Cumming to the Rescue

“Okay, I’m going to start with a normal massage, alright?” John asked. He tentatively placed his hands on Moira’s shoulders, over her pajamas. “I’m going to take it slow, but you can tell me to speed up or slow down more any time.”

“Okay,” Moira replied in a breathy whisper. John could feel her jerk slightly when his fingers made contact, but she didn’t pull away. It was likely her response to being touched intimately at all rather than actual repulsion. They were both seated on the ground, with Moira between John’s legs and resting her back against him. He hoped she couldn’t feel his heart threatening to pound its way right out of his chest. Getting this far was a miracle, actually following through was going to be something else entirely. What was he thinking? What were the odds someone as inexperienced as him could bring a girl to orgasm, let alone in such a way, let alone a girl whose preferences he knew absolutely nothing about? It was easy with Nazrinn, she took charge, and guided him whenever he wasn’t certain. Here, all John had was a pile of theoretical knowledge and an enthusiastic love for the female form. He was all but doomed to fail, and the sinking feeling in his gut knew that.

You know what? Fuck that. I got this

Shoving aside all of his doubts and anxieties, John firmed up his grasp and began to work his fingers into the muscles of Moira’s shoulders. If he didn’t know what he was doing, he’d just fake it until something worked. He was a man on a mission, and that mission was to make this uptight, overly prudish Paladin cum her worries away.

“Jesus Christ, Moira, your muscles are basically one giant knot!” John remarked as he tried to massage out all of her pent up tension. It took surprisingly more vigor at the start than he’d expected.

“My life isn’t as luxurious as you may think,” Moira said. “Nor does my current condition help. I- Oooh, right there.” Moira’s explanation was cut off by a sultry moan as John began to work closer to her neck. “More there, mnngh, please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” John replied with a sarcastic sense of duty. Still, he endeavored to focus on the spots that made Moira swoon, gradually loosening her up. “You should take better care of yourself.”

You’re one to talk.

Moira answered with a disagreeable grunt that swiftly transformed into a deep-bellied groan of relief. John spent a little extra time nursing her sorely overworked tendons with a small sense of smug satisfaction.

“I’m going to take your top off, alright?” he asked in a mellow, soothing voice. His hands paused at the collar of her shirt, waiting for Moira’s consent to continue. She didn’t give it, not at first. Her hands came together defensively over her sternum and he could feel her muscles begin to tighten up again in response. It was an unexpectedly meek reaction, but it only took another moment and a deep breath for her to relax again. John waited while her shoulders sank and she leaned forward to make it easier.

“Okay,” she said, and let her arms down. Her top all but fell of its own accord, all John had to do was pick it off her. In trying, Moira flinched forward and curled up once more, lightning fast. She shook her head and sighed again, then opened up again shakily, still shyly covering her breasts with her palms. Looking back to only barely meet John’s eyes, she offered an apologetic look. “I’d like to leave it like this,” she breathed out, “if I can.”

John left his hands back while Moira settled for the umpteenth time. With her top draped loosely over her forearms and nothing else, it hung loose enough that it was unlikely to get in the way. If anything, John would have expected Moira to be uncomfortable with being so awkwardly restrained, but, given her reactions so far, he realized that it served as a last-ditch barrier between them. Something of a security blanket to ease her nerves.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” John said, voice still soft. As much effort was going into remaining (or feigning) confident as was going into keeping Moira calm. Getting her to let go and relax was shaping up to be a Herculean task. For now, she relented once more and signalled for John to continue, despite a tiny flinch when John’s fingertips first met her skin.

“I’ve… never been good with being touched,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Oh? I hadn’t noticed.

“It’s okay,” John said, in opposition to his inner snarkiness. His hands were on Moira’s shoulders in earnest now, and they glided over her perfectly soft, smooth skin. Like her face, her shoulders were delicately sprinkled with freckles over a plain of rosy white. This was uncharted territory for him, and likely Moira as well, so he took it slow, starting with tracing his fingertips gently down her shoulders and back. He repeated the motion and Moira shivered with each pass, starting at her neck and running down to her core. Stepping it up a little, John angled his fingertips to let his nails delicately scrape her skin. This time, Moira let out a shuddering moan in time with a more violent shiver.

“You’re making it worse!” she whined. John could see her feet wiggle in front of her in frankly adorable frustration. He paused.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

“...N-no,” Moira answered, quiet as a mouse.

