, and this is a terrible idea? Just hearing her say, in such a heartfelt way, that she misses her former paramour is a terrible pain. Will she be able to endure it? Well, it was all her idea, in the end, and she had had to talk Maronette into it. Is she stubborn enough to go through with it just to not walk back on her own confident bragging about being able to take it? The answer, of course, is yes.

            And then Maronette takes Elwen’s hand to her lips and kisses the knuckles before she gets up from the couch and crosses the distance between her and Natalie. Natalie looks even a bit intimidated by the sudden approach and takes half a step back, but Maronette simply reaches for her face, grabs it with both hands and pushes her lips onto Natalie’s. Elwen watches as Maronette pushes Natalie back, kissing her with a fiery passion, and she knows her lover and bodyguard is no thespian, and she couldn’t be faking it. The jealousy is there, of course; it never wanes or diminishes, but in watching them kiss, she feels something else. And then the smaller woman is pinned with her back against the wall, and her leg rises behind Maronette’s thighs, wrapping her ankle around one of her shins. Maronette’s hands reach for Natalie’s wrists and lift them overhead, pinning them against the wall. The sight causes a warmth to spread down between Elwen’s legs. Sure, her lover is kissing someone else, and that aches, but she had previously been on the receiving end of Maronette’s passion and seeing it play out evokes all sorts of emotions. Part of her actively enjoys how easily her lover has ‘tamed’ and imposed herself on the little, petite girl. Maronette breaks the seal of lips and holds Natalie against the wall, maintaining intense eye contact as Natalie utters with a throaty voice of arousal:

            “Fuck…”

            ‘Fuck indeed,’ Elwen thinks, getting up and starting to unbutton her suit and unlace her cravat. Watching Maronette kiss her is so intense that she almost contemplates the idea of simply staying back and letting the two of them have the first bout on their own. But as she’s pulling off her gloves, Maronette turns from the wall and grabs Elwen’s hand, pulling her closer to the two of them. The bodyguard’s hand holds the back of Elwen’s neck and hooks her into a loving kiss, burning with passion. Her mouth tastes different, and it takes a second for Elwen to realise she is tasting Natalie on her wife’s lips and tongue. And that sends a shudder of arousal down her spine. She kisses Maronette back. Hard. Their tongues fighting a fierce battle or locked into an aggressive dance. And by the time Maronette pulls away from the kiss, she turns around and places herself behind Elwen, and with a hand on the woman’s shoulder, she pushes her towards Natalie.

            Elwen watches as those green eyes come close and then feels Natalie’s hand grab her silk shirt and pull her in, and soon their mouths connect. She kisses differently from Maronette. Her lips take a more leading role, even after she pushes out her tongue into Elwen’s mouth. It massages and plays with Elwen’s, and she moves her petite and warm body onto the singer’s at every moment during the kiss. Elwen pushes her thigh between Natalie’s legs, and she feels the girl grinding against her leg as she presses her chest onto Elwen’s. And then Maronette’s voice whispers into Elwen’s ear from behind, just as her hands grab her wife’s hips:

            “See? We all just have to play nice…”

            Oh, she should not have said that. Elwen growls, and she pushes Maronette back with her own back, grabbing Natalie’s waist and roughly yanking her from the wall to shove her back-first onto her bed. The teal robe opens in the rough handling and exposes Natalie’s tattooed skin across her stomach, and the shaven and hairless state of her sex. Her petals glisten with arousal, and Elwen wastes no time in tossing herself on the bed, over her, to have her fingers find the wet folds of her sex and, not too gently, she strokes along the length of her slit, palm pressing over the girl’s sensitive button and aggressively grinding as she strokes. Forcing Natalie to moan, grab the sheets and arch her hips, to raise them into the air as if presenting her cunt more openly to Elwen’s touch.

            Elwen can’t admit it to Maronette, or even to herself in most cases, but she thinks about the moment she saw the little thief naked when they went hunting at Eutarion’s villa. A small part of her ached to touch that body in front of her, to feel it, and to passionately have her on the rich girl’s bed. She didn’t, of course, but she wonders if a small part of Natalie felt the same way. If the redhead’s attraction is limited to her wife, or if a part of her might crave the singer, too. And standing there, more or less fully clothed, on top of the almost entirely naked girl, being both taller than her, and having her pleasure literally in her hand, Elwen feels powerful and in control, and her jealousy melts away. And as it does, all that is left is desire.

