Setting Sail Finale pt2

Erik was dancing with Amy. Rangpar was lifting two separate women into the air with a single hand, while two more sat on his wide shoulders. He laughed loudly as they felt his muscles and cooed. Dortas was laughing with his dad. Jonah was going drink for drink with Salima, and the two looked like Beatrice might have a sibling on the way soon. The redbeard brothers were setting up an arm wrestling booth. The smith was actively flirting with the bartender. At the center of all of it, Meryl waded through the crowd like a fish through a stream. Her movements were graceful and otherworldly. She reacted to people stumbling before they did it. Dodging a splashing of ale before it even left the mug. She approached the recently arrived couple.

“Wilkes Tempest. Beatrice Tellish. It is beyond pleasant to see you.” She spoke with more warmth than he had ever heard from her. “Please, join us and make merry. By dawn I will be sailing to Osan with the fishing crew to begin the next stage of my duties. This is my last night in Thellin.”

The couple glanced between themselves before tackling the unsuspecting oracle into a group hug. The veiled woman gasped at the sudden physical contact. She clumsily pat both of them on the back. Wilkes’s arm drifted to her waist while Beatrice remained across her shoulders. Beatrice shot him a look when she noticed where his arm was. Not a negative one, but contemplative. He moved his arm up, and her expression changed to one of approval. He offered a wry smile and she returned it. Pulling back from the overwhelmed oracle, Meryl seemed to sway a bit.

“That was… euphoric.” She spoke softly. He didn’t need to be able to see her face to know she was smiling ear to ear. Beatrice grinned at her.

“Wilkes, would you mind if I have some girl talk with Meryl? You can go arm wrestle the redbeards while we do.” Beatrice dismissed him casually. He obliged her, clearly the huntress had a conversation that was of utmost importance. Wading through the crowd he did his best not to get splashed or knocked around. He wasn’t as capable as Meryl in that regard admittedly. Skillfully he dodged an attempted bear hug from a drunk Rangpar. Slipping under one arm, the giddy giant giggled away as he crashed to the ground.

“ Aw, little friend not want kugnash!” Rangpar grumbled.

“If kugnash means hug I’ll give ya one later big guy, Gonna go arm wrestle the redbeards!” Wilkes offered. The giant orc nodded his head, a bit of a pout forming on his usually intimidating features. It was bizarre but endearing all the same. Finally wading to the opposite side of the crowd, the arm wrestling stand stood before him. Well, stand was a bit aggrandizing. It was a table with varying sized stools so whoever approached could sit evenly. Pulling up and adequately sized stool, he offered his hand for the contest. Gondrid took the opposite side from him and smiled between gulps of ale. His brother circled the table slowly, ensuring the crowd was sufficiently far away. The froth still bubbled in his opponent’s mustache as their hands met

“Oh! Lil’ Willy wantsa wrastlin’ match againsta reahl man! C’mon boyo!” Gondrid taunted, Donrid blew a whistle and it began. At first Wilkes was sorely outmatched, his arm was being wrenched ever closer to the table. Gritting his teeth he mounted a counter offense. Pushing with all he had they went back to a neutral point. Veins bulged, their hands shook, and neither man dared to look away.

“What’s the matter? Too many hours working with cloth go and make ye soft Gondy?” Wilkes taunted him, the dwarf sputtered at that.

“Ya half wit bugger, mah hands been rougher loouken than ya face since before yer mammy shat ye out!” Gondrid spat, a vein bulging on his forehead.

“Ah so old and soft is the problem then!” Wilkes egged him on further. For one brief moment he relented, letting Gondrid push forward. As soon as he saw the dwarf relax he began to push full force again. The dwarf’s hand sailed dangerously close to the table as the crowd began to cheer. It stopped with barely an inch between skin and wood grain. Gondrid’s eyes flicked between his hand, the table, and Wilkes’s confident smile.

“Ah may be old! BUT I’LL NER BE SOFT LADDY!” Gondrid roared, sweat poured down his face as he struggled to push back up. However Wilkes held them both firm. It took everything the dwarf had not to lose. It was a matter of stamina now. Thing is, Wilkes had been pulling and holding lines for the past five years. Gondrid had been weaving and cutting. The difference in labor spelled the younger man’s victory. With a final groan Gondrid’s hand smacked the table with a meaty thwack. Wilkes drew his hand back and smiled wide at the dwarf.

