The First Harem Tournament 10 – Comforting Lines

“…the final outcome of it all was: nothing,” John read. “It had been for naught. Ten thousand men marched on low supplies and captured a fortress against all odds. Their reward? An order to retreat from a treacherous senate. ‘Is this really it?’ Julio asked himself, chewing the inside of his cheek. He heard the same question in every shout exchanged between the captains. The wooden door, thick as it was, failed to contain their rage. Loyalty, ambition and the depth of the human soul all stirred in there.”

Lyndell shifted on top of him. The grey woman had exchanged her grown dress for one of his t-shirts and nothing else. Her resting place of choice was his chest and his lap. Her head lay on his shoulder, carefully positioned so her horns didn’t poke him.

“Julio could hardly bear standing there. An honour, they called it, to be the dedicated guard of a general. A prison, that was what it was. Confined to the post of this door, lips sealed and boots anchored by vows, he could do nothing. While his comrades were down below, blissfully unaware of the political ongoings of the war, he had to endure the worst of both worlds. He knew everything. He could decide on nothing.”

“Ah…!” A little gasp escaped the horny mushroom. Beneath the overhang of the too-large shirt, a pair of cat ears twitched. Fabric hid the details of what Jane was doing from John’s eyes. Even the different angle provided by the hovering Ego Blade did not give him any insight. Beneath the tongue of the pink-haired First Harmonia, wonderful things must have occurred. Even if he could not see them, proof of Lyndell’s delight was in every wet lick.

“His teeth clenched. A break of professionalism. He tried to relax them. All he managed was an even more visible circling of his jaw. The grinding of his teeth echoed the turmoil in his soul. Hard anger rubbed against hard loyalties.”

Lyndell grabbed the hand that had been idly lying on the curve of her hips. Jittery, climax fast approaching, she guided his hand to her mouth. Hot breath greeted his digits. Lips wrapped around his index and middle finger. Cheeks caved in as she lewdly sucked on his fingers, wanting something, anything in her mouth.

John put aside the e-reader. He needed the extra hand to scratch Lyndell behind the ear while he whispered sweet nothings. “You’re my gorgeous goth. Never forget that, because it will always be true. I love you from your veil to the blackest depths of your soul. Transparent or thick as tar, your mind is mine. My Harmonia. Voice of my Imperial Choir. My Forlorn Lady. My Lyndell.” Her tongue pressed against his digits as eyelids fell shut. “Be a good girl… cum for me.”

“Ahhhh… haaaaaaaah…. Ah!” A gorgeous song of long sighs and choppy gasps flowed from the tortured soul. It was John’s privilege to, at least for a few seconds, wipe her mind entirely clear of her troubled existence. He only prayed that everything beyond the overwhelming physical pleasure served to diminish her pains.

Lyndell made it easy to forget just how deep her troubles went. She was so quiet and yet so well-adjusted, never speaking out of turn, never creating a fuss. The dwelling she had in the Palace was to her liking. She invited people over and left without complaints for events that she was interested in. Certainly, she preferred to be alone in the dark more than others. Still, most of the time, signs of her damage were hidden well.

Those cracks were in her fundament. Millions of years of self-loathing and loneliness. A length of time that the human mind could not comprehend. John doubted the Lorylim mind was capable of it either. Aeons bled together into a totality of darkness that became more than a memory. How did one treat a depression that was older and further reinforced than the creation myths of entire civilizations? How could one treat it if the potential consequence was the awakening of genocidal instincts?

“You are… so strong,” John muttered and he meant every syllable of it. “No words can describe how much I admire your willpower.”

“I’m just myself,” Lyndell muttered back.

“And for that, for who I get to spend my life with, I am grateful… so infinitely grateful.” John put both arms around her and gave her yet another hug. Reciprocating, she pressed against him. With a light giggle, Jane put her arms around both their waists, nuzzling against their side. It was the kind of awkward positioning that no one in love cared about.

“Though your warmth pleases me, I need to venture into the cold world for a few short minutes.” Lyndell’s eternal sadness was subdued, pleasantly covered by a layer of dreamy warmth. “I crave the black brew.”

“”HNNNNNNNNNNNNGH!!!”” Jane and John hummed in unison as they gave the ancient entity one more squeeze before releasing her from the hug.

“Go get your coffee and then right back to hugs, ya hear me?” the feline Lightbearer ordered. “I got command over ya for ten more minutes.”

