Triss makes plans to depart

Geralt awoke to a moist sensation on his nether regions, and he lifted the covers to see waves of long red hair dangling above his crotch. “Hey Triss,” he said.

A pale, carefully manicured hand brushed the red locks out of the way and the sorceress smiled up at him, her mouth around his cock. “I was wondering when you’d wake up,” Triss said. “I’ll be leaving today, Geralt – negotiations have been going well, all that’s left to do is the signing.”

“Damn. Was just getting used to having you around,” he said.

“The same goes for you,” she smiled, laying kisses down his shaft. “If you ever find yourself in Kovir, don’t be afraid to come by. Or I might even come to Kaer Morhen. But for now, let’s just enjoy ourselves.”

“Agreed.”

Triss grinned and licked slowly along his underside all the way from base to tip, then did the same for all sides of his cock until the entire thing was once again coated in saliva. Wrapping her lips around him, she took a deep breath before sliding down until his tip tickled her throat, and she gagged slightly.

Geralt grunted, not entirely satisfied with only half his cock enveloped in her mouth, but resisted the urge to buck his hips – he knew how sensitive her gag reflex was. Instead, he contented himself with brushing her hair behind her ear and relishing the feeling of her tongue massaging his head.

With her eyes watering slightly, Triss pulled back. “Sorry, Geralt, I know Yen does it better.”

“How do you know that?” he asked, intrigued. He wasn’t going to deny it – Yen was an expert when it came to pleasing men with her mouth, stemming from almost sixty years more experience than the redheaded sorceress.

“We had a bit too much wine,” Triss blushed at the memory, her cheeks almost going the color of her hair, as she shuffled up the bed and pressed her soft breasts together over his cock. “She made a replica of … you. And she, uh, demonstrated.”

Geralt laughed. “She never told me.”

“I think she forgot. As I said, lots of wine was involved,” Triss giggled, beginning to move her sizeable boobs up and down. He groaned as her soft flesh massaged his cock, and his head hit the pillow.

“You’re much better at this than Yen,” he grunted.

“Thanks,” she smiled. “But a word of advice, Geralt: most women don’t like it when you compare them. Especially not in bed.”

“Sorry.”

While Triss continued her ministrations, Geralt sighed and allowed his mind to sink into bliss. Like most bright women, she had learned to use her assets to her advantage, and while her breasts were not her greatest assets, they were certainly in contention. (Other notable competitors were her kindness, her arcane skill and her intellect, but hey, this is meant to be smut.) She expertly brought him to the edge, and he had to use all his willpower to avoid blowing his load then and there.

“Stop,” he panted.

Smiling, Triss paused, staring at the head of his cock and waiting tentatively, as if she was expecting it to erupt any second. Eventually Geralt’s breathing slowed, and the pressure in his loins subsided. “Are you alright?” she smirked.

“Yeah. Needed to catch my breath,” he muttered, lifting her up and rolling them over so that he was on top. Triss gasped in surprise, and didn’t resist when he spread her creamy thighs apart. Running a calloused finger along her slit, Geralt brought it away, dripping with her juices, and licked it; her tang danced on his sensitive tastebuds.

As Geralt lined himself up with her, he leant down and kissed her gently. Triss writhed underneath him and wrapped her hands around his butt, trying to pull hiim inside her, but he stayed as immovable as a rock. Slowly, deliberately, he teased around her entrance, driving her wild, until without warning he thrusted into her as hard as he could. She screamed in pain.

“Sorry,” he grunted.

“Some warning would have been nice,” Triss panted, water welling in the corners of her eyes. “You know most men aren’t as big as you – it’s painful, sometimes.”

“I know.”

Nodding, Triss slipped her hand down to her crotch and began rubbing her clit as Geralt gently slid in and out of her. Her moans increased in volume and pitch when he started fondling her breasts, kneading them like dough.

Gradually, Geralt increased the pace, and Triss began to twitch and shudder as the hand on her clit matched his thrusting, and she moaned loudly while her pussy spasmed around his cock. Geralt grunted as her orgasm triggered his own, and his cock started to pulse. Spurts of cum shot out of his head and coated the inside of her vagina, and as his cock began to soften he pulled out.

Sweating and flushed, Triss smiled weakly. “I’m going to miss you.”

“You too,” Geralt said, lying down next to her.

The sun beat down on Geralt’s bare back as he spun, sliced, and pirouetted in the Skellig breeze. His sword whistled through the air, appearing as a mere shimmer to any onlookers. Suddenly he heard the twang of a bowstring, and he whirled and held up his sword, and the arrow struck the flat of his blade.

“What the hell?” he said, looking straight at Theora, who was poised with a bow in her hands.

“Just testing,” she smirked, slinging the bow over her shoulder. “Good reflexes. Also, damn, look at those abs!”

Geralt grunted and pulled on a shirt; Theora pouted a little. “What do you want?” he asked.

“Apart from those abs on top of me every night?” she said playfully. “I was wondering if you wanted to partner up for a little while. I’m headed to Oxenfurt, there’s meant to be plenty of work in the area. Certainly enough for two witchers. You interested?”