“It’s going to get worse before it gets better,” he said. That applied to the two of them, unknown to her. John had also grown achingly hard over the course of the last minute or so. His lizard brain desperately urged him to whip out his cock and insist Moira stroke it in exchange for his help. He knew that was an absolutely terrible idea, but that didn’t stop him from wanting it. Tempering his iron will, he continued. “Come closer.”

In that moment, John got an idea that could tip the scales in his favor. It was a risk, and he wasn’t sure what effect it might have, but anything that could help him was worth trying. All he needed was a little luck. John pulled out Black Claw and surreptitiously set it on the ground between him and Moira with the point facing her. She scooted backwards and the tip poked one cheek of her surprisingly plump butt.

Come on, Random Number God, don’t let me down….

0 damage, piercing
You have inflicted Libidinous

Yes!

“Ow!” Moira yelped and lifted herself up to see what she’d just sat on, simultaneously patting down her ass for signs of injury. John had already put Black Claw away, leaving nothing there. Happily for John, using her arms for lift meant that Moira had to stop covering her chest, and he got a peek at the puffy pink nipple of her right breast. “What was that?”

“What was what?” John played dumb. It helped that he had a nice sight to stare at to mask his questionable Poker face. He could actually watch her nipple stiffen. Realizing what John was staring at, Moira plopped back down with a huff, hurriedly covering her breasts again.

“Nevermind,” she grumbled. “Just a pebble. Sorry to ruin the, hm, mood.”

“It’ll come back,” John said. That he was confident of. He was pleased to find that Moira responded to his hands returning to her shoulders with a satisfied sigh rather than an alarmed flinch. “See? You’re doing great”

John resumed drifting his fingers over Moira’s flawless skin, following the nape of her neck down her collar. That elicited a shiver from her, so he reversed course to graze his nails back up to receive a similar response. Rather than return, however, John continued to lift his hands, tracing a line up her neck, along her jawline and up her temples. Having reached her hair, John let the rest of his fingers weave into her thick, red locks. Without all the extra weight, the volume of Moira’s hair gave it a very fluffy quality, easy to ruffle and sink into. He worked his fingers along her scalp, rubbing and scratching in miniscule bursts. Moira let out a subdued moan.

“That… feels good,” she cooed, but quickly tightened her tone before continuing, “but I don’t see how this is helping.”

Jon rolled his eyes. Getting through to Moira was starting to feel like a lost cause.

“Shhh,” he quietly hushed. “Stop thinking about things and just enjoy it. Let yourself relax a little for once in your life.” A moment passed before he thought to add, “You deserve it.”

That did the trick. John could feel the tension in Moira’s body melt away as she sunk into him. Leading a life of such strict order, it was no wonder she needed permission to relax - or so John assumed, at least. Regardless, he got the feeling that things were about to become much easier. He continued the scalp massage. By the time he reached the part in her hair, John could catch tiny mewls emanating from Moira that he suspected she had no intention of him hearing.

“Can you move your arms out of your lap?” John asked as he withdrew his hand’s from Moira’s head. She gave a quiet hum of affirmation and slowly lifted her arms over to the opposite sides of John’s legs. He could see the entirety of her body from his vantage, save for what hid below her so-called chastity belt. It didn’t look like much more than a pair of golden silk panties, but John could see that the way it shifted with her body was unnatural. It was as if it had been painted on and perfectly adhered to her form. He dismissed it quickly, however. He’d much rather spend his time admiring Moira’s deliciously milky thighs, complete with a gentle dusting of cinnamon freckles. John could feel himself grow harder at the realization that he would soon be able to touch those thighs.

His focus snapped back into place when Moira took the pause as an opportunity to shimmy herself into an even more comfortable position. Once more, John’s hands met her shoulders and began to play. He drifted down her collar again, touching only with his fingertips and never very far down. Instead, each hand broke to either side and played down her ribs, one by one. Moira squirmed a bit in response, so he continued to brush up and down, shifting forward and back on each stroke. His fingers deliberately never touched the sides of her breasts, but they did pass by tantalizingly close on several occasions. Moira’s squirms and whines were continuous, but they picked up in those moments as it seemed she was trying to get him to accidentally touch them. As much as he wanted to fill each hand with tit and squeeze, they were both going to have to wait, and so John took extra care to avoid the prize until then.