“Excellent as always Gondrid. Thank ye for the contest.”

“Well, I can well and true say if ye ever make it to the under lands, yer gonna fit in jus fine laddy.” Gondrid pat him on the shoulder before ushering him out of the chair. The two redbeards swapped positions and resumed heckling the crowd. It seemed that would be how the pair kept things lively for their share of the night. Someone started clapping their hands for attention, Wilkes' eyes locked on the source. Captain Tellish had somehow found himself atop a table and was prepared to give a speech.

“Listen ye land lubbers! A true salty sea dog is gonna speak hic speak up! As the oldest bastard that still battles the tide on this wonderful island o’ ours, I’m uniquely privileged to say our goodbyes. In my time, I seen many a sailor come and go. They been strong, stubborn, and downright indomitable. E’ry two or so years we make this voyage, takin’ the cream of Thellin’s crop to lands beyond so we can keep putting food on our plates. We couldn’t make half the coin we bring back without all of ye bustin’ yer tails as much as we do. Don’t let any fancy pants navy man tell ye otherwise. Thellin ain’t back water!” He tilted a bottle of rum clear to sky before letting out a loud belch and continuing. The captain began pointing to faces in the crowd as he spoke. “Thellin ain’t ever gonna be back water. Not when we got the man smart as whip Erik. Not when we got the bastard tougher than a squall Wilkes. Not when we got the man who bends iron with hands Rangpar. Not when I got three of the most promising apprentices I’ve seen in the past decade!”

The crowd cheered for him as he took multiple bows. At one point his foot slipped and he took staggering steps atop the table. The wild motions ended up becoming a jig as the old sea dog decided he was feeling more than merry enough. The suckling boar was now being marched into the center of the square. It wasn’t a full grown male from what he could tell, but he’d need to ask Beatrice. Maybe she had made a lucky find when they weren’t speaking. Regardless, his stomach growled. An elbow poked into his ribs after that.

“Great, the captain went and gushed about us. Now we really need to make something of ourselves, huh Wilkes?” Erik asked him, a less-than-sober grin plastered on his face. “If the captain’s up for dancing, how about you go find your arm candy and get to it too?”

“Hmm, she said she wanted girl talk with Meryl. I assume when I’m needed for dancing and kissing I’ll be pounced on.” Wilkes mused, borrowing the tankard of Ale in Erik’s hand. He took a long swig, knocking the refreshing brew back. Erik began to protest, but was passed another.

“I betcha I can finish a fresh one faster than you!” Erik said, snagging another one from a passerby. Wilkes eyed him up and down and stole a second ale from his friend. They clinked rims and put the bottoms to the sky. Chugging for his pride, Wilkes just barely managed to out pace the half elf. Having knocked two ales in under a minute, he could feel the alcohol creeping in. He wasn’t quite warm in the face yet, but if he kept this up he would be soon.

“I win again, didn’t you get enough of this last night?” Wilkes teased Erik. The elf slugged him in the arm and gave a cheeky grin.

“Enough of knocking back ale with my best friend? Who’re ye and whaddya do with Wilkes?” Erik eyed him in mock suspicion.

“Well, we’re both lovers of fine women. I’m keenly aware that if I get too drunk to reach full mast I’ll be in a mountain of trouble. As would you be knife ear.” Wilkes reasoned. Erik stroked the whiskers on his chin at that. A resounding hum as he glanced through the crowd.

“Right, Amy heard about ye breaking your bed slats from Beatrice. Now I gotta at least try to do the same. Can ye quit raising the bar before I break a hip?” Erik complained before the two shared a laugh. He tugged his waist band down and a bit and showed a small bruise on his hip. “I mean look at this! I bruise like a banana and ye got me running nine rounds a night for sake of comparison!”

“Nine rounds in a night?! I didn’t need ta know ye were a quick shot!” Wilkes teased him. The pair roared with laughter.