            “I want you to come for me, you little minx,” Elwen whispers, crass and bossy, in Natalie’s ear.

            The thief’s only response is to grab her own breast, bite her lips and push her hips forward into Elwen’s hand, grinding herself even faster against it. Elwen continues to keep her palm pressed against the girl’s clit and then plunges two fingers inside her, index and ring fingers. Her sex quivers, her thighs contract and her hips jerk in a couple of sudden motions. Her orgasm comes with the loveliest little high-pitched mewling moan, much different from Maronette’s own sounds, and Elwen feels an intoxicating rush of power in having so forcibly extracted that from her.

            As Natalie pants and tries to recover, Elwen pulls her soaked fingers from between the other woman’s legs, and she turns to find Maronette has undressed in the meantime and is just stepping out of her pooled pants at her feet to join them on the bed. She takes Elwen’s wrist and pulls the fingers towards her mouth, tasting Natalie’s nectar from Elwen’s digits before the singer pulls her lover into a kiss, so that they may share that taste as well.

            Elwen ends up on her fours, crawling over a naked Maronette who rests her weight on her elbows as she kisses her, but she is still mostly dressed. And as she and the guard kiss, Natalie seems to have recovered from the afterglow of her climax. She places herself behind Elwen and asks in a mischievous voice:

            “Is this an expensive shirt?”

            Elwen can’t respond without breaking contact with Maronette’s lips, and before she can do so, Natalie grabs at the woman’s shirt’s collar, and Elwen feels the cold touch of sharp steel against her neck. It sends a shudder of fear, and that cold sensation mixes with the warm pulses of arousal to produce something intoxicating. Danger and desire mingling together. Natalie has fetched a dagger from somewhere, maybe a throwing knife among those stuck near the headboard, and she uses it to cut open the back of Elwen’s shirt, and then the hem of her skirt. The feeling of fabric giving in and breaking as she kisses her lover, and is forcefully disrobed by the thief, sends another jolt of arousal across Elwen’s body.

            Natalie kneels behind her, much like a man would if she were about to enter her, but instead of a cock, she brings her fingers to bear against Elwen. The pad of her thumb teasing the ring of muscles on Elwen’s rear as her index and middle fingers stroke up and down across her sex, coating themselves in the singer’s nectar before plunging inside her. Natalie’s free hand holds Elwen’s hips in place as she pushes back and forth with her fingers, which together are about as thick as she felt Maronette’s magic cock to be, and the association with those memories, more than the penetrative act itself, causes surges of warmth to crash and wane like waves inside the singer, each leaving her a little closer to climax. And Natalie doesn’t relent until Elwen has to break from the kiss to moan in a crescendo. Maronette, thirsty for her lover’s taste, kisses her neck and collar as she moans, and then reaches for her breasts, and the combination of stimuli finally sends her over the edge. Her thighs tremble and seem to grow limp, and she would surely have fallen if it weren’t for Natalie holding her hips in place and fingering her into, but also through and out of her climax, making it last much longer. It’s a body-rocking orgasm, which makes her nipples tingle, her toes curl and fills her with a sudden tightness that only loosens when the contractions of her quivering sex finally cease.

            Elwen collapses to the side of Maronette, panting and lying on her back as she looks at the ceiling and feels that fluttering, that glorious buzzing and limpness that spreads through her body in the immediate aftermath of her orgasm. And as she lies there, she watches as Natalie crawls from her kneeling position forward, to lie on Maronette’s side and pulls the bodyguard’s face towards her into a soft and loving kiss. The contrast between the way Elwen and the redhead had treated each other, and the soft tenderness of that kiss, is stark, and the singer feels her jealousy returning, yet now it’s different. Less than a possessive feeling about Maronette and perhaps more like a growing jealousy of both women. She kicks off her boots, removes the rest of her cut-out gloves and moves to lie on the other side of Maronette, mirroring Natalie.

