Join Adella

Partly out of need for a translator, and partly because he is more than a little uncomfortable leaving his sister to be felt up by the little man with the animated beard, the king decides to make his way over to Adella’s side.

As he does so, he moves past a fantastic variety of beings, and it takes all of his training and self-control not to stare. Some of the stare-worthy sights include exotic creatures whose species he could only guess. At least as distracting, however, was the way everyone seemed to be interacting with each other. It has just been a few minutes since his arrival in the room, but the gathering was already beginning to take on the feel of an ****-fueled makeout party for oversexed teenagers. Everywhere he looked, it seemed as if there was always someone planting a kiss on a fellow guest or feeling someone up under the watchful and approving glances of onlookers.

It hardly helped for him to focus on his sister, instead. As he neared her position, the little man’s hand continued to pump away under the flap of his loincloth, while his beard made a tentacle-like tour of Adella’s glorious upper body.

With her eyes closed and face turned toward the ceiling, Adella is unaware of her brother’s presence until he clears his throat and speaks her name. She opens her eyes and finds Stewart. His look is accusatory, and she smiles sheepishly before explaining.

“This is Windermere,” she says, nodding toward the bearded man. “He is an apothacary and has been telling me about Nymphite customs.”

Stewart nods curtly at Windermere, who smiles back at him and returns the nod. He does not, however, withdraw his hand from under his loincloth, nor does his beard cease its activity. Rather than stop, the beard has actually doubled its efforts. As Adella introduces Windermere, Stewart sees the end of the beard divide into two hairy appendages, and each of them take one of Adella’s breasts and begin circling and stimulating a nipple.

Windermere says nothing, and Stewart finds the activities of the beard weird enough without the additional oddity of having the man smile at him while obviously jacking off.

He forces himself to focus on Adella’s face as he seeks an explanation.

“And what, exactly, are you learning about Nymphite customs, Sister? From where I stand, it seems that little is going on by way of conversation.”

Adella’s face again shows mild embarassment, but if she is in any hurry to stop Windemere’s fondling of her bosom, she does not show it.

“It’s not what you think, Stewart. Windermere is of dwarf and elf lineage. His species is extremely rare. He communicates primarily through telepathy. His beard acts as the transmitter of his thoughts, and he has to be in physical contact with the one to whom he is speaking.”

Stewart’s eyes drop down to Adella’s breasts again. Windermere’s “transmitter” is furiously flicking her nipples, causing them to pebble into dark, inviting hard nubs that seem to cry out for someone’s lips.

He tears his gaze away from spectacle and says, “Is that so? It appears that he is doing far more than merely maintaining physical contact with you. His beard’s touch is quite intimate, to say the least.” Inclining his head toward the little man, he says, “And judging from what he is doing with his hand, I doubt that his interests in you are limited to an exchange of scholarly dialogue.”

Adella gives her brother a whithering look. “Don’t be so quick to jump to conclusions. Haven’t you learned anything in your time here? Whatever his geneology, Windermere is also Nymphite; don’t assume that what would be sexual to our way of thinking means the same thing here.”

Stewart nods, acknowledging this fact. Although he knows that to be true, it’s very difficult for him to see how such obvious attempts at nipple stimulation — whether by hands, lips, or hairy tentacles — can be seen as anything other than sexual foreplay. Besides, if there could possibly be any innocent explanation for having one’s hand firmly clenched on one’s penis, he was pretty sure he would have found it and used it as an excuse to get him through those awkward years of puberty.

Adella continues. “His telepathic abilities are at their peak when he is sexually aroused. Our conversation has been going quite well, but there are some things that have been difficult to translate. The complicated phraseology seems to translate better when his beard is in contact with my breasts, instead of my hand or arm. When he began stimulating himself, that made things exceptionally clear.”

Stewart gives a skeptical look at Windermere, who is still smiling silently at him, but his eyes have taken on a somewhat glassy appearance as he furiously beats his meat. The king recognizes the look of a guy who has descended into the blissful high of sexual gratification.

‘I hear what you are saying, Adella, but you should not be so quick to assume the best of people. Telling someone that they have to be touching your naked body in order to speak is like a teenage boy pleading with his girlfriend to go all the way because blue balls is a health-endangering condition.”

Adella shakes her head. “It’s nothing like that, Stewart. We’ve been having a delightful and informative conversation. You will want to hear what I have learned.”

Stewart can’t help but look again at Windermere. The smile remains on his face, but his expression is otherwise vacant, and his forearm is moving back and forth so rapidly that Stewart can feel the resultant breeze against his knees. He mentally calculates the trajectory of the inevitable eruption of seminal fluids, and takes a cautious step to his side.

“And I can’t wait to hear what you have to share with me, Sister. Why don’t we step out of the room for a moment so we can talk in peace?”

“I’m not sure that’s wise,” she says, glancing at her conversation partner. “He seems rather intent on staying in contact with me right at the moment. It might be considered rude to step away just now.”

Rude or not, Stewart would really like to get away from this setting, and not just so he can find out what Adella has learned.