New fiction new fiction new fiction!!! About time!
OK...not so much "new" as "stuff I haven't uploaded here yet," but still, I'm proud of myself. This blog isn't dead!
This one's my only stab at a totally original story so far...I have others I'm working on, but as hectic as my life gets (and being on a shared computer doesn't help), inspiration takes its sweet time to hit me with a 2x4 and MAKE me write.
Anyway, this one's pretty self-explanatory: a river spirit (who just happens to look like a sexy bald stud) needs to keep his water flowing. ^_^ Porns ensue.
I may continue this if I get enough feedback...
~*~
The River Lord felt, rather than heard, the first man beneath him cry out as his body convulsed one last time in ecstasy before going still. He felt pride swell in his breast as his loins pumped the his viscous seed into the willing entrance of the second. The third, he hadn’t even had to touch; watching a demigod bring two men under sexual submission had been more than enough to bring him to a shuddering climax, his manhood spasming and throbbing in his hand as he screamed soundlessly in the river’s cool, cerulean depths. After this, the River Lord thought with triumph, the three surface-dwelling chauvinists would never even lay eyes on another female.
As the humans floated to the river’s surface, gasping for breath, the River Lord was already gone, his essence merging with the stream to travel to another shore with another willing set of adventurers who’d heard the legends of the water-spirit, the master seducer who gave men the best sex of their lives before washing them ashore.
The truth was, he didn’t just crave sex, in the way mortals did. He needed it to survive. The flow of his river was dependent on the flow of his seed, and most of those who depended on the river to survive knew it.
There were some small villages on the banks who were skeptical of his nature. They were used to sending sacrifices to the Goddess of Water, slaughtering cattle and livestock needlessly to appease some aloof ice-queen of a deity. The fools. Thank the tides for the lovers in the village, who believed the riverside a wonderful place to have private trysts. No coincidence, that…there were times when the River Lord would take the form of a surfaceman and casually bring some young man to any of a hundred private places, concealed by trees and bushes, where he would tell the youth legends of the River Lord’s insatiable lust until his victim found himself naked and at his complete mercy. Depending on the nature of the man, he might reveal himself then, as he had with these three tale-chasers, and lead them into the waters themselves for an offering. Or he would simply continue to share tales while the boy pumped himself to a frantic, screaming climax, and make his offering that way.
It mattered not to the River Lord what happened to the seed of the males he seduced…just so long as their passions were given up to him, that was all that mattered.
And now, such passions were about to be shared anew. Travelling down the stream of his river, the Lord came to one of many pools where his waters would collect and be warmed by the sun, until they evaporated and went to join the rest of the river in its timeless, endless flow. Lying fast asleep in this pool was an irresistible lure…a muscular Garnet Elf, reddish-tan of skin and midnight black of hair, his body rippling in the dappled sunlight. Garnets, he knew, were more muscular than most breeds of elf, and were renowned for their empathic powers…not to mention their sexual stamina. A Garnet male could sexually satisfy a dozen humans before needing so much as a rest stop. They so loved what they did that their race would often leave the confines of their tropical island home in search of new and exciting sexual adventures, as much as for the traditional reasons mortals had for their escapades.
This one was a particularly fine specimen. Like most Garnet men, he had a fine sprinkling of black hair on his body, and a lustrous sheen to his reddish skin. He had the build of a natural-born swimmer, lean and defined, and when he stood to wash himself, the River Lord admired the spherical, muscular sculpt of his ass, dripping with his waters.
This was a prospect far too tempting to pass up. The River Lord assumed his human form, choosing not to bother with creating illusory garments this time, and hid in the shallows.
He saw the Garnet look up briefly, but remained hidden, camouflaging himself with his surroundings…he was a spirit of water, after all. When the muscular Elf seemed satisfied that he was alone, he returned to his bathing…though the River Lord noticed something different about the way he washed his body now.
Where before his scrubbing had been brisk and businesslike, now his movements were decidedly slower, and more graceful. His hands caressed his compact, tight muscles with every pass of the cloth, and when he rinsed himself, it would be a gradual process of pouring the water down every crevice and sculpted line of definition his body possessed.
As the River Lord watched, the elf crossed into a deeper part of the pool and let his nude body float, his manhood bobbing to the surface like the mast of some great ship risen from the deep. The River Lord had to suppress a groan of desire at the sight…it was an impressive endowment, swollen and red, perfectly shaped and nestled in a patch of glistening, blue-black pubic hair, with round, heavy balls bobbing behind it in the pool. As he watched, the Garnet Elf ran his hands over his body with groans of amorous pleasure, then wrapped a lean, strong hand around the base of the shaft and looked directly at him, his deep, honey-brown eyes softening in wordless invitation.
For a second, the immortal cursed. How could he have been spotted?! Then, he remembered the Garnet gift of empathy, and smiled ruefully to himself. Of course. After a moment’s thought, he realized that the mortal was in the right; this offering would be much more enjoyable if he participated.
Becoming visible to the Garnet’s eyes, the River Lord displayed himself proudly from the shallows. His skin was a dark silver-tan, with a grainy cast to it, like sparkling sand at the bottom of a riverbed. He was completely bald, the only hair he sported on his body a thatch of glittering silver pubic hair nestled at the base of his own considerable endowment. His balls rested on the surface of the water, thick and heavy with pent-up seed…even though it hadn’t yet been an hour since he’d come last, he was always thirsty for more sex, and always ready to bring his partners to the orgasms he craved.