They both perked up when Erik’s name was called. Amy was sitting at a table, making a come hither motion with two fingers. The look of intense lust in her eyes told both men all they needed to know. Wilkes gave a firm shove to the elf’s back and spurred him into motion. Amy practically pounced from her chair into his arms and peppered him with kisses. A dopey smile across Erik’s face told all who saw it he was exactly where he wanted to be. A thumbs up was their final exchange for the night.

On his lonesome now, Wilkes walked with a bit of a stumble to his step. Perhaps the ale was hitting him harder than he had expected. Wading through the crowd he approached the green goliath. A tap on the muscular shoulder of the mountain of a man drew his attention at once.

“KUGNASH TIME!” Rangpar shouted, scooping Wilkes into a massive hug. He was promptly subjected to being thrashed around like when Daisy got her teeth around a stick. His legs swung wide into the air, but thankfully went above the surrounding crowd. Giggling happily, Rangpar set Wilkes down. A heavy set line of darker green was the tell-tale sign of alcohol taking its effect on Rangpar. “Wilkes, little Bea and uncle Jonah tellings Rangpar you marry her when we return? Give rangpar little ones to watch?!”

“Sooner or later, yes big guy. Gonna help turn the tellish name into a clan.” Wilkes said. The giant’s eyes went wide, and then a roar of elation left him. His tattoo ignited in brilliant shades of blue as he clapped and began to dance in place. Wilkes managed to keep him from crashing into any other people by forcing the crowd to give a wide berth. Once Rangpar calmed down, he beheld Wilkes with teary eyes. He had never seen Rangpar cry before, and happy tears being the first time were well fitting.

“Wilkes… you… are my brother.” Rangpar spoke with a bit of effort. Wilkes did his best to wrap his arms around the giant orc in a hug. His human was getting better, and the first grammatically correct sentence he said to him was claiming him as family. “Heh heh, Erik helpings me with that.”

Behind them, people were beginning to dig into the pig, the baskets of bread, and the bowls of fruit. The sailors exchanged a glance. Drunk as they were, familial as they were, they understood one another. The pair broke off, getting in line for food. Wilkes tapped his foot impatiently, his stomach growling like an angry dog. He got a fat chunk of boar flank, a whole loaf of bread, and a small assortment of fruit. Slices of ripe mango mingled with cantaloupe, watermelon, starfruit, and jack fruit. He licked his lips as he made his way to a table. Any one would do. Thankfully as he wandered through the population, Beatrice flagged him down. Meryl was sitting at the same table, sneaking bites of food beneath her veil.

Setting his plate down, he sank into his chair with ease. Finally he got off his feet. The slippers were comfortable but his feet had begun to ache. Both women stared at him intently. He had the huntress to his left, and the oracle to his right. Beatrice looked at him with a hunger he knew food wouldn’t satisfy. An empty bottle of wine sat on the center of the table. Meryl veil was off-kilter, but he could still tell that her gaze was aimed directly at him. An empty wine glass sat in front of her. Suddenly, Wilkes felt as if he was caught between two predators.

“Wilkes, after we’re done eating… let’s go home~” Beatrice purred at him. Beneath the table she began to stroke the inside of his thigh. He cleared his throat at that, feeling a foot begin to stroke his leg from his right. A blush built on his face and both women cooed at him.

“I hic told you this would work.” Meryl said, her foot rose higher on his leg. She seemed keen to play footsy with him. He slipped off his slipper and began to entertain the challenge. Beatrice squeezed his crotch playfully. He bit his lip to avoid letting out a grunt.

“Sailor~ don’t tell me you thought our chat would just be business. Meryl and I worked out a little deal.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear now. He could smell the wine on her breath, but knew she had made the decision of sound mind. “She’s going to wring you dry the entire voyage so you don’t even want to look at the redhead.”

Wilkes gulped nervously. With a shaking hand he took a bite of boar flank. Not done teasing him, she nibbled on his ear. Her breath tickled his neck before she pull away. Goosebumps sprouted over his body.

“Then I’ll be sure to let her do so.” Wilkes said as calmly as he could manage. He had lost the game of footsy. His composure, thankfully, had held. With a slow, deep breath he continued to eat dinner. Beatrice had already finished her plate and was now simply tracing the rim of her wine glass. Her eyes smoldered while being locked onto him.