            As the thief’s hands sink between Maronette’s legs and gently caress and stroke her sex, Elwen shifts to kiss and worship Maronette’s breasts, circling her nipple with her tongue, pulling it tight into her mouth and sucking against it, and sometimes delivering soft love bites that cause the guard to hiss. Natalie, in turn, shifts her fingers to a faster, more intense pace, and she eyes Elwen over Maronette’s body to nuzzle on the guard’s neck and lick her skin. And Maronette is barely able to move between the two women competing with each other with her body and pleasure as their battleground. When Elwen pulls her into a kiss, Natalie shifts down to have her own turn worshipping her breasts; when Natalie’s hand departs Maronette’s sex, Elwen’s is quick to take her place. And at that moment, she finds the thief’s fingers being shoved into her lips and pumped obscenely. And just as Maronette writhes, thrashes and finally finds her own climax, she’s treated to the sight of Elwen and her former lover kissing passionately just above her face, her juices mixing inside their mouths, and the kiss performed with passion, but also in a deliberate way to her benefit, with their mouths just an inch apart so she could watch their tongues pressing against each other and see each grazing of teeth across lips, and each sucking and biting.

            And then, as Maronette comes down from the heights of her orgasm, their encounter reaches a small moment of calmness, as Natalie and Elwen break away from their kiss and the trio of women adjust to take a moment to catch their breath. Maronette in the middle of them as Natalie and Elwen lay on their sides, fingers idly playing with Maronette’s body.

            “Not such a bad idea after all, hm?” Elwen coos playfully.

            “What? You didn’t want to do this?” Natalie asks, frowning in surprise.

            “I… I wasn’t sure…” Maronette admits, still breathy, her chest rising and falling visibly. “I was concerned that… Elwen would get too jealous. Or that you would.”

            Natalie and Elwen both frown at those words, neither too happy about the implication that they wouldn’t be able to handle it, and as they do, they catch each other with mirrored expressions. So, they laugh openly. They are different in many ways, but there are clearly things in which they are nearly painfully alike. And just as Elwen thinks that, Natalie coos:

            “Seems like you have a thing for fiery women, Maroonie.”

            “Well… Can you blame me?”

            Natalie shakes her head and reaches out to caress Elwen’s face and tucks a bit of hair behind her ear.

            “No, not really… I can see what you see in her.”

            “Well, part of what I see in her,” Maronette corrects, “I’m just… Glad nobody got stabbed.”

            “Oh, sweetie,” Natalie teases and leans to kiss Maronette briefly on the lips. “It’s way too early to be relieved.”

            Elwen chuckles at the jest and nods in heartfelt agreement.

            “I’ll say. Maybe not a good idea to do this when there are so many knives around…” And she eyes her torn clothes, tossed on the floor.

            “Ah… Sorry about that. I can get a bit carried away.”

            “Don’t be,” Elwen says categorically, “it was fun.”

            Natalie reaches down to peck this time at Elwen’s lips, and then she concedes with a light sigh.

            “I won’t lie… I was a bit upset to hear Maronette had tied her wagon to someone else’s when she reached out. But, well, I’m glad it was someone like you. She’s a bit, uh…”

            “Too in her head?”

            “Yeah, exactly!”

            “Girls… I’m still here,” Maronette says as they talk about her.

            “Oh yes, poor Maronette. Stuck between two naked ladies who are dying to please her. Must be real torture,” Elwen fakes melodramatic concern.

            Natalie chuckles as well, and Elwen bites her lips, rolling on her back and focusing her attention on her hand and her crotch. She remembers the incantations and whispers a few words, and wisps of light emerge from her fingertips to congeal around her sex and cause her clit to swell. The familiar spell is a known sight for Maronette, but Natalie seems fascinated, even shocked, to watch as her flesh warps and expands, pulsing and turning into a cock. A soft one, admittedly, with a smooth shaft and a not too pronounced head, but slightly bigger than the one she often conjured for Maronette, and it twitches pleasantly between Elwen’s legs. The sensation of having it is a novelty; it is a warm, demanding sensation between her legs, craving to be touched. There’s a soft tingle that runs all its length, intensified at each throbbing, and Elwen realises why men often act so stupid out of desire. She can think of little she won’t do just to have it touched, kissed or caressed by either of the women.

            “Oh… That’s… New,” Natalie says, “I… I didn’t know magic could do that.”

            “Well… It can,” Elwen reports gladly, “so, why d-“

            She never finishes the sentence, as Natalie moves across Maronette to lean down and grab the base of Elwen’s cock with her hand, guiding the tip to her lips and immediately starting to suck it. Elwen shudders and gasps in surprise. Finding not simply the contact of her lips pleasant, but her enthusiasm for it rather arousing. Maronette smirks and slides from underneath Natalie to give her former lover better access to her current lover’s magically grown manhood.