“M-maybe it’s working a little bit,” Moira admitted between sultry breaths. Her chest had started to heave slowly and release with unsteady exhalations. “But I need… more. You keep teasing me.”

“All in good time,” John said. “I was just getting there.”

As requested, John spread his fingers wide and lowered his palms to meet the smooth slopes of Moira’s skin and slid his hands closer together, over her stomach. Here, he added ‘Lady Abs’ to the list of things he didn’t know he was into. Moira wouldn’t be washing any clothes or grating any cheese with them, but her muscles were so well toned and defined that his fingers could ride the crests and dips of each one on their way to meet just below her belly button. Moira’s deep sigh let him know that things were still going well.

Daring to tease her more, John reached down and splayed his fingers out to brush against her pelvis before drawing his hands back up in a V-shaped path. What started as a moan from Moira quickly turned into a whine as he neglected her once again, but the gentle massage he was giving her torso seemed to drive away any further complaints. This continued for several more minutes, until Moira’s legs began to kick out in small spasms of pleasure, and her hands alternated clutching John’s pants. He lowered enough to finally massage the lowest of her pelvic muscles, leading to a series of kicks and a bout of hip wiggling, before sliding down to cup Mora’s mound with one palm. She gasped sharply enough to push John back a few inches and began to lock up.

“It’s okay,” John whispered, leaving his hand where it was, but with only featherlight pressure. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

It took her a moment, but eventually Moira slackened once more and looked up to offer John a meek nod. He nodded back, offered her a reassuring smile, and began to explore around Moira’s legs.

For as malleable as Moira’s chastity belt was, it reacted to John’s touch as if it were solid steel, but somehow he had expected that. Not to be deterred, he could still play along the edges, touching places he very much doubted anyone else had touched before. Moira was certainly acting like it at the very least, bucking and groaning with a mixture of pleasure and frustration. Her skin here was as soft and smooth as ever, and a tight grasp revealed that her muscular thighs bore enough of a layer of fat to make them perfect for squeezing and being squeezed between. Moira’s grip on his pants tightened with that test squeeze, so John happily obliged her by sinking his hands into luxurious leg meat. Moira threw her head back against his chest and kicked repeatedly while letting out a nearly bestial groan. John let one hand slip away while the other continued roughly massaging her thighs.

“M-more!” she gasped between whines. John leaned in close enough for her to feel the breath pass from his lips to her ears.

“As you wish,” he whispered, and took firm hold of her left breast with his free hand. Moira thrust herself against him and practically screamed in ecstasy. John was in his own bliss, meanwhile, gleefully feeling up the girl who held peerless station over him in so many ways. Here was Moira Brighton, imperious Paladin, unabashedly falling apart in his hands.

She began to swap between locking up and relaxing entirely at regular intervals as John gently kneaded her breast. Soft, pliant flesh molded around his fingers. It fit so nicely in his hands, easily manipulated by his long fingers. He could feel her nipple poking into his palm and softly glided over it in a circular motion, driving Moira to loudly whine with what could easily be misread as distress. At another time, John would love to explore more, but Moira seemed to be done with exploring. Without warning, she snatched the wrist of his lower hand painfully hard and brought it up to meet her other, neglected breast with a loud SMACK and some rather pleasant jiggling.

“Alright, Princess,” John cooed once more. “I’ll stop holding back.”

With both in hand, John brought his thumb and forefingers together over either teat and gently rolled them back and forth. By how violently she reacted, he’d have thought he was playing with her clit. Moira shook and kicked with intense passion while forcing out deep, guttural moans. John nearly added his own shout to the mix when one of her hands shot up to blindly paw at the side of his face.

“Keep going!” she screamed. “Harder!”

John complied, with a twist. He remembered how good he’d felt when he’d first used his Biomancy, nearly creaming himself in the process. He decided that Moira deserved to be in on the fun, so while his fingers clamped down on her areola, he cast Alter Body, temporary, on her breasts. A lot of things happened at once. First by a nominal margin, he could actually feel her tits plump up in his hands, which aroused him so much that he may well have cast it again, had Moira not gone so rigid that she drove them both powerfully enough against the tent’s canvas wall that it nearly tipped over. Her abrupt shove was accompanied by a wild moan of pleasure and the hand on John’s head clutching his scalp. The **** and height disparity dragged him down to be face to face with Moira, now struggling to bend her neck up enough to meet his gaze.