The River Lord swam to the Garnet’s side and embraced him in his own powerful arms, kissing him hotly, passionately. The Garnet’s skin was smooth and hot, while the River Lord seemed to be made of solid water, hard and unyielding as ice, but radiating the warmth of a hot spring. Steam began to coalesce around them as they kissed…not enough to burn the mortal’s flesh, but enough to heighten his senses and overwhelm him with the torrid humidity of their encounter.
The River Lord rose up in the water until his flagpole erection was level with the Garnet’s mouth, and the red-skinned male engulfed it, bathing it with his tongue as slowly and expertly as he had bathed his own body. The River Lord closed his eyes and let out a groan of ecstasy, his voice low and sensual as it sent a thrill of ecstasy through the Garnet’s body. For his part, the Elf displayed his people’s amazing carnal skills by swallowing the River Lord’s impressive mast all the way to the hilt, with a little freedom of movement left to run his tongue lovingly over the silver-furred balls.
The River Lord had been saving this load for a special occasion…normally when he wasn’t coaxing offerings of lust out of some unwitting male, he was masturbating, using his hands to bring forth his seed and perpetuate the river’s flow with his own power, again and again, without more than a few moments’ letup. But for the last hour, this being of perpetual lust and gratification had not so much as touched his cock…for a River Lord, a gesture of supreme willpower.
But even his willpower had its limits. With a grunt of ecstasy, he shot into the warm, willing mouth, his seed tasting like the purest waterfall as it flowed down the Elf’s throat. The raven-haired mortal gave out a moan of appreciation and gulped it down, unwilling to let even the smallest drop go to waste.
Once he let go of the River Lord’s cock, he swam naked to the shallows and lay down in them, spreading his legs wide as he eyed the River Lord wordlessly. His wonderfully formed ass was in the air, being lightly caressed by the pool’s waves…and then the pool’s waves became the River Lord’s tongue, penetrating his entrance with a wonderfully wet, hot pressure, rimming him with an experience born of centuries of seduction. He thrashed and squirmed and splashed under the torturously pleasurable onslaught, his cock burning with need and rampantly hard as he started to pump it furiously, his rising tide of lust a greater offering than the River Lord had experienced in millennia. No longer merely sustaining himself on the lust of the mortal, the water-spirit found himself partaking in it, letting it fuel his own desires in a way that no mortal physicality ever had before. It was in the heat of that moment the River Lord realized he had found a lover in this hot-blooded mortal, not just another giver of offerings..
When his passion reached the point of no return a second time, the River Lord positioned himself at the Elf’s entrance and let loose a second torrent of silver seed, splattering his opening with enough divine semen to lubricate the passage and turn their encounter into an act of pure pleasure. Still panting from his release, the River Lord positioned his still-hard manhood at the moaning Elf’s opening, looking into his eyes in a wordless request for permission…something the spirit had never felt the need to do before.
The elf looked up at him with those warm, dark eyes, and nodded with a salacious smile. Closing his own eyes, the River Lord began to penetrate his lover with agonizing slowness, pushing the pucker of flesh open with infinite care, where with his offerings he’d simply punched through mercilessly, using his magic to drive them so insane with lust that they didn’t care if they were ripped apart or not.
Not so with the Garnet elf. His body was the River Lord’s own temple, more precious to him than the flow of his current, inciting hotter passion than he’d ever felt in his life. The children of the Gods never fell in love, but the River Lord felt he was as close as an immortal being would ever come. He pumped, slowly and with infinite care, in and out of the Garnet’s tight, willing hole, steam swirling about them as they both broke out in a sweat from the heat of their union. The Garnet’s stiff, hard maleness jutted against his muscular belly, and the River Lord repositioned himself so that it glided between them, lubed by the precome the crimson shaft was secreting by the ounce.
The Garnet grunted at the pleasure from both sides of his body, and urged his spirit-lover for more. Harder, faster, he cried, until the River Lord finally complied and began unleashing the full might of his sexual prowess upon the desperate man. Their racing heartbeats were a primal drumming to which they set their pace, the steam from their union coalescing into a full-fledged fog, hot as a sauna but thick as a fall morning. Their cries grew more strident and urgent by the minute as their shared lust and passion spiraled to a crescendo.
When the River Lord came for the third time, he screamed in ecstasy as his manhood shot its load deep inside the Garnet’s willing opening. Trapped between their bodies as it was, the Garnet’s own red member spasmed and shot, drenching their chests and faces with rich, spicy seed that the River Lord found he couldn’t get enough of. They came together in the steam like that, both men crying out in ecstasy as their bodies gyrated beyond all control, for nearly a minute…longer than the River Lord had ever come in his immortal life, and certainly more pleasure than the Garnet had ever experienced.
After a moment that both beings needed to take to recover themselves, the River Lord rose to the Garnet’s side and kissed him again. Where his first kiss had been demanding, strident, and intended to incite lust, this one became passionate, needful, and an expression of a feeling most immortal folk were incapable of.
Finally, the River Lord rolled onto his hands and knees in the sand, and with a look back to his lover, raised his perfect, tan ass into the air.
~FIN~