“Everything you desire, Mistress,” Lyndell responded evenly, making her lethargic way away from the beanbag that John was still sitting on.

Both the man and first of the harem watched the sad girlfailure walk away. “I’m not going to lie,” he whispered quietly. “The mixture of the urge to protect her and wanting to fuck her until she’s bloated with cum is potent.”

“I know, right?” Jane responded. “Then I could lap those loads out of her while ya brush her hair…”

“…Do I ever tell you that you’re way too good for me?”

“All the time, it still ain’t true.” Jane crawled up his chest, slowly leaning in. “Wanna taste her on my lips?”

“God, yes!”

Chuckling, the love of his life put her full mouth on his. Those pink, glossy lips of hers were a bit sticky with the other woman’s honey. An earthy taste mingled with Jane’s bubblegum sweetness. John often noticed how common actions caused a Pavlovian response in his women. Moaning into Jane’s mouth, he found himself subjected to it. The combined aroma of his women stirred his lust fiercely.

The kiss broke. Artfully, Jane pulled back, drawing the arching strand of saliva between them for as long as it would go. After it broke, she smirked and took a firm grasp of his crotch, pressing fine cloth against sensitive skin. “Ya need help with this?”

“Yes.” The confirmation hadn’t even started to leave his mouth and Jane was already pulling down the zipper. He had been so entirely dedicated to comforting Lyndell that he hadn’t paid any attention to his own needs.

Jane was the same. Thankfully, her bodysuit could be made to thin out by the desires of her mind. Pink, latex-like material turned from a protective cover to a skin-tight, flimsy layer that presented her pussy as a brightly coloured cameltoe. A moment later, it tore entirely, showing off a womanhood glistening with need.

Hands fell on his shoulders. Jane gazed into his eyes, slit pupils dilated, the pink light around them almost drowning out the blue of her irises. Without looking, she lowered her hips. Her sex accepted him readily, inner walls fluttering, yielding and clenching all at the same time.

Jane was all high-pitched moans from the first moment. He grabbed her by the waist, aiding her riding by stabilizing her quivering form and meeting her rhythmic descent. They lasted all of twenty bounces, less than two minutes, before their lips crashed into each other once more. A mutual, intense orgasm had them lovingly claw at one another’s form. She appreciated his firmness, he her softness and the grace of her curves.

It was over so fast and yet it was some of the best sex John had all day, if not all week. The rapid experience left him breathing heavily, his heart beating fast. Sometimes, getting it done in a manner of minutes just felt ecstatic. ‘Truly, no one best way to make love,’ he thought.

“That was… grrrrreat,” Jane purred, steadying her own breathing.

“Yeah.” John’s hands kept gliding up and down her sides. The texture of the bodysuit was a distant second to her naked, smooth skin. Realizing what her man truly wanted, the feline Lightbearer removed the obstructing clothing fully. In all of her softly tanned glory, she circled her hips. Sighing, she felt every inch of his continuous erection shifting inside her.

“I’ve gotten so… spoiled,” Jane groaned.

“Yes.” The response was instant. No way John would let such an opportunity to tease her get away. When she gently smacked his cheek, he laughed and added the question, “In what regard?”

“Just the whole ‘always hard’ thing.” Gyrations grew a little faster, the swings a little wider. Jane closed her eyes. A long sigh flowed from those luscious lips, the first he had ever kissed in his life and the first with which he had sealed the vows of matrimony. “I know ya don’t like it when I talk about it, but every couple months I remember I had sex before ya and then I go ‘did that even count?’” A delightful mixture of chuckle and moan filled the air. “And then I realize that basically the rest of the female species…”

“Women are a different species, I agree.”

Another playful slap. “…doesn’t get this, so I’m tryin’ to count my blessings.” She put her arms around his neck. “You’re such a great husband, ya know that?”

“…Am I?” John asked, his voice deep, subtly seeking more. There was no sweeter a thing in the universe than approval from his wives and wives-to-be.

“Giving us everything we need and more, holding us back here and there, pushing us further on other things, and providing us only with the best.” She leaned in close, her breathy voice playing around his ear. “You – deserve – this – harem.”

Every stretched word made his heart beat faster. “Careful,” he cautioned, “you’re giving me a big head.”

“Oh, your head got bigger, alright.” She shook her perfect bubble butt up and down to underline exactly what she meant. He was almost painfully erect. “Fuck… it’s like grinding on a… urgh, this is such a cheap smut metaphor, but it’s like a steel rod wrapped in velvet… fuck, it feels so good…” The last bit was added under her breath, a last quiet sound before another orgasmic cry tore from her lungs.