Her eyes had become mesmerizing pits of seemingly endless need. Her whole face glistened with sweat and had flushed a deep pink, but nowhere more so than her parted lips, red and ripe and begging to be kissed with each heaving breath. John let himself be pulled closer. Inches away, the lids of Moira’s eyes grew heavy, and her grasp weak. He would have to reach the rest of the way himself.

Or he could sink his palms into her breasts and thoroughly mash them against her chest, causing Moira to wince with the sudden influx of pleasure and turn away to dig the back of her skull against his chest. John had made a promise and he intended to keep it, no matter how much his hormones, primal brain, or even the Goddess wanted him to break it.

Broken out of the moment, John refocused his efforts on squeezing an orgasm out of Moira’s tits. He played with, massaged, jiggled, tugged, and kneaded in every way he could think of, save one. Moira was crumbling to pieces more and more by the minute, incessantly grinding her bottom against John’s crotch. He’d at some point begun reciprocating without realizing, but Moira did nothin to stop him. Instead, she lifted both arms above her head, wrapping them around John’s neck as an added measure to keep him close. The entirety of her body was covered by a thin sheen of sweat.

“John,” she pleaded, gasping for breath, “I think I, I-”

John chose that moment to finish her off, interrupting by finally pinching her nipples and tweaking, hard. Her sharp intake of breath led to a silent scream. Everything in her body was pulled too tight for her to even make noise. All Moira could do was claw at John’s neck and go stock straight until the pressure released. And it did, all at once. The held back scream of orgasm burst out as a roaring groan of absolute relief, loud enough to alert anyone within a mile radius of their presence. It shuddered to a halt with the rest of her body as she collapsed into John’s lap, slowly melting against him. Her arms fell bonelessly to her sides and they waited for her breathing to return to normal. A series of quivering aftershocks reset the process each time they ran through her.

“Lady’s grace, that was…” Moira panted out, not quite able to finish her sentence.

“Feel better?” John asked. His fingers were tracing lazy spirals across her stomach, not quite prepared to stop playing with the lovely body laid out before him. Spurred on by the pride of success, he wanted to push the envelope a bit. If this would be his only chance to have Moira like this, he’d be an idiot for not making sure it was a night neither of them would ever forget.

“Y-yes, I…” she began, leaving another sentence incomplete. This time, it was a shiver drawn out by John’s teasing fingers that interrupted her. “What are you doing? I already… c-came.”

“Well,” John said, sounding positively mischievous, “did you know that it’s often easier for a girl to climax a second time than the first?” He began to play over a wider area, deliberately letting his knuckles brush against the bottom curve of Moira’s breasts. He was encouraged by the fact that her nipples were quickly stiffening once more.

“I’ve… heard as much, yes,” Moira whimpered. Her voice was weak, she was fidgeting with her feet, and she began to chew her lower lip. From the way her torso kept tightening up, John knew that she was holding back at least a few moans.

“I was thinking that you deserve more than one,” John said, delicately cupping each beautifully supple breast. Moira wasn’t the only one holding back, John was struggling to maintain his composure and come off as both competent and confident. If she knew how much war his sensibilities were waging with each other and how much adrenaline was pumping through his veins, she’d never believe him. “I know I come off like I think you’re spoiled, but I never realized how much you have to deal with all the time. On top of it all, you’ve been protecting me for these last few days. If this is the only way I can help, I want to do it right, but it’s up to you. If you want to stop, I’ll stop.”

Moira squirmed in silence for a few moments, slowly rubbing her thighs together.

“I…” she bit her lip again, “I don’t want to make you do more than you need to. You’ve already- hmmmm~” A songlike moan whispered out of Moira when John hands twitched just enough to give her breasts the gentlest of squeezes. Even John wasn’t sure if he meant to do that or if it was convenient timing. “You’ve already done more than I ever would have expected.”

“How about this, then?” John doubled down and splayed out his hands to press down firmly on her chest. Moira let out a shuddering groan while John marveled at the sight of the swells of excess tit peeking out from the gaps between his fingers. For good measure, he gave one solid squeeze before letting up the pressure. “Now what do you think?”