            “F-Fuck… You… You really know what you’re doing…” Elwen praises quietly as her hands curl around the sheets and she pulls on them, writhing in enjoyment.

            Natalie doesn’t respond, except with a muffled moan of enjoyment. Still, Maronette continues to move until she’s positioned behind the girl, and she holds Natalie’s shoulder and hips to gently guide her away from Elwen’s cock, and back onto her knees. And then forward, until her shaven, tattoo-framed sex is hovering above that twitching, wet cock.

            “I’m glad to see you two getting along…” Maronette coos softly and uses her hand to dip between Natalie’s legs and spread her open, guiding her down onto Elwen’s waiting member.

            Elwen is overwhelmed with the warm sensation of being engulfed by another woman’s cunt. Is it what every man feels, or has her magic made it special? Not that it matters. The warmth and tightness of Natalie’s sex causes her to squirm. From the sheets, her hands go to the girl’s hips and hold onto them as Natalie begins to rise and fall, riding Elwen at a slow, indulgent pace.

            “Fuck… That feels… So good,” Elwen calls.

            “I want to say you get used to it, but… Not really,” Maronette offers, wisely.

            “W-Wait…” Natalie calls, eyes closed, running her hands across her body. “You… Also had it done on you?”

            “A few times,” Maronette confesses, kissing Natalie’s neck from behind.

            Even though Elwen is inside Maronette’s former lover, seeing how her hand caresses Natalie’s waist, her breasts, and how she kisses her neck, fills her with a new dose of jealousy. Does it simply never go away? But as Elwen has her answer, Natalie begins to move up and down faster in her riding, wet sounds of impact rising from where her sex hilts on Elwen’s cock.

            “C-Can… Can you give her one now?” she asks Elwen, opening her eyes halfway to look at the singer as she makes her request.

            “I mean… I can… But I thought you were enjoying this…?”

            “Oh… I am,” Natalie says, lowering herself fully down, taking Elwen completely inside herself and holding her there to move her hips into a back-and-forth grinding motion. Elwen writhes and moans. “I don’t want this to stop… I want… More…”

            Elwen understands it after a moment, and she bites her lip at the utterly obscene nature of that request. And then she weaves her fingers and utters the enchanting words the best she can, though her voice trembles from Natalie’s non-stop grinding motions. Maronette seems just as surprised by the suggestion, but she doesn’t protest it. Only moans as the light consolidated around her crotch and her own clit begins to warp, expand and grow, swelling bigger than it has before. Elwen’s mastery of the spell visibly improving as Maronette’s new cock pushes out and springs upwards, slightly arched up in its fully erect state. Yet the trembling in Elwen’s voice seems to have caused some quirks in the magic. The shaft has a darker colour, and etched on it, like tattoos, are arcane symbols.

            Maronette looks down at her own cock and considers mentally if those are signs that she should worry about. Elwen can’t see what she has created from the angle where she is, and Natalie has her back to her. The slightly bigger size isn’t an issue, but the strange runic symbols could potentially be, especially because, while they don’t hurt, they seem to glow slightly whenever her cock pulses. But before she can say anything, Natalie pushes her ass back in those grinding motions, and it brushes against the manhood. She moans in excited anticipation.

            “Maroonie… I want you to… Fuck me with it,” she begs, reaching back to grab Maronette’s neck and pull her into a kiss. “Be inside me at the same time as your wife.”

            Elwen moans in a way that Maronette can only take as approval, and lust overcomes her good sense. She kisses Natalie’s back and reaches down between her legs, collecting her own arousal in her hands and then stroking her cock with it, to soak it with her nectar. She moans against Natalie’s mouth and pushes the head against the tight ring of muscles of Natalie’s rear.

            “I’m… A virgin there…” she whispers to Maronette, between mischievous and nervous.

            Maronette swallows dryly and feels her heart racing. She pushes slowly, just an inch, just the head, within Natalie, and as she does so, she can feel the thief contract reflexively.

            “Shh…” Elwen calls softly, “It’s alright… Relax… Maronette knows to… T-Take it slow.”

            “Will it… Hurt too much?” Natalie breaks the kiss to lean forward, towards Elwen.