John buried his head in the curve of her neck, pressing hickeys along the path of shoulder to ear. Little blemishes on perfectly taut skin, marks on his nubile wife that reinforced that she belonged to him. He was slightly miffed that Gamer’s Body prevented her from doing the same.

“I got my coffee,” Lyndell whispered in his other ear.

Had it not been for that very same fluid, John would have immediately pulled the gothic woman between him and Jane. Lyndell had other plans anyway. “Can we step out?” she asked and gestured towards the curtain.

“Are you sure?”

“I yearn to do my part in the normalization of sex.” Lyndell said it in a calm tone and with an aroused tint to her cheeks.

“What the Harmonia wants, the Harmonia gets,” Jane cooed. The beginnings of her rising from his cock were swiftly stopped by John redoubling the hold he had on her waist. That was the only warning the techno lover needed to hug him tighter with both arms and legs, clinging onto him as he got on his feet.

Gasping loudly, Jane served him as a nice and tight cocksleeve while he walked outside. The public offered barely any reaction at all, further proof that they were certainly used to his shenanigans. Outside, Delicia, Siena and Lydia were watching the current event – a magical circus show utilizing juggling fireballs and making interesting shapes out of water and steam.

The balcony had its own furniture. John headed towards a table, a good and simple place to put down the empress of Fusion. If any cameras were swinging in their direction, and there doubtlessly was at least one, they would record a panting and spasming exhibitionist royal rapidly fingering her cum-oozing pussy while her husband got taken balls-deep in the throat of the eldritch entity that she had fought not half an hour earlier.

Sinking to her knees was Lyndell’s choice. Grabbing her by the horns and shoving his cock down her throat, that was John’s desire. Jane called herself spoiled for having a man with endless sexual stamina. John would call himself spoiled for being surrounded by such nymphomaniacs that all loved to take it in every single hole.

“Really, in front of everyone? No shame, man!” Delicia shouted over, much to the amusement of both Lydia and Siena.

John just ignored her. Left close to a second orgasm by Jane’s tight cunt, he had to muster his willpower to keep fucking Lyndell’s throat. Her insides were human and yet not. The texture was subtly different, the lubrication a little thicker. The latter reminded him a bit of Nightingale, but a harpy’s throat-pussy this was not.

It was very sensitive though.

Lyndell’s eyes were rolled up. Her hands lay flat against his legs. Her entire body trembled.

GLACK! GLACK! GLACK!

The depraved sound of her throat yielding to the whole of his impressively large manhood echoed across the balcony. It tempted John to connect to the speaker runes and broadcast her muffled, orgasmic wails across the arena. An ideation was where that stayed, his exhibitionism stopped firmly before the point of executing on such a fantasy.

He was about to climax. Like always, he did not bother announcing it. Cumming inside them after fucking their brains out was his right as their man. Unusually, Lyndell pushed against him pinning her head down. Reflexively, his hands relaxed, releasing her gently curved horns.

“What’s wro- urgh…!” A rumbling grunt escaped him when Lyndell abruptly grabbed his highly sensitive cock. Wet noises filled the air as she rapidly stroked him. John’s understanding of the world was temporarily wiped. Balls tightened, nerves burned bright and blissfully, and his seed pumped in heavy wads from his cock.

The tinny sound that followed each spurt did not make a lot of sense to him at first. It took almost three full seconds for his brain to catch up with his eyes. Lyndell kept stroking him, milking his cum into her metal coffee cup. She bit her lower lip, the blackness of her mouth and the grey of her skin both marked by the splattering juices of a rough face fucking.

She licked the last drop off the tip of his cock, then took a sip of her coffee. “…Does that taste good?” John had to ask.

“If it’s yours.” Lyndell answered, shuddering as she took another sip. “I did the research. Cum is alkaline, coffee is acidic. It’s supposed to make for a terrible mixture.” That she was having another climax with the next sip said more than her words did. “You ignore ‘supposed’.”

Well, he was happy to know that the deliciousness of his spunk superseded even chemistry.

John kept patting Lyndell’s head while she kept giving herself coffee-gasms. At one point, he opened his mouth to ask how she was feeling. With a smile, he stopped himself. His horny mushroom was right where she wanted to be. He believed that with all his heart. To keep needling her on whether she was fine or not would have been overbearing in its own right.

So, he was just there for her.