“Okay, fine!” Moira’s answer came immediately, along with her hands grasping John’s to **** him to continue squeezing. “Do it! Please, make me cum again! My tits have never felt like this before and I still need to cum so bad! I want it! I admit it, I want it! I want you to keep touching me! Play with them, knead them, pinch them, do whatever it is you do to me that feels so good!”

Dumbfounded by Moira’s sudden onslaught of lust-filled honesty as he was, John still managed to bend down and calmly whisper.

“As you wish.”

The groan that followed John’s accompanying squeeze was so intense that he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d climaxed on the spot. Moira’s spine arched as she thrust her pelvis into the air and once again shoved John backwards. She came down too quickly for it to have been a real orgasm, but her expression suggested it was nearly as good. There were hints of a smile on her face, fleeting between the moans and groans of endured pleasure. John’s dick, still safely tucked away, let out a spurt of precum to soak into his boxers. From the feeling of it, it had not been the first.

“More!” Moira pleaded, shaking John out of his distraction. He delivered on her request with renewed vigor.

John practically worshipped Moira’s tits with his hands, rubbing and massaging every last inch of them. Unlike before, John freely teased her nipples this time. Pinching them firmly, but not too hard, and then rolling them between his fingers always drew a visceral, writhing reaction from Moira. It quickly became one of his favorite ways to play with her.

“I’m cumming!” Moira squeaked out. Every word that followed came faster than the last, at a higher and higher pitch until they became unintelligible squeals. “I’m cumming! I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cummingI’mcummingI’mcummingcummingcum-” Moira’s hands flew up to cover her face, as if trying to hide.

John pulled her in as close as he could before she peaked and vigorously smashed her breasts together. Trapped by his embrace, Moira thrashed in seemingly agonizing ecstasy.

Swimming through excitement and an unfamiliar sense of masculine accomplishment, John was experiencing his own sort of euphoria. His thoughts were consumed by two things. The first was making Moira feel good, and the second was an electrifying pride for having brought such powerful orgasms out of her… but he knew he could do more. Even though Moira was just barely cresting the zenith of her climax, John clenched his hands around her tits and cast Alter Body once more. The idea of using the temporary version did not even cross his mind. Feeling her already delicious tits swelling between his fingers nearly drove him to climax.

Moira, on the other hand, screamed bloody ****, bucking wildly in John’s arms. One hand shot to her groin to rub furiously but futilely at her shielded pussy while the other clawed at her own face. Her eyes were wide open, but there was no sign of thought behind them. John loosened his grip and decided that maybe it was time to let her come down. Maybe, he thought as he continued to gently tease her through aftershock after aftershock. It seemed like any stimulus at all, anywhere on her body, would send her into convulsions of echoed bliss. He wasn’t sure how long that went on, because it was only when she desperately clutched his wrist that John could bring himself to stop. He never knew that pleasing a woman could feel so empowering.

Moira tried to speak about a minute later, but she was still overwhelmed by afterglow and utterly flustered that she failed to compose herself. John gently shushed her instead, and slowly let her sink out of his embrace, so that she could lay down with only her head in his lap. He passed the time by quietly brushing the sweat-caked hair out of Moira’s face and desperately trying to ignore how horny he was. The irony was not lost on him.

“That was unbelievable,” Moira said, after a few minutes. “I never… that is, I… without even…” still floundering for how to properly express herself, Moira sighed and shut her eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” John said, grinning. “If it makes things any less shocking, I didn’t really know I had that in me either.”

“Hmm,” Moira hummed pleasantly. “I think I’ve come to a conclusion on what you are.”

“What’s that?” he asked, genuinely intrigued.

“You are a cad, John Newman,” Moira said, eyes still closed. Despite her harsh judgement, she wore a serene smile.

“Guilty,” John laughed. Things felt peaceful, at least for the moment. It was nice, until he finally realized how much his pent up balls had started to ache. “You okay if I leave for a sec?”

“Why for?” Moira opened her eyes to look up at John.

“I gotta go… take care of something,” he said. Picking up on John’s gaze, Moira turned slightly to eye the still throbbing erection right next to her head.

“Oh,” she whispered. From his vantage point, John could clearly see Moira’s eyes dilate and her lips part. For a moment, it seemed like she was lost in some kind of trance, until she swallowed and added, “Yes, of course.”

Moira sat up to let John free and he shuffled out of the tent to bring their evening to a pleasant but unceremonious end.

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<Skill Level Up!>
Masturbation Lv. 21
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