            It simultaneously gives Maronette a better angle to enter her, but also puts her close to the singer as she begins to calm and comfort Natalie through it. Maronette smiles. She and Elwen had done it before, and it had been quite the experience, but it requires patience and talking. And now it seems Elwen has taken it upon herself to calm Natalie down and help her accept Maronette inside her. And the sight of the two in such an intimate exchange, more than any of the sexual acts between them, makes Maronette’s heart throb with happiness. At least they don’t hate each other anymore.

            She pushes another inch, and Natalie cries out, so she stops. Elwen takes her hand and shushes her, kissing her with a soft kiss that promises that the worst part is over. It is partially true. Once Maronette’s cock’s head has made it through, the rest could follow its lead and slide inside, in a slow but sure rhythm, and while Natalie’s legs tremble with effort and pain, she also moans in pleasure. And as Maronette is mostly inside her, she is surprised to feel something hard and throbbing pressing against the underside of her cock. And then she recognises it for what it is. Elwen. Their cocks throbbing together through the thin membrane of skin inside Natalie.

            “F-Fuck… I never felt… This full…” Natalie cries out.

            “Are you… Alright?” Maronette asks in concern.

            “Yes… Fuck yes…” Natalie says, overwhelmed. “Now… Fuck me hard and make me regret this t-tomorrow…”

            “Natalie… I…”

            “I can t-take it.”

            Maronette doesn’t doubt that she could, but she still doesn’t push as hard as she can. She withdraws slowly from inside her and then pushes back in faster, keeping that rhythm for a moment, until Elwen finds her own pace to thrust upwards into the mostly pinned Natalie. For a moment, the pace of their thrusts is mismatched and awkward, but soon they find a rhythm that works for both. A constant pumping so that Maronette is sliding inside whenever Elwen is pulling off. Natalie shudders and grabs onto the headboard.

            And that’s when Maronette sees it. That glowing mark across her buttocks. A tattoo that didn’t show up before. Glowing blue runes, they seem like a sigil of sorts, and despite the height of arousal, Maronette makes a point of memorising it, knowing she’d need to draw it at the first chance she got. A circle with a lightning pattern across it, ending in an arrow tip. And then she feels that harder throb, and her own cock twitches harder. She begins to drive faster into Natalie, and Elwen must’ve felt the same, as she also turns into a much faster rhythm. The overwhelmed thief between them bucks her hips forward and jerks her back into a sudden arching of her spine as she comes, moaning louder and more desperately than before. Her ass clenches around Maronette’s cock, and she buries herself deep inside her. Elwen mimics the motion, and the bodyguard feels a strange vibration, like a bubbling, from that cock pressing against her. She realises she’s feeling the seed travelling across Elwen’s member as it spills inside Natalie’s womb, and that sensation sends her over the edge. Those runes across her cock glow, and as it’s buried inside Natalie, all she can see is her own flesh around the base lighting up, before she spills herself inside the thief’s ass. A thick gush of seed, and then another. Natalie howls, and her initial orgasm drags in what for sure is a sequence of climaxes. Her body jerks and thrashes, and her hands finally lose grip on the headboard, so she collapses over Elwen.

            Maronette pulls from inside her, watching seed drip down from her slightly gaping ass and onto the folds of her sex still wrapped around Elwen’s cock. But Elwen’s own seed flows from the sides as her cock loses volume in the wake of coming, and it all drips down into a puddle on the bed.

            “F-Fuck…” Natalie says, sounding like she has had way too much to drink.

            “I know…” Elwen coos, also with a throaty voice weakened by the climax.

            Elwen looks towards Maronette, who gestures with her hand to confirm Elwen’s suspicion about the mark. The singer closes her eyes and nods.

            “I… I will need a moment before I can move,” Natalie says as she sags over Elwen’s body.

            “It’s alright… You can stay here on top of me,” Elwen offers, playing with the girl’s short hair.

            Maronette moves back from her position behind her former lover and reaches for her uniform on the ground. A sketch will need to do. She grabs the parchment and coal hidden in a pocket for that very purpose and draws her best approximation of what she saw, before tucking it back in and sitting at the edge of the bed.

            “I think… I could use a drink.”

            “Black cupboard, top shelf,” Natalie says.

            “Wine for me, if she has it,” Elwen adds.

            Maronette smirks and gets up. It feels weird to walk naked and free in her ex-lover’s apartment, with her wife still inside her, a few feet away. Weird, but perhaps in a good way. She goes to the cabinet to fetch the drinks, wondering if, after they have a moment to recover, they will be open for a second round.