“She’s going to watch tonight, so she understands what to do.” Beatrice said as he sipped an ale that had somehow made its way to him. He coughed into the drink. Setting it down and thumping his chest. “Why so surprised, she already slept beside you.”

“Yes, yes we did. You had already mentioned her, and since you didn’t want to talk and I didn’t want to be alone I just figured...” Wilkes let his voice trail off

“I told her before we even spoke. She gave me permission to rest there during your brief parting.” Meryl informed him. She rest her chin on her palms, staring at him intently.

“That she did. Silly Willy, I wouldn’t leave you to suffer completely alone like that.” Beatrice told him. Her hand began to rub his thigh more, and he felt his groin stirring.

“Well, I appreciate that, but either of you could’ve told me sooner. Part of me expected to be put to the stake over it.” Wilkes admitted.

“Oh, no stakes needed. All the wood I want is right here. Now, take me home.” Beatrice urged him, her eyes glanced at his empty plate.

The trio crashed through the front door of his home. Hands pulled one another’s clothes off in the way drunks often explored one another. He felt three hands on his cock, and broke his kiss with Beatrice to look down. One green hand, and two gloved hands. The women shared a glance, and the gloved pair retreated. Slowly his shaft was pumped up and down. He grabbed her wrist and nodded at the still open door. With an annoyed huff she stopped and closed his door. As she did, he kicked off his pants.

Wordlessly she pounced on him from the door. Slamming her lips against his in an admittedly sloppy manner. He spun her and planted her rump on the table again. He parted her thighs wide and moved to assault her neck with kisses. From the corner he heard a chair being pulled over and the sound of a wet pussy being fingered. Glancing back he saw that Meryl had lifted her dress and begun to masturbate at the display.

“Wilkes, quit staring and give the poor girl a show!” Beatrice demanded, grabbing his face and pulling him back into the kiss. He slowly pulled the dress up and up. Beatrice’s nude form elicited a gasp from the oracle. In turn the huntress pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside. The two escalated further, fingers clawing at his back, and his own arms looping under her legs again. He was particularly fond of this position as of now. He lifted her up and impaled her dripping pussy down on his cock. An ecstatic cry came from the usually composed half-orc. “Fuuuuuuuuuck yes!”

Wilkes proceeded to pound her like that relentlessly. Beatrice was left to only moan and grab at him while enduring the pleasure. He could hear ass clapping from the force of the thrusts. He took a few small pivoting steps and let the oracle see the origin of the lewd noises. The sight he witnessed was enthralling.

Her veil remained on. The skirt of her dress and robes were pulled up to her waist. Impossibly pale, smooth skin was parted. Her gloves lay cast off on the floor. Meryl shoved three fingers in and out of her sopping pussy at the same pace he pounded Beatrice. Her other hand actively teased a nipple through her dress. He watched as the voyeur’s hips began to buck, a small stream of fluid squirted out of her and covered the floor. Panting, Meryl reclined heavily in the chair. Still doing gently rubs on the outer lips of her pussy.

“Holy shit Bea, Meryl just squirted something from her pussy.” Wilkes said, spinning around so she could look over his shoulder at the mess the oracle had made of herself.

“Oh my gods that’s so hot. Keep stuffing me while she plays with herself, I wanna cum while watching her rub and rub and rub and rub.” Beatrice began to ramble again. Spasms worked his cock hard, and his own climax was worked out. He let out a loud groan and felt his balls drain into her waiting pussy. The half orc whimpered as the hot seed splashed inside her. “I love you Wilkes, I love you so much.”

Gently he pulled out then set her back on her own two feet. Naked and sweaty she stared up at him before stealing his lips for another kiss.

“C-can I kiss him through my veil?” Meryl spoke up for the first time that night. Beatrice looked at her, then back at him with a soft smile. She slowly pushed him towards her. His cock still shone with Beatrice’s juices. Cupping Meryl’s face, he leaned down and planted a kiss. The oracle shook wildly, her hands grabbed at him unsure of what to do. When he pulled back, the oracle panted and began to finger herself over again.

“She’s all worked up now, how about we take this to your bed so she can get a proper show?” Beatrice asked teasingly. Leading the way he walked into his new room. Meryl brought the chair with her into the bedroom.

Wilkes did not stop rutting Beatrice until sunlight began to come